The trouble with charitable billionaires
The long read: More and more wealthy CEOs are pledging to give away parts of their fortunes often to help fix problems their companies caused. Some call this philanthrocapitalism, but is it just corporate hypocrisy?
In February 2017, Facebooks founder and CEO Mark Zuckerberg was in the headlines for his charitable activities. The Chan Zuckerberg Initiative, founded by the tech billionaire and his wife, Priscilla Chan, handed out over $3m in grants to aid the housing crisis in the Silicon Valley area. David Plouffe, the Initiatives president of policy and advocacy, stated that the grants were intended to support those working to help families in immediate crisis while supporting research into new ideas to find a long-term solution a two-step strategy that will guide much of our policy and advocacy work moving forward.
This is but one small part of Zuckerbergs charity empire. The Initiative has committed billions of dollars to philanthropic projects designed to address social problems, with a special focus on solutions driven by science, medical research and education. This all took off in December 2015, when Zuckerberg and Chan wrote and published a letter to their new baby Max. The letter made a commitment that over the course of their lives they would donate 99% of their shares in Facebook (at the time valued at $45bn) to the mission of advancing human potential and promoting equality.
The housing intervention is of course much closer to home, dealing with issues literally at the door of Facebooks Menlo Park head office. This is an area where median house prices almost doubled to around $2m in the five years between 2012 and 2017.
More generally, San Francisco is a city with massive income inequality, and the reputation of having the most expensive housing in the US. Chan Zuckerbergs intervention was clearly designed to offset social and economic problems caused by rents and house prices having skyrocketed to such a level that even tech workers on six-figure salaries find it hard to get by. For those on more modest incomes, supporting themselves, let alone a family, is nigh-on impossible.
Ironically, the boom in the tech industry in this region a boom Facebook has been at the forefront of has been a major contributor to the crisis. As Peter Cohen from the Council of Community Housing Organizations explained it: When youre dealing with this total concentration of wealth and this absurd slosh of real-estate money, youre not dealing with housing thats serving a growing population. Youre dealing with housing as a real-estate commodity for speculation.
Zuckerbergs apparent generosity, it would seem, is a small contribution to a large problem that was created by the success of the industry he is involved in. In one sense, the housing grants (equivalent to the price of just one-and-a-half average Menlo Park homes) are trying to put a sticking plaster on a problem that Facebook and other Bay Area corporations aided and abetted. It would appear that Zuckerberg was redirecting a fraction of the spoils of neoliberal tech capitalism, in the name of generosity, to try to address the problems of wealth inequality created by a social and economic system that allowed those spoils to accrue in the first place.
It is easy to think of Zuckerberg as some kind of CEO hero a once regular kid whose genius made him one of the richest men in the world, and who decided to use that wealth for the benefit of others. The image he projects is of altruism untainted by self-interest. A quick scratch of the surface reveals that the structure of Zuckerbergs charity enterprise is informed by much more than good-hearted altruism. Even while many have applauded Zuckerberg for his generosity, the nature of this apparent charity was openly questioned from the outset.
The wording of Zuckerbergs 2015 letter could easily have been interpreted as meaning that he was intending to donate $45bn to charity. As investigative reporter Jesse Eisinger reported at the time, the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative through which this giving was to be funnelled is not a not-for-profit charitable foundation, but a limited liability company. This legal status has significant practical implications, especially when it comes to tax. As a company, the Initiative can do much more than charitable activity: its legal status gives it rights to invest in other companies, and to make political donations. Effectively the company does not restrict Zuckerbergs decision-making as to what he wants to do with his money; he is very much the boss. Moreover, as Eisinger described it, Zuckerbergs bold move yielded a huge return on investment in terms of public relations for Facebook, even though it appeared that he simply moved money from one pocket to the other while being likely never to pay any taxes on it.
The creation of the Chan Zuckerberg Initiative decidedly not a charity organisation means that Zuckerberg can control the companys investments as he sees fit, while accruing significant commercial, tax and political benefits. All of this is not to say that Zuckerbergs motives do not include some expression of his own generosity or some genuine desire for humanitys wellbeing and equality.
What it does suggest, however, is that when it comes to giving, the CEO approach is one in which there is no apparent incompatibility between being generous, seeking to retain control over what is given, and the expectation of reaping benefits in return. This reformulation of generosity in which it is no longer considered incompatible with control and self-interest is a hallmark of the CEO society: a society where the values associated with corporate leadership are applied to all dimensions of human endeavour.
Mark Zuckerberg was by no means the first contemporary CEO to promise and initiate large-scale donations of wealth to self-nominated good causes. In the CEO society it is positively a badge of honour for the worlds most wealthy businesspeople to create vehicles to give away their wealth. This has been institutionalised in what is known as The Giving Pledge, a philanthropy campaign initiated by Warren Buffett and Bill Gates in 2010. The campaign targets billionaires around the world, encouraging them to give away the majority of their wealth. There is nothing in the pledge that specifies what exactly the donations will be used for, or even whether they are to be made now or willed after death; it is just a general commitment to using private wealth for ostensibly public good. It is not legally binding either, but a moral commitment.
There is a long list of people and families who have made the pledge. Mark Zuckerberg and Priscilla Chan are there, and so are some 174 others, including household names such as Richard and Joan Branson, Michael Bloomberg, Barron Hilton and David Rockefeller. It would seem that many of the worlds richest people simply want to give their money away to good causes. This all amounts to what human geographers Iain Hay and Samantha Muller sceptically refer to as a golden age of philanthropy, in which, since the late 1990s, bequests to charity from the super-rich have escalated to the hundreds of billions of dollars. These new philanthropists bring to charity an entrepreneurial disposition, Hay and Muller wrote in a 2014 paper, yet one that they suggest has been diverting attention and resources away from the failings of contemporary manifestations of capitalism, and may also be serving as a substitute for public spending withdrawn by the state.