Training tomorrow’s leaders and supporting basic research, as Bell Labs once did, are goals of Christopher Daggett as he takes the reins Monday of the Geraldine R. Dodge Foundation.
In this free-wheeling 50-minute podcast, Chris and David Grant, the outgoing president of the Morristown-based foundation, share their views on the role of philanthropy in tough times.
“It’s extremely easy to give money away, but extremely difficult to give it away well,” says Chris, who ran for governor last year and is a past commissioner of the state Department of Environmental Protection. (Around the 28-minute mark of the podcast, which also will be available on iTunes. )
He says there is a need to give people the skills for effective leadership. And he suggests that perhaps 10 percent of the Dodge Foundation’s annual grants should roll the dice on basic research by students, from junior high schoolers to post-graduates, to see what great things they can come up with. (Around the 24 minute mark.) He cites the halcyon days of Bell Labs, where fundamental research yielded advances like the transistor and digital communications.
Chris and David agree what philanthropy CAN’T do– which, in a word, is everything. As government cuts back in this recession, foundations are being asked to plug more gaps. But there is not enough private money to subsidize all the public services being slashed, they agree. Focusing on niches is more critical than ever at the Dodge Foundation, where the endowment, once about $300 million, now stands around $235 million because of the rocky economy .
David, who became Dodge president in 1998, says the foundation had grown “very scattered” in its approach over the years. He narrowed the focus to reflect interests in “creativity and sustainability.” Although he once wrote 70 pages defining sustainability, he says it boils down to a holistic “vision of the world we want to have.” (Around the six-minute mark.)
The Dodge vision of that world is symbolized by its headquarters at 14 Maple Ave., his proudest achievement. It boasts geothermal wells, solar power and an interior “vertical garden” called a bio-wall.
Chris acknowledges that his strength is environmental policy, not the arts–arts education figures prominently in the Dodge mix–though he adds with a laugh, “I’m becoming a poetry guy.”
The Dodge Foundation’s biennial poetry festival is coming up this fall in Newark. The foundation was going to cancel for economic reasons, but a public uproar last year convinced David to reach out for a solution.
Chris says one of his challenges at Dodge will be saying no–and delivering that message quickly. Government and corporations have become too good at saying “maybe,” he says, leaving people in limbo. (Around the 32-minute mark.)
In a society driven by short election cycles and quarterly profit statements, private foundations have a unique ability to take a long-term view, both men say. David says he is continually amazed at the power of foundations to convene people: His phone calls and emails are returned promptly.
Chris says he plans to continue that tradition of collaboration. The trick, he says, will be staying grounded when everyone wants to be his best friend. “Don’t believe everything everybody tells you,” he says (around the 48-minute mark). “This is a real gift and opportunity to take on this kind of job.”
As for David, he will go home to Vermont with a beautiful pair of rocking chairs, presented at a sendoff this week at the New Jersey Performing Arts Center in Newark. It’s doubtful he will lounge in these chairs for very long, however. He envisions writing a book (around the 45-minute mark) about how organizations measure success, a project inspired by his “assessment workshops” at Dodge. They stressed “measuring what matters,” and proved popular with grant recipients.
And who knows, he might get the urge to take his Mark Twain show back on the road. (Hear his audition in the intro, and at the 13-minute mark.)
DISCLOSURE: One of our sponsors, Sustainable Morristown, is funded by the Dodge Foundation. AUDIO NOTE: That occasional creaking sound is not the mast of a ship, but rather a picnic table umbrella yearning to be one.