Philanthropy in Asia has often been dominated by an expectation that successful individuals should give quietly without receiving recognition in return, explains Dien Yuen, managing director at Kordant Philanthropy Advisors, a research and advisory firm based in California which works with Asian philanthropists. Giving in Asia is underpinned by Confucian beliefs, and this explains some of the reticence around wealthy families’ philanthropic work. “Part of the Confucian belief is that you give and you don’t expect a return,” says Mr Yuen, “So you’re supposed to give freely and you should not expect a big thank-you from the community or have your name attached to a building.”
But legacy remains very much on the mind of Asian philanthropists, and they tend to see it largely through the lens of family. Family foundations are not only an effective vehicle for keeping family members together but also for transferring ideals from one generation to the next. “I think that they want to see their kids espouse the same types of values that they themselves live by,” says Edward Cunningham, director of the Ash Centre’s China Programmes at Harvard Kennedy School of Government.
Professor Cunningham’s research on China’s top philanthropists reveals that we are in—or, depending on the economy’s trajectory, just emerging from—China’s gilded age. “There’s a major passing of the torch from a generation who underwent a significant amount of political and social dislocation through the Cultural Revolution,” he says. “There is a deeper challenge and a deeper attempt to try to transfer those values from one generation to the next. Philanthropy is just one tool in the toolbox to do that.”
This leaves philanthropists as guardians of the family name—in turn another motivation for philanthropy to take place silently. Wealthy donors hesitate to attach their name to a cause because of concerns about political sensitivities, or the risk of failure, which could bring shame on the family. The absence of a strong legal framework for non-profits leaves the family name further exposed.
The concept of family—the idea that individuals have a responsibility to take care of their elders, their families and their community— is also intricately linked to the type of giving they engage in. “That could be immediate family, but in Asia the family extension is huge,” says Mr Yuen. “It could almost be the whole village that you have to be responsible for.” As a result, Chinese philanthropists prefer local philanthropy, close to areas where they grew up for example, and typically focus on a single cause. Professor Cunningham’s research reveals that about 75% support a single cause and 20% up to two causes, with the rest supporting multiple causes.
But as the region’s economies have developed, a new generation of philanthropists has emerged. Jack Ma, whose fortune comes from IT, gives to education, the environment, social welfare and disaster relief; He Xiangjian, who made his money in manufacturing, donates to social welfare causes; and Wang Jianlin, whose wealth comes from real estate, funds education, social welfare and disaster relief.[1] Figures such as these are changing the face of Asian philanthropy, creating new modes of giving that diverge from older practices and are changing the way legacy is perceived and kept alive.
James Chen, co-chair of the Chen Yet-Sen Family Foundation, a Hong Kong-based charity that supports innovations in education with an emphasis on childhood literacy and library development, wants to maintain but also develop the principles that his father, Robert Yet-Sen Chen, had espoused. “For him, as with most of his peers, it was very much about giving back to his home town,” Mr Chen says. “While we’ve taken on some of his values, to be effective we can’t be tied down to the particular geography of our ancestral home town. We need to find government officials who are enlightened and willing to try the type of solutions we think are effective for early childhood literacy and school libraries.”
As a result of decisions such as those taken by Mr Chen, the focus of Asian philanthropy is moving beyond local to international beneficiaries. These shifts can cause tensions as influence transfers from one generation to the next. Mr Yuen explains: “A majority of the time I would say that the children defer to their parents because the parents still control the wealth at this point.” Professor Cunningham describes the delicate balance that is required: even if their interests differ or conflict, older generations must yield ownership to the young to encourage them to get involved in philanthropy at a relatively early stage.
For Mr Chen, the legacy he wishes to leave is one with a broad footprint. On a personal level, he hopes to show his children that with wealth comes responsibility, and an obligation to give back. “In our family we do live it, my wife and I,” he says. “We’re not just paying lip service to ideas, but the kids see that we actually practice what we preach.” He has aspirations for projects such as Clearly, a programme that brings innovators and eye experts together to give people in the developing world access to glasses, which he hopes will spur a wider conversation about new ways to use technology to assist people around the world with poor vision.
Mr Chen also thinks Asian philanthropists who have kept quiet about their endeavours should speak up. “We know some families, particularly in Hong Kong and Taiwan, who have done some great work but they never talk about it,” he says. “I understand and respect that value, but by keeping it private you’re not maximising the impact of the family’s philanthropy efforts.” A new Asian philanthropy may therefore involve a break from tradition as, proponents argue, the merits of amplifying and replicating successful philanthropic programmes far outweigh the risks to the family name.
This article, written by Frieda Klotz, is part of a content programme sponsored by BNP Paribas:
http://sustainablegiving.economist.com/silent-legacy-asias-philanthropists/
