Working at a charity was one of the most rewarding jobs I’ve had – friendly and talented colleagues, a dynamic working culture, and supporters whose enthusiasm was a daily inspiration. But, when I found out what some of my colleagues were up to – I knew I had to leave.
It was my job to coordinate a fundraising event and it was on the rise – donations increased and the number of participants grew. I wanted to build on the momentum, shout about our success and highlight how many people had got involved in the past year.
But, when I broached this with my colleagues I was told we could never talk publicly about the numbers. Our corporate fundraising team had told the event’s sponsor that a five-figure number of people were participating, which was more than six times the real amount.
My colleagues said they needed to inflate the numbers to secure a higher sponsorship fee. They insisted other charities were doing the same thing and that this was just what you did to “meet target” – and in any case it was all for a good cause.
But, despite the justifications, it felt wrong for a charity to behave dishonestly. Our supporters seemed to place such faith in us to represent something good and I wondered how they would feel if they knew about this deception.
I soon learned that this was not an isolated example. More than once our charity would organise a public survey and misrepresent the results to keep the sponsor happy. This, again, was openly discussed in the office.
I wondered if I was being over sensitive. I enjoyed the job and believed in the cause – was this really such a big deal? I questioned whether we were making the world a better place by lying to our sponsors – or merely enriching our small corner of it. I also wondered if we were receiving money that would otherwise have been spent on non-charitable activities – or just securing a chunk of the company’s budget that could have gone to another charity?
As much as I loved the job, I didn’t want to be party to what seemed like fraud. I approached various regulatory organisations and also received helpful guidance from a whistleblowing charity.
Eventually I handed in my notice, explaining that the deception of our sponsor had been a major factor in my decision. To my surprise I was asked to reconsider, and was assured that the practices would stop. But I was never sure how sincere this commitment was. I left soon afterwards.
Most charity professionals I’ve spoken to since have been shocked by these examples. But from time to time I have come across individuals who believe that lying is ok if it protects a charity’s image, furthers its interests, or makes their own job easier. While the recent cases I’ve encountered have been less extreme, the justification has often been the same – that it’s “all for a good cause”.
I’ve often wondered if this justification makes it easier to be dishonest within a charity – the overwhelming rightness of the cause appears to outweigh any wrongdoing.
Yet, it seems to me that the charity sector succeeds, in part, because of public faith in charities to do the decent thing. I worry that when this faith is abused, it undermines everyone, including the many organisations – and staff – who stay honest and play by the rules.
Confessions of a charity professional is the Guardian Voluntary Sector Network’s anonymous series where charity workers tell it how it is. If you would like to pitch us an idea, click here.
