The Reynolds "Charity" Empire in Decline

A few years ago I wrote a post entitled, "Is The Breast Cancer Society a Worthy Charity", to which the answer was "No". The comments to that thread are extensive, and include a defense of the organization from Kristina Hixson, which avoided answering any of the tough questions or giving an honest explanation of the organization's operations. She went so far as to post a series of fake endorsements to the thread, trying to bury valid criticism behind fictitious praise.

Oh yes, and she went on to marry the man who ran that "charity", James T. Reynolds II.

Over time, the Reynolds' family of "charities" started to receive press scrutiny. The Tampa Bay Times published an article, "Intricate family connections bind several of America's worst charities". It opens

Carol Smith still gets angry when she remembers the box that arrived by mail for her dying husband.

Cancer Fund of America sent it when he was diagnosed with lung cancer six years ago.

Smith had called the charity for help. "It was filled with paper plates, cups, napkins and kids' toys," the 67-year-old Knoxville, Tenn., resident said.

"My husband looked like somebody slapped him in the face. "I just threw it in the trash."

The story continues,

In the past three years alone, Cancer Fund and its associated charities raised $110 million. The charities paid more than $75 million of that to solicitors. Cancer Fund ranks second on the Times/CIR list of America's worst charities. (Florida's Kids Wish Network placed first.)

Salaries in 2011 topped $8 million — 13 times more than patients received in cash. Nearly $1 million went to Reynolds family members.

The network's programs are overstated at best. Some have been fabricated.

The Federal Government has finally managed to partially shut down the Reynolds empire:

In reality, officials say, millions of dollars raised by four “sham charities” [Cancer Fund of America, Cancer Support Services, Children’s Cancer Fund of America and the Breast Cancer Society] lined the pockets of the groups’ founders and their family members, paying for cars, luxury cruises, and all-expense paid trips to Disney World for charity board members.

The 148-page fraud lawsuit accuses the charities of ripping off donors nationwide to the tune of $187 million from 2008 to 2012 in a scheme one federal official called “egregious” and “appalling.”...

Among the allegations is that [Reynolds' ex-wife, Rose] Perkins gave 10% across-the-board bonuses twice a year to employees [of the Children’s Cancer Fund of America], regardless of performance, and was allowed to set her own salary and bonuses up to a limit without the approval of board members. In 2010, when donations to the Breast Cancer Society were declining, Reynolds II’s salary ballooned from $257,642 to $370,951, according to the complaint.

What can a grifter do, but grift? Even having been shut down, the Breast Cancer Society promises to come back to leach off of the good intentions of people who want to help cancer survivors:

The silver lining in all of this is that the organization has the ability to continue operating our most valued and popular program, the Hope Supply. Our Board will work tirelessly to maintain the Hope Supply program services that have benefitted our many patients for years – initially under the TBCS banner as it transitions under a different organization – all with the goal of seamlessly providing services to you. I take solace in the fact that this wonderful program has the chance to continue operating.

There is a note of honesty, "I have loved leading TBCS...." Why wouldn't James love working in a job that paid him royally for performing little work, despite his indifference to the needs of the people his charity was supposed to help? It's a gravy train he's eager to re-board, so watch out for his next "charity", coming soon to a list of the nation's worst charities near you.

If you want a good measure of James Reynolds II's character, watch him on video.

Sorry, I No Longer Donate Over the Phone

A couple of years ago I wrote about my experience with a fund raiser for The Breast Cancer Society, and the behavior of their representative in my comment thread has not softened my views on the organization. But alas, even if I'm contacted by a worthy charity, my present response is going to be, "Sorry, I no longer donate over the phone. Please remove my name and number from your list."

Why? Three basic reasons:

1. I Don't Like the Interruption: When I'm working, eating dinner with my family, relaxing, I don't need the phone to be ringing with somebody asking for money.

2. It's Probably Not the Actual Charity: Very often the person making the call is working for a professional fund raising outfit that may be taking 80% or more of the money raised. When that happens, I can hang up the phone, go on line, and give directly to the charity - and the charity ends up with a lot more money.

3. Fraud is On the Rise: We've seen any number of "sound alike" charities arise, using names similar to established, quality charities in order to elicit contributions from confused donors. But we are now seeing overseas phone banks set up, pretending to be actual charities, soliciting donations by credit card and then using the credit card numbers to engage in fraudulent purchases.

By saying "I don't give over the phone", I get time to investigate a charity, donate directly to the charity if I find it to be worthwhile, preserve my donation for a better cause or charity if I find it is not, and avoid any possibility that the person on the other end of the phone line is actually trying to steal my credit card information.

Is "The Breast Cancer Society" a Worthy Charity

I received a solicitation phone call from "The Breast Cancer Society", or more correctly from a phone bank they use to solicit donations, presumably because I have donated to other breast cancer charities in the past year. The phone bank had a decent script, concise and designed to inspire emotion with a dose of guilt at the end ("can the children count on you"), although I have to assume that the last line got crossed with the final appeal for another of the phone bank's charities.

I am always skeptical of donating money to charities through a phone bank, because the costs of those fundraising programs are so high. The phone bank takes a significant cut, from what I've heard between 40% and 90%. They also want a decision "now, now, now", diminishing your opportunity to figure out if they're a legitimate charity or a sound-alike charity - a charity that has picked a name that sounds a lot like a bona fide charity, but which has neither the integrity nor the track record of the charity from which their name is derived.

While on the phone I tried looking up "The Breast Cancer Society" in Charity Navigator. No dice. So I told the woman on the phone to call back later after I had a chance to investigate "The Breast Cancer Society" and figure out why it wasn't on Charity Navigator.

The answer to that last question is pretty simple. It's too new. The Breast Cancer Society doesn't have the necessary history of Form 990 filings with the IRS to support an entry in Charity Navigator. But wait a second... There's the Cancer Fund of America, run by the same people, which has a poor overall rating. The BBB has this to say:

Cancer Fund of America solicits donations across the U. S., including locally, through telemarketers, direct mail and online. The BBB found that more than 99 percent of all cash donations to the organization pay professional fundraising costs, salaries for charity officials, consultant fees and other expenses related to the charity’s operations.

* * *

Cancer Fund of America and a related support group, Cancer Fund of America Support Services, Inc., reported they raised slightly more than $17 million in 2007, the most recent year in which public information is available. Of that total, Cancer Fund of America reported it donated $54,000 in cash to unrelated groups or individuals – or about 3/10 of 1 percent. Of that $54,000, however, $50,000 went to a court directed cancer charity as part of a settlement with the Georgia Governor’s Office of Consumer Affairs. The state alleged the charity gave out deceptive and misleading solicitations to consumers.

The salaries and benefit packages for charity president James T. Reynolds, Sr., two sons and a son-in-law totaled more than $537,000 for the same period.

The charity responded to the BBB that, having raised $17 million in cash donations and $5.8 million in non-cash donations in 2007, it should get credit for the "$3.3 million in non-cash donations the charity gave to individuals and other organizations in 2007."

However, several of the organizations listed in the charity’s federal report appear to have little direct connection with cancer causes.

A spokesperson for Angelic Ministries, an organization that works with the poor in the Knoxville region, said it receives “oodles” of items from Cancer Fund of America. Cancer Fund of America reported it gave about $317,000 in donated items to the ministry in 2007, and the spokesperson said much of that was over-the-counter pain and cold medications. She said about half the drug items were expired, but usually only by a few months, and the drugs remained effective.

Cancer Fund of America also reported giving nearly $230,000 in donated items to Trinity Rescue Mission of Jacksonville, Fla. A spokesperson there said that organization deals largely with the homeless and not specifically with cancer patients. She said she had no record of ever receiving any donations from Cancer Fund of America, although she said the items could have come through another organization. Reynolds failed to respond when asked specifically about the rescue mission donation.

The article provides further detail on the organization's management, expenses, and activities. In terms of related organizations:

Also, Federal records show Cancer Fund of America Support Services, Inc. received slightly less than $8.2 million in cash donations in 2007. That organization’s only outgoing grant was for $750,000 – to Cancer Fund of America. The report says its fundraising expenses totaled about $6.1 million. James T. Reynolds Jr., a son of James T. Reynolds Sr., is listed as president of the support group.

Rose Perkins, who formerly worked with her husband, Reynolds Sr., at Cancer Fund of America, left that organization several years ago and currently heads Children’s Cancer Fund of America of Powell, Tenn. Records show that Children’s Cancer Fund of America received about $5.4 million in cash donations and $2.2 million in non-cash donations in 2007. She reported direct cash to patients at about $382,000, or about 7 cents of every $1.00 raised. Fundraising expenses were reported at nearly $6.3 million, with $3.4 million going to Associated Community Services.

Perhaps that's the organization whose script was crossed with The Breast Cancer Society's, as that would explain why I was asked if the children could count on me.

Recent news accounts say that James T. Reynolds Jr. recently became head of yet another cancer organization, this one in Mesa, Ariz., and called The Breast Cancer Society. That charity has not operated long enough to file a federal report with the IRS.

Charity Navigator highlights this family of charities on its list of "10 Non-Profits That Make Ebenezer Proud"

Cancer Fund of America Support Services & Children's Cancer Fund of America

Both of these organizations are affiliated with the 0-star Cancer Fund of America. All three are run by one family - James Reynolds Sr., James Reynolds Jr. (son of James Reynolds Sr.), Joshua Loveless (son-in-law to James Reynolds Sr.), Claudette Perkins (sister-in-law to James Reynolds Sr. and sister to Rose Perkins) and Michael Reynolds (son of James Reynolds Sr.). According to their most recently filed Forms 990, both the Cancer Fund of America Support Services and the Children's Cancer Fund of America spent at least 85% of their budgets on fundraising and just 11% on programs and services.

Are you surprised that, after I instructed them that I would investigate them before making a donation, I have not heard back?

Update:

You Should Sacrifice For Others

Take it from Nicholas Kristof. Writing of a teenager who convinced her family to sell its manse and to donate half of the value to charity, Kristof writes,

Eventually, that’s what the family did. The project — crazy, impetuous and utterly inspiring — is chronicled in a book by father and daughter scheduled to be published next month: “The Power of Half.” It’s a book that, frankly, I’d be nervous about leaving around where my own teenage kids might find it. An impressionable child reads this, and the next thing you know your whole family is out on the street.

The joke about his own teenagers is illustrative of what is sometimes referred to as limousine liberalism. Yes, the family did move from their first house to one half its size and cost. Yes, they dedicated half of the proceeds form the sale of their larger home to charity. But please, before asking that your readers share in similar sacrifice (while joking about your own reluctance), how about some context?

• House #1, 6,162 square feet, equipped with its own elevator, five beds, four baths, eight fireplaces, recently sold for $1,450,000.

• House #2, 2,986 square feet, three beds, four baths, sold for $962,200.

I don't mean to belittle the act of moving into a smaller home and donating a substantial amount of money to charity. But really....

Back home, our friends and family kept asking us, "What is it like to live in half the space?" Before we downsized, we were a little worried. Would we feel squeezed? Or like we'd made too big a sacrifice? Two years later, I can tell you: It's the best move we ever made.

Of course, our new house required some lifestyle adjustments. In our old home, French doors opened onto a balcony and a wooded yard, and sunshine filled the kitchen. The views from our current kitchen are obscured by our neighbor's house. Our pots and pans fit in the cabinets, but that's about the extent of the space. We can't open the silverware drawer without closing the dishwasher first.

Squeezing a family of four into a 3,000 square foot, four bathroom, $million home? What sort of peer group do you think we're talking about that their first question is "How do you survive?" Also, in context, it's apparent that the family could have afforded to both dedicate half of the house's value to charity while remaining in the larger home. It's on a smaller scale, but Kristof's column still feels a bit like the statement, "Bill Gates gave $1 billion to his charitable foundation - and please don't ask what I have done - but what have you done lately?"

From what I can see about the Salwens, what they're doing is admirable. They've moved on from successful first careers that gave them considerable financial security and are now following a path that is largely focused on self-transformation through helping others. They respect the fact that others are probably not positioned to follow a similar path,

We had more than enough house, and it was something we could cut in half to help those in need. But most people can find some commodity in their lives they could give up, whether it's time (halving the hours of TV you watch each week and volunteering instead?) or stuff (donating half the clothes in your closet?). Like us, your family could set out to make a small difference in the world—and transform yourselves in the process.

According to Kristof, the Salwen's "aim [is] to encourage people to step off the treadmill of accumulation, to define themselves by what they give as well as by what they possess." I just find it interesting that the message is presented to the mass market, rather than being directed at the millionaires and billionaires of our society who rage and froth at the notion of a half-percent tax increase to help the less fortunate. I really wish Kristof, being quite fortunate himself, had taken a step beyond telling his readers what they should do - or joking about what his own kids might ask of him - and telling us of the sacrifices the book inspired him to make.

The Business of Charity

You know, sometimes I get a bit tired of columnists who (uncritically) read a book, decide it has the answers to some or all of the world's problems, then pen a column espousing the book's thesis. It's not as bad as stenography of the latest party memo, but generally speaking it's a path to a weak column.

Nicholas Kristof recently read a book by a failed businessman, Dan Pallotta, lamenting how after he raised a ton of money for some wealthy charities he was cast aside. Kristof makes a huge assumption, that the reason Pallotta's company failed was his salary:

But Mr. Pallotta’s company wasn’t a charity, but rather a for-profit company that created charitable events. Critics railed at his $394,500 salary - low for a corporate chief executive, but stratospheric in the aid world - and at the millions of dollars spent on advertising and marketing and other expenses.

Kristof then wrestles, in a peculiar way, with the question of whether higher salaries for the leaders of charities would lead to better or worse results:

I also worry that if aid groups paid executives as lavishly as Citigroup, they would be managed as badly as Citigroup.

Is that the issue? Pallotta worked with the Avon Foundation. Did Kristof call Avon and ask, "Does the person who heads your multi-million dollar charitable trust earn $400,000 or more?" Does he know that the CEO of the Red Cross earns more than $500,000 per year? That the President of the United Way has a salary of about $400,000 in compensation and an expense allowance (plus benefits), but pulled in an additional $800,000 in bonuses in 2007? $1.2 million isn't sufficiently "corporate" compensation? Here's where I'll give Pallotta his due - he was innovative, and shifted the ground for large charitable fundraising events. Have you noticed that the United Way has done anything particularly different or innovative that would justify the huge bonuses "earned" by its president? If so, it has occurred way below my radar.

Sure, it may raise people's hackles that charities are paying their executives astronomical bonuses, but despite some brief negative publicity the United Way hasn't failed. So perhaps we should take a step back, and consider why people give to charity? By spending few minutes on Google, Kristof would have come up with this interesting case study:

When the individual gives money to a charity, no product or service is necessarily provided to them. What the individual purchases is much more ethereal. A contributor to charity receives a sense of reward, self-satisfaction, pride, or deeper purpose from the act of giving. Donors receive the pleasure of altruism as the product of their economic transaction.

The pleasure of altruism is the product supplied by charities. For example, a dollar given to a homeless person on a street corner might buy a small amount of altruistic pleasure, but a million dollar grant to find a cure for AIDS might buy much more. The homeless person and the AIDS cure charity provide different altruistic pleasures. You may not know the homeless man, but you may know someone who has or has died from AIDS. Or perhaps the opposite is true. But such a personal connection is just one example of how a charity creates differentiation among the many suppliers of altruistic pleasure. We most often correlate a charity’s purpose with its worthiness, and therefore with the quantity of altruistic pleasure it can provide.

Here is where the traditional Neo-classical view of markets begins to fall apart. The charity market is not a perfectly competitive market that balances the supply of worthy causes with the demand for altruistic pleasure because no two worthy causes are the same. While the supply of worthy causes is practically infinite, the market is highly differentiated. One cause may be deemed more worthy by more people, create more altruistic pleasure, and therefore receive more funds than its competitors. Price is not the primary means by which the resource of altruistic pleasure is allocated.

Pallotta's company, Pallotta TeamWorks (PTW), was truly innovative in maximizing the altruistic pleasure felt by participants in its events - and then it dropped the ball. Their innovation was in designing targeted events

tailored to elicit the extreme emotions of altruistic pleasure.... such as biking across a dessert to support AIDS charities or walking 60 miles for three days in the footsteps of breast cancer survivors. The events supported people in doing things that they never achieved before in the name of a worth cause, a desirable vehicle for acquiring altruistic pleasure.

They used sophisticated marketing to communicate to participants "the altruistic pleasures that could be received" through participation in an event. They also provided front-to-back support for participants, to help them succeed first in raising a substantial amount of money required simply to enter the event, and carrying through equipment purchases, training, and support during the event itself.

And at the event, PTW created mobile cities in which the participants ate, slept, and most importantly, intermingled with others inspired to champion the same cause. Through such support PTW was able to keep existing participants involved in future events while continuing to attract new ones. “The organizations that are going to survive and effectively provide services,” says Terje Anderson, executive director of the National Association of People With AIDS, “are going to be the ones that figure out ways to market themselves to new private donors and, at the same time, successfully keep their old donor base”

Although none of these ideas were new, Pallotta's innovation was in bringing them together and creating more efficient fundraising processes. If a charity could afford his services, for a flat fee he would provide them with soup to nuts support for their event - they needed no experience or expertise. The only requirement was that they pay his seven figure event planning fee. And while there were events that were not successful, most of Pallotta's events returned considerably more than his fee.

By 2001, PTW’s ideas, people, and competitive fundraising events were creating real economic growth. PTW’s charities had received more than 3 million donor contributions, equal to more than 1% of the US population (Pallotta TeamWorks 2002, p. 30). But in 2001 PTW’s fundraising numbers began to decline and its participants began dropping out. PTW carefully designed an attractive set of attributes, created a higher value product, and lowered transaction costs for their market by reaching a huge audience. So where did the firm go wrong?

The article suggests that PTW's success depended upon "participants’ approval and excitement over the emotional, engaging way that the firm produced money for charity". Early events returned an average of about 67% of the proceeds to charity, but by 2000 that amount had dropped to about 53%, raising concerns about PTW's management of funds. An alternative theory that, to me, seems more intuitive is that annual events were starting to burn out their participants and their participants' sponsors, and may have started to seem like "the same old thing" rather than a new and cool thing you could do for your charity. But no question, when the money stops rolling in, people start looking at the money trail - and that's where a salary that may have been an irrelevancy a year or two before can suddenly seem excessive. And there is no question that, for example, participation levels for Avon's breast cancer walks were dropping. Low participation makes the high cost of these events seem unwise - for the 2002 D.C. AIDSRide, it's reported that 86% of the proceeds went to overhead and expenses.

Pallotta also started to heavily cross-market his own company and, reportedly, other PTW events:

PTW began cross-marketing events for other new events and causes to existing participants using slick brochures, kiosks, and infomercials disguised as safety videos. Event participants “saw Pallotta merchandise, like books by the company’s founder, all along the route” (Winters 2002). T-shirts, sweatshirts, and other collateral were hawked to participants, all trumpeting the PTW brand, not the cause. A former PTW employee and event participant complained that the AIDSRide events “became a Pallotta TeamWorks event, and they stopped even talking about AIDS” (Freiberg 2002). To event participants the PTW brand smacked of commercialism and obstructed their access to the real product, the pleasure of altruism.

(PTW reportedly denies cross-promoting other events at its 3-day events.) This opened the door to criticism and skepticism of PTW and its integrity, ultimately causing its flagship partners to fire PTW. There are a couple of lessons here that Pallotta and Kristof seem to have missed:

Participants didn’t care that PTW was the brand producing the altruistic pleasure. They cared about the means of how it was produced and the quality of that product. As Peter Drucker reminds us, quality “is not what the supplier puts in. It is what the customer gets out and is willing to pay for”

In other words, Pallotta stopped producing the product his customers wanted. And in that respect, PTW was like any other business - if you can't sell the customer what she wants, you'll fail.

The case study goes on to describe some of the economics of scale produced by Pallotta's massive events, and how some charities managed to generate millions of dollars in donations (despite marketing costs approaching 60% of revenues) while more "cost-efficient" traditional fund-raising might have only raised a fraction of that amount. This brings me back to Kristof's piece, in which he observes, "It’s notable that leaders of Oxfam and Save the Children have publicly endorsed the book". No, it's not particularly notable, at least when you get past the notion that Pallotta's innovation was his own salary as opposed to his emphasis on effective marketing and his desire to get away from efficiency as the best measure of charitable success.

Oxfam and Save the Children spend a lot of money on marketing. At the same time, their charitable ratings depend upon their keeping their administrative and fundraising expenses low as compared to the money they apply to their programs. A multi-million dollar investment in marketing might bring in tens of millions of dollars in new donations - but could drag down their efficiency ratings and turn off or scare away another set of potential donors. Charity ratings sites often list, right along with the charity you're evaluating, a series of similar charities - it's easy to find one with a better efficiency rating, and to direct your money to that charity instead. A big part of Pallotta's failure might be attributed to the rating standards of the Better Business Bureau:

The BBB had issued more stringent guidelines, which became effective in 2003. Prior to 2003, CBBB standards limited fund-raising expenses to 50% of related donations (Heaney 2003). The Avon 3-Days historically averaged fund-raising costs close to 40% of total donations through 2001 (PTW 2001), complying with watchdog group guidelines. In 2003, the NCIB and the CBBB merged, forming the BBB Wise Giving Alliance. A new standard required fund-raising expenses to be no more than 35% of “related contributions” (BBB 2006a). This meant that Avon Foundation’s historic average level of performance would no longer be good enough to comply. Another standard called for program spending to exceed 65% of total expenses.

The trend of the Avon events’ fund-raising ratio going into 2003 was not good. In 2001, in part because of disruption caused by the September 11 attacks, the fund-raising ratio had risen from 36% in 2000 to 43%. The 2002 event season had some unusual costs related to the shut-down of PTW in August (Avon 2002), and the fund-raising ratio rose to 49% of related donations. Program spending as a percent of total expenses was only 41%, far below the 65% level specified by the BBB.

Yet it appears that part of that warm, altruistic feeling many people get from making donations arises from the knowledge that only a small part of their contribution will go to administrative costs and marketing. While this is a bit different than the environment for a traditional business, within the world of charitable giving it's something that's not likely to change. The lesson that Oxfam and Save the Children might draw from Pallotta's experience is that by providing a good altruistic experience you can push marketing and administration costs past the 30% level, but as they approach 50% you can expect the backlash to begin. As Pallotta can no doubt attest, that can turn into a microscopic examination of everything you do by the people who feel that you took advantage of your altriusm. Seemingly overnight, you can go from being seen as a helpful symbiote to being perceived as a destructive parasite.

Meanwhile, six years after his business failed, other than marketing himself, what's Pallotta offering to the rest of the world?

Kristof concludes with a couple of stories about how capitalist enterprises can return social utility. This, apparently, surprises him. He describes how a consulting firm helped Rwanda improve its public image in the United States, and significantly increase the price of Rwandan coffee and tea. He also describes how a Nigerian businessman is making money installing pay toilets - he rents, leases and sells port-a-potties. I'm not sure why this would surprise anybody - or why Kristof would see the return of social utility as the province of a charity as opposed to a business. I get my electrical, phone and gas service from profit-making utility companies - I get great benefit from those services, but none of the providers are charities. Furthermore, if there's money to be made and free market forces will result in the spread of a good in a manner equivalent to or better than that which could be achieved by a charity, the charity should invest its efforts and resources elsewhere.

A Clash Of Faiths

On one side, the inimitable Michael Gerson,

But compassionate conservatism has come under criticism for a variety of reasons. For some, it is fundamentally at odds with fiscal conservatism -- no social priority is deemed more urgent than balancing the budget. For others, it is a violation of their vision of limited government -- the state's only valid purpose is to uphold markets and protect individual liberty. But by drawing these limits so narrowly, such critics would relegate conservatism to the realm of rejected ideologies: untainted, uncomplicated and ignored. And by leaving great social needs unmet, they would grant liberalism an open field and invite genuine statism.

On the other side, (sort of) free market advocacy from Daniel Larison:

How tiresome it is to hear that “social needs” are unmet because government is not involved in meeting them, or that government must be involved if those needs are, in fact, unmet. If they’re unmet, they’re probably unmet because someone whining in the name of “compassion” forty years ago complained that the government wasn’t doing enough, so the state usurped the proper social functions of existing institutions that have since withered and died from neglect and lack of support, and now all we are left with is recourse to still more government.

A big part of the problem with "compassionate conservativism" is that it was a lie from day one, with perhaps Michael Gerson being the only living person not to have come to terms with that fact. The term represents typical G.W., attempting to depict himself as a centrist who will reinvent the social safety net to help people climb out of poverty, coupled with a promise to dole hundreds of millions (perhaps billions) of federal dollars into religious organizations. He didn't mean the first part and, as far as I can see, for G.W. the second part was solely about getting votes. I've seen no evidence that G.W. cares about the efficacy of vouchers (and in fact "No Child Left Behind" and voucher programs appear calculated to prevent direct comparison of public schools to private schools, by doling out money to private schools while exempting them from NCLB's testing requirements and standards).

But what of Larison's cult of the free market? What social support network is he imagining, flourishing some forty years ago, but that has now disappeared? It's a fiction presented as fact.

That's not to say that the government has not stepped into places where charities, particularly religious charities, once dominated. Counties offer free and discounted medical care that one might have historically received through a hospital founded by a religious group. Poor people get food stamps (or should I say an EBT card) rather than queueing outside of the Salvation Army offices or some other soup kitchen. Housing subsidies and government funded shelters have largely replaced charitable shelters.

But when you look at why this happened, it was due to the failure of private and religious charities to meet the needs of an industrialized society. Giving full respect to the significant charitable efforts made by many people and organizations before the dawn of the so-called "welfare state", there was no glory day when the needs of all of the nation's poor were well-met by charity. Religions and charities did not shutter workhouses and orphanages, in favor of keeping families together. Religions and charities did not bring about universal public education. Religions and charities still do operate hospitals - but for most of us, the bill isn't any smaller than it would be at a private or public hospital, and they would be overwhelmed and bankrupted if they were to open their doors to the nation's poor with no charge and without requesting reimbursement through Medicare and Medicaid. Moreover, the government can administer programs evenly across states or the entire nation, where charities did not and cannot. In short, we're dealing with two issues: The fact that the world Larison depicts as an ideal never existed (and never will), and the fact that society has changed from the days when charities and religious organizations could partially fulfill the needs now served by government.

The question of whether it is better to serve up charity with a religious sermon or a dose of shame, or if it is better to leave charity to hands that can deny relief to people deemed "undeserving" (whether because they're not seen as making a sufficient effort, or because they're of the wrong faith or perhaps even ethnicity) is apart from the question of whether private charities and religions could take the place of public social assistance in a modern industrialized society. They cannot. You want to talk about ending dependence? I'm all ears. But it's a separate issue.

Gerson seems to recognize the failure of non-state actors, arguing that fiscal conservatives, "by leaving great social needs unmet, ... would grant liberalism an open field and invite genuine statism." Where he devolves into the comical is in the idea that the "alternative" is for state and federal governments to tax their citizens then pass the money along to third parties to administer in a "charitable" manner. There's no evidence presented, nor argument given, that this approach saves money, increases efficiency, or reduces dependency.

Larison objects to the continuation of dependency, arguing,

However the program or initiative is designed, it will always be another form of dependency and another means to concentrate power in the state by creating these bonds of dependency on government initiatives. How insulting to listen to someone who has never blinked at proposing spending other people’s money on the problems of people he has never met mock fiscal responsibility, and then claim that those interested in the profoundly moral effort to not pass on our debts to our posterity supposedly believe that balanced budgets are the top “social priority.” What is Michael Gerson’s top social priority? It seems that gratifying his undying need for atoning vicariously through good works that he isn’t doing that are paid for by wealth he isn’t creating in places he will never go is his top priority, and woe betide the moneychangers who block him on the path of righteousness!

Well, a big part of the problem probably starts with turning this into a religious debate, dictated by unseen forces emanating from our WWJD bracelets. The fact is that as long as there have been churches, there have been collection plates. Shall we discuss tithing, which at times and places in history was little different from a tax? What churches offered straw polls to let people decide where and how they spent the collected money? Save for individual efforts and those of small groups, something that cannot take the place of large-scale social programs, this has always been about paying money to third parties who decide if and how it will be expended for the benefit of the poor.

The dichotomy Larison implies - and it's a false dichotomy - is that we have a choice between balancing the budget and providing public assistance to the poor. We can also balance the budget by increasing taxes or cutting other areas of spending. So if we're going to speak of a "profoundly moral effort to not pass on our debts to our posterity", we must ask why the most "moral" solution is to put social spending on the chopping block, while preserving current levels of corporate welfare, military spending, and those provisions of the tax code that are exceedingly favorable to the rich, or instead of raising taxes to cover the difference. Larison argues,

Instead of a supposedly libertarian Christ, Gerson offers us Christ the social worker, which is an appropriation every bit as unpersuasive as the other caricatures he rejects, and the disciples of this social worker have an unerring ability to be extremely annoying.

You can make a strong libertarian case for prioritizing a balanced budget and cutting social welfare benefits first, but spare me any argument that it's dictated or even supported by Christ's teachings.