A collage of a Black man walking a tightrope held up between two stacks of coins.
Photo by Yonas Bekele and Pablo Merchán Montes on Unsplash

Many funders are rightly concerned about the state of our democracy. That concern has become more urgent in the lead-up to the midterm elections—as it does every two years, right on schedule. It’s true that multiple indices show our democracy is in free fall. But our “democracy” has always been a myth to far too many US residents. For the communities that have been consistently excluded from democracy’s security and prosperity, the idea of protecting it is abstract, at best.

Private philanthropy has the power and potential to help upend this reality and finally deliver on democratic promises for everyone by looking at where capital-market solutions or government interventions have failed to intervene. To realize a democracy in more than name will require consistently driving investments to the locus of change: communities that reflect the diversity of society.

Not that long ago, philanthropy was on the right path to creating the conditions for a more inclusive—and therefore more effective—democracy. In the years after the racial reckoning in 2020, investment poured into communities of color that have been historically dispossessed. The emphasis on funding for community ownership and empowerment was rightly seen as both a means of addressing structural racism and one of the most powerful antidotes for a decrease in civic participation that erodes our democracy.

To realize a democracy in more than name will require consistently driving investments to the locus of change: communities that reflect the diversity of society.

But new research confirms what many of us have seen firsthand: The post-2020 funding push for Black-led nonprofits and community groups has been abandoned. As the CEO of a nonprofit corporation, the Center for Cultural Innovation (CCI), which supports cultural transformation through community investment, I’ve had a front-row seat to this regression.

Many funders have shifted away from community-fueled solutions back to run-of-the-mill pro-democracy efforts. The reasons I’ve heard vary from too many demands on funding, to the urgency of the next “most important election of our lifetime.” Often, funders are assuming a false binary: that they can either support efforts to strengthen democracy or focus on communities. Of course, democratic backsliding must be stopped, but an essential part of that work—rather than a deviation from it—is building the foundations for a true pluralistic democracy. Such a system has yet to be realized and should always be our north star, no matter the election cycle.

Healing cannot happen on the schedule of 2-year election cycles.

Repairing Democracy’s Broken Contract by Empowering Communities

A thriving democracy requires not just a transaction of votes in exchange for power. It implies a broader contract between the governed and the governing, between individuals and communities. For many communities, especially racialized communities, that contract has long been broken.

As a result of this broken promise for an already marginalized part of society, it makes sense that over the past two decades the turnout gap between White voters and Black voters has grown. It’s a gap that can’t be fully accounted for by the Supreme Court’s gutting of the Voting Rights Act. Rather, low civic engagement understandably stems from a failure to connect democracy to real results for people.

When attention is paid to communities only during election cycles, while in between those cycles they see no changes to their daily lives, voting becomes disconnected from outcomes. No wonder, then, that it stops being a priority. Healing cannot happen on the schedule of two-year election cycles. Sporadic investment erodes trust, creating an environment in which the fate of a community can seem tied to the whims of an indifferent funder class. By showing up and providing consistent, deep investment, funders can support the kind of bedrock for democratic life we need right now. They can actually advance the vision of democracy that is sustained beyond election cycles.

Authoritarian and plutocratic forces don’t empower their communities. One of the key reasons why hard-fought progressive gains are being lost is because people have been so effectively isolated, divided, and disempowered. Investing in communities to be stronger on their own terms is a powerful lever for pro-democracy efforts because it helps to counteract that alienation. People gain and exercise their power when community belonging is on a scale that they can see and feel.

By prioritizing collective empowerment, we can counter the isolation and shape a better future, manifested in the strength of diverse and inclusive communities—from Indigenous people to all the various people who were brought or who migrated to this country. That can be accomplished in many ways, including investing in cultural spaces where people recognize their sense of belonging as well as supporting local residents in making the budgeting and land-use decisions that shape their daily lives. Imagine if data centers were located on land that local residents collectively govern so they could negotiate better terms and hold technology companies accountable, or if the contracts to build affordable housing were awarded by the people who’ll be living in it.

People gain and exercise their power when community belonging is on a scale that they can see and feel.

The Best Ways to Use Your Dollars for Democracy

The good news is that some funders are starting to see the value of taking a long view and building community-level investment. To expand this progress and achieve bigger, enduring change, here are some good places to start:

  1. Ask—and then listen to—community leaders.

It’s time to directly ask communities what it will take for them to thrive, with people participating electorally, civically, and societally. The answers will be different from community to community, and they’ll be more accurate if they come from community representatives and leaders. Often, these individuals are connected to institutions outside of traditional philanthropic pipelines, like local mutual aid networks or cultural land trusts. These leaders know their neighbors better than any grants specialist, and they are the ones held to account by their communities. Collecting community input on their needs is its own form of democracy, and helps to strengthen the principles of self-determination, representation, and civic engagement that democracy relies on.

  1. Go beyond nonprofits.

It’s a tough pill to swallow, but 501(c)(3) nonprofit organizations are not synonymous with their communities. They do excellent work, but they are often there to serve, not represent or be a voice for communities. And, as mentioned above, they can be prone to shifts in strategy that ultimately stymie impact and change. Alternative organizations and efforts—such as real estate collectives, mutual aid organizers, participatory budgeting processes, and other leaders and groups embedded in and accountable to communities—are essential to an inclusive pro-democracy strategy.

  1. Fund without restriction.

There has been an encouraging uptick in unrestricted giving, but much more is needed. Guardrails for how funding can be applied tell communities they aren’t trusted to use their best judgment. Project-restricted, time-limited funding can leave recipients more gutted in the long term as their resources and attention serve funders’ priorities more than their own. Conversely, providing unrestricted support is an inherently trustful and practical act. For democracy to thrive, communities need to have opportunities for practicing self-governance.

Moreover, research shows that unrestricted giving is effective and accelerates impact. Communities will spend funds where they’re needed, whether that’s after-school programs, food banks, or even voter education groups. They are familiar with what they need most, regardless of foundations’ program silos.

Amid a crucial midterm year, where do we go from here?

We should, of course, focus on the midterms and on 2028. But without acknowledging how our democracy has failed to deliver for a lot of people, it will face the same existential threat every two years. We must develop a long-term and proactive approach that invests in the communities that have been neglected, in ways that leave them self-determining. This means realizing that democracy is synonymous with thriving and diverse communities. Every two years, we ask ourselves: Where do we go from here? How do we protect and strengthen our democracy in these critical times? The answer is deceptively simple: by working towards a vision of democracy that is real for everyone.