America’s nonprofits run on generosity. Right now, the outlook is grim

This past summer, I had the opportunity to speak at the annual fundraising event of the B.R. Ryall YMCA in Glen Ellyn, Illinois. Growing up, it was the one place, besides my home, where I felt I belonged. The after-school programs, summer camps and leadership clubs of that institution formed me.
As I listened to the various people who volunteer at the Y — people who run committees or coach the swim team or help organize the basketball program — I realized something: this institution runs on generosity.
In fact, all of America’s 1.7 million nonprofits run on generosity. People give their time, talent and treasure in order to tutor children, feed the hungry, clean up the environment, coach youth sports and advance the arts. If you’ve been to college, visited an art museum or learned to swim at a YMCA, your life has likely been touched by a nonprofit.
This is part of a long-running tradition in American life. In the early 19th century, French writer Alexis de Tocqueville, during a tour of the United States, noticed that our country was different than the nations of Europe. Where in nations like England and France, the government or an aristocrat would organize an initiative to address a social problem, in America, de Tocqueville observed, ordinary people came together to build an association. In fact, Tocqueville said “the art of association” was the “mother science” of America.
I hate to say this, but that tradition is in jeopardy.
I’ve spent the past three years serving on something called the Generosity Commission, and we’ve just released a report.
Many of the findings are bleak. Among them:
— The percentage of U.S. households that made a charitable donation fell from 65% in 2008 to 49% in 2018.
— The percentage of Americans who volunteered their time fell from 30% in 2019 to 23% in 2021.
These are not just dry statistics. They represent real people — people who will be unable to have the benefits that I enjoyed as a youth as doors close and the number of programs shrink, and people who won’t know the joy of volunteering, and the relationships that come from these efforts.
I think back to all of the volunteers and philanthropists who made possible the YMCA programs I benefited from. Will future generations have the same opportunities to be mentored by a caring adult who was giving up their own Saturday morning to teach kids how to swim, or play basketball or pitch a tent?
It’s not just our nonprofit programs that are at stake — it’s our deepest values and our civic culture. I am called as a Muslim to be generous. In fact, one of the 99 names of Allah is Al Kareem — “the Generous.” If I am not being generous, through volunteerism and philanthropy, I am not being faithful. My Christian, Jewish, Hindu, Buddhist, Sikh, Baháʼí and secular humanist friends would tell you much the same thing.
It is nonprofit organizations where we do much of our volunteering and give much of our philanthropy (although The Generosity Commission report does note important growth in other areas of generosity, like mutual aid and online giving). In other words, American civil society is where so many of us express our core identities and strengthen our faith.
It’s also where we meet people of different identities engaged in the same activity — and thereby learning that we have so much more that connects us than divides us.
What could be more important during a polarizing election season than deepening our generosity and bridging our divides? As my fellow commission member, the Salvation Army’s Kenneth G. Hodder, said, “Generosity is an expression of what is best in the American spirit — the common pursuit of the nation’s well-being.”
Eboo Patel, the founder and president of Interfaith America, is a contributing writer for the Deseret News, the author of “We Need to Build: Field Notes for a Diverse Democracy” and the host of the podcast “Interfaith America with Eboo Patel.”