Is philanthropy on the ropes? Gen Z’s fundraising habits make our columnist suspect as much.
by Amy Silverman | illustration by Ted Jouflas
As a kid growing up in Phoenix in the early ’80s, I had a pile of reading material on rotation.
This included but was not limited to A Guide to Minerals, Gems, and Rocks, the Guinness Book of World Records and Harriet the Spy. Also: a short story collection by Erskine Caldwell, The Joy of Cooking, anything by Paul Zindel and pretty much any young adult novel where the main character tries LSD and sees spiders.
Also, the society pages.
I was obsessed. I would pore over the photos of galas, balls and other fancy events, looking for familiar names (Phoenix was a speck of a town then, when it came to such things, and everyone knew everyone) and admiring the ladies’ hair, makeup, dresses and husbands.
It’s a subculture that continues to fascinate me. I never wanted to be part of it, but for some unknown reason that might be related to TV shows like Dynasty and Dallas, I wanted to know all about it.
Trends – a local newspaper created in 1982 by the late Danny Medina – was happy to oblige.
It was an embarrassingly long time before I realized that these people I loved to observe weren’t getting dressed up just for fun. They were paying hundreds or even thousands of dollars to support the local symphony and ballet or efforts to cure cancer and research kidney disease.
Then I was confused. If the real idea was to support a good cause, why spend so much money to rent a ballroom, to hire a band, a caterer, even a calligrapher to address invitations? That didn’t include all the money spent on those ballgowns and tuxedoes. Or the beauty parlor.
Didn’t it make more fiscal sense to simply ask these folks to write big checks? Then their Saturday nights would be free for a movie and Chinese food, and no one would have to wear high heels.
But to be fair, not everyone’s idea of a good time is a Saturday night in Birkenstocks. And these events were raising piles of cash, even after the bartenders were paid.
I haven’t really thought much about any of this for a long time. I can’t recall the last time I looked at the society pages. But I’ve been hearing for a while that the funding cuts by the current Trump Administration have resulted in foundations, nonprofits and individuals being asked to step up and fill in the gaps. That made me wonder about the state of philanthropy in Phoenix, particularly the way it’s changing as younger generations step up – or don’t.
For years I’ve been watching two longstanding local nonprofits in town struggle to find board members under 75 years old. If something doesn’t change soon, I bet both will be in danger of folding. Other boards, too.
That’s just a hunch. So I called an expert, Richard Tollefson. He’s the founder and president of The Phoenix Philanthropy Group, a consulting firm that lists dozens of nonprofits and foundations as clients, many in Arizona.
“I would say what’s going on in Phoenix is, in general, reflective of what’s going on around the country,” Tollefson says. “You know, philanthropy is consistently up. Philanthropy during the ups and downs of the economy has been amazingly resilient. We did see a slight downtick in 2022, which was after a huge uptick in support of COVID-related issues in 2021. But philanthropy overall has continued to grow and, you know, all indications are that it will.”
But not quite enough to fill the void left by the second Trump Administration, Tollefson says. Not only has there been an overall decline in government funding, there are some groups now left out entirely (or close). He reminded me of the DEI edict that came down in spring 2025.
“You couldn’t talk about LGBT. You couldn’t talk about social justice. You couldn’t even use the word woman,” Tollefson says.
For the most part, he adds, his clients did not bend. But one did remove the words “Hispanic” and “diversity” from its name.
Philanthropy in Phoenix is still strong, Tollefson says, but he pointed out that most giving comes from individuals – and that could soon present significant challenges as the income gap grows and the number of donors declines.
He also spoke about trends in giving among younger donors.
“They may be giving to charities and nonprofit organizations or their alma maters. But they’re also doing a lot more GoFundMe. They are funding a lot more in terms of direct interaction.”
Tollefson continues. “They may want to buy a Subaru because they know about Subaru’s tradition of giving back… Subaru gives to the environment, [it gives] to animals. If I buy a Subaru, you know, I’m helping those causes too.”
The old-school art of fundraising will never go away completely, he says, but there’s definitely a shift: “It’s not all about the big galas anymore.”
So maybe I was onto something.
I reached out to a good friend who works for a large nonprofit here. Like me, she grew up in the Valley. She agrees with Tollefson. (She didn’t want her name used. This is high stakes stuff.)
“The gala used to be the social calendar,” my friend says. “In the Heart Ball era, the event was how people spent their whole season – shopping for dresses together, fashion shows, getting ready at the resort, the society columns the next week.”
Several people I spoke with said the same, and more than one mentioned one-n-ten, a nonprofit that supports LGBTQ youth. One-n-ten’s events are super successful – likely due to a lower ticket price, brunch instead of dinner and a casual dress code.
That might be an outlier, my friend says. And it’s not just about money. One impact of the philanthropy shift is the loss of community. My friend is worried.
“What I find most interesting is the connection piece. A lot of young professionals that I talk with don’t have an easy way to build a circle outside of work and their school friends,” she says.
That made me think of the University Club in Phoenix, which is now gone – reportedly because of a big decline in membership.
Then I spoke with a man who insists the old ways aren’t going anywhere. He should know. The social scene is his livelihood. Bill Dougherty has owned Trends – that paper I used to obsess over – since founder Danny Medina passed away many years ago.
“We will always have society in Phoenix,” Dougherty says. “We will always have heart balls as long as we have an American Heart Association.”
In fact, the next Phoenix Heart Ball will be held November 21 at The Phoenician. The cheapest ticket is $1,500 for one person. For $100,000, a couple gets premium seating, a VIP reception, recognition from the podium and a free hotel room for the night, among other things. According to the Ball’s website, several categories were sold out by mid-October.
The “medical balls” will be fine, Dougherty says, insisting they will always be black-tie events. “I worry about the arts. That’s really my concern,” he admits.
The museums will be okay, he says, but Dougherty recalls that there were once big balls for the symphony and ballet. No more.
So maybe there really is a crack in the coffers – or future coffers, anyway. I don’t want that, of course. I want philanthropy to flourish, even as it evolves. I’m concerned. In my research for this column, I found a story online reporting that charitable giving among Gen Z is higher than any other generation because of donations to GoFundMe.
That seemed like an awful lot of support to offer friends who can’t pay their medical bills. I looked again and realized this wasn’t a story. It was an ad. Sponsored by GoFundMe.
I think I need to put Trends back in my reading rotation. It might make me feel better. For a while, at least.
Amy Silverman
Born and raised in Phoenix, Amy Silverman is a multiple winner of the Virg Hill Arizona Journalist of the Year award. She also penned the memoir My Heart Can’t Even Believe It.
