As Americans set records for charitable giving in response to Hurricane Katrina, some fundraisers are seeing a principle confirmed: When the sufferers are perceived as innocent victims, donors respond generously.
At the same time, giving patterns suggest that donors are losing patience with chronic problems such as poverty, in which suffering is arguably exacerbated by questionable choices. Private donations are shrinking for homeless shelters, AIDS-related services and programs for troubled youth, to cite a few examples.
In religious circles and beyond, some see a troubling trend: Compassion is increasingly reserved for those who appear to have done no wrong.
It took only 10 days after the hurricane hit the Gulf Coast for donors to exceed $602 million for relief efforts, according to the Center on Philanthropy at Indiana University. Similarly, 10 days after the attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, Americans had donated $239 million to relief efforts.
A glance at the big picture reveals an increasingly generous public. Annual giving to all charities has climbed from $231 billion in 2001 to $249 billion in 2004.
But closer scrutiny reveals that giving for social services -- including legal services, food pantries and rehabilitation for ex-convicts -- has declined from a $22.1 billion peak in 2001 to $19.2 billion in 2004. Hardest hit were small organizations, raising less than $1 million a year, which received 3.4 percent less from private donors in 2004 than in 2003, according to Giving USA 2005.
"For some reason, we're not being sympathetic to the poor and the needy as we're leaving certain people behind," said Daniel Borochoff, president of the Chicago-based American Institute of Philanthropy. "It is harder to raise money for people who made bad choices. . . . It is hard for the charities to tell people, 'Yeah, okay, sure, these giant things get a lot of news, but you know, there's thousands of people who smoke in bed and start a fire and have to get help.' "
Historically, donors haven't dwelled on the question, "Is it your fault or not?" said Chronicle of Philanthropy editor Stacy Palmer. But she has a hunch that donors now ask it quite often.
"I think it's increasing" as a criterion, Palmer said. "Charities need to do more to get information out about the kinds of problems people face and why they face them." Otherwise, she said, would-be donors can too easily dismiss a particular cause because it seems the people were responsible for their own misfortune.
Religious charities say they feel the pressure to frame every cause as one on the side of innocent victims. Virginia-based Christian Children's Fund, for instance, hasn't hesitated to serve Angolan teenagers, even though some took up arms to advance a bloody civil war, according to Betty Forbes, vice president of marketing. Yet she said marketing appeals need to emphasize that the teenagers joined militias not as free agents but under lots of pressure.
"You have to say that that's what happened to them," Forbes said. "They were pretty normal children, [but] they were taken out of school, they never had a childhood, they certainly didn't have any teenage years. They were fighting. So you. . . explain what happened and how we as an organization can help them get back into the community and hopefully allow them to be children again."
Not all religious donors are on the lookout for innocents. For the 49 members of Maryland-based Foundations and Donors Interested in Catholic Activities, priority is given to the poor, regardless of how they got that way, according to Francis J. Butler, the group's president.
"I get very nervous when we start talking about the 'worthy poor,' " Butler said. "In the national debate, the poor got smeared with the idea that these poor were driving Cadillacs while they were on welfare. . . . The thing to do is respond [to their plight] as Christ would respond, with justice and mercy."
As Americans show a passion for disaster relief, funds are increasingly earmarked for those efforts. Church World Service, an ecumenical relief agency based in New York, saw about 20 percent of its budget go for disaster relief before fiscal 2004-05. The rest was divided among such projects as international development, advocacy, education and refugee resettlement.
Last year, however, tsunami relief donations pushed the CWS disaster budget to 35 percent of the $84 million total, according to Rick Augsburger, deputy director of programs. And of the funds donated for tsunami relief, only 30 percent went for long-term recovery. The rest was for the initial emergency only.
More than half of donors are motivated by faith, according to two recent Center on Philanthropy surveys. Yet principles of religious faith aren't always manifest in charitable decisions, according to George Rupp, former Harvard Divinity School dean and International Rescue Committee president.
"Donors who are oriented to meeting human needs should be most generous to where the needs are greatest," Rupp said. "I think that is not the case when overwhelmingly more is given to the victims of natural disasters than to the victims of protracted conflicts."
At the Minnesota State Fair in St. Paul, people deposit money for Hurricane Katrina relief in a Salvation Army kettle.