Fields of View
I couldn't see well. Last week, I drove a new Toyota Prius while in Seattle. While sporty, aerodynamic and efficient, its windshields lacked a broad field of view. Consulting often puts me in a peculiar position between foundations and their grantees. On a regular basis, I toggle from trying to understand the needs of one side or the other. The biggest misperception is that they understand one another. Philanthropies readily assume nonprofits have the time, perspective, and privilege of knowing what they need and what to do. Because they review lots of proposals and usually have the time and charge to deeply understand an issue, foundations tend to possess a broader range of vision than their applicants, but then tend to hold this knowledge in check. "We don't do the work," a foundation contact somewhat proudly recently exclaimed, as if claiming an admirable, hands-off position. News flash: out of no fault of their own, those closest to a challenge may not possess the requisite knowledge and experience to address it. If my rental Prius broke down, I would be clueless to do more than describe what happened to a mechanic. When attempting to shift systems, breadth of perspective is everything. My many social impact friends are smart, engaged, and often so deeply entrenched in what they're doing they can't assess the broader landscape. Meanwhile, my colleagues in the funding community are conscientious professionals that tend to dismiss the broad view that is often inherent with their position out of a justifiable but still handicapping fear of influencing progress, and thus assuming some responsibility for its success or failure. Despite its technological interventions, I never felt completely safe driving the Prius last week because I couldn't see as much as I felt I needed to.
