Recently, while interviewing the executive director of a non-profit organization, I saw that he not only monitors the workload of his workers, but also calculates the cash flow of each case as a basis for issuing bonuses. "NPOs like us have to work harder to earn money than for-profit organizations do," he said. It might sound unbelievable, but it makes sense if you think about it.
The executive director, who has a master's degree from National Taiwan University, established this foundation ten years ago together with four friends. Over time, the foundation made significant achievements and attracted donations. The partners started earning half of a normal salary, then a full salary with bonuses. When hard times came, they went back to working without pay.
Founders of NPOs may be able to work without a salary, even digging into their own pockets, but what about employees?
"When the foundation first became strong enough to offer jobs, a young man came to apply," the founder relates. "After my lecture on our goals and ideas, the first thing he inquired about was the benefits." This "reality check" awakened the founder from his dream of changing society through dedication and sacrifice.
Then he realized that without a reasonable salary, you can only employ workers who are not serious about the job. But what he needs are highly intelligent people who can work 14-hour days, organize activities, write reports, collect materials from international websites and ask for the copyright permissions, invite international groups to Taiwan, and to travel abroad when needed to represent the organization at major international conferences. How could one possibly employ this kind of talent on low wages? And how would one get them to stay?
Needless to say, NPOs must earn revenue and be able to hold onto and develop their human resources. In Taiwan where donating to charities isn't common, NPOs are often forced to work closely with the government, commercial enterprises, and even the media. The question of how NPOs can operate without compromising their commitment to the public good, their independence, and their role as social critics is beginning to trouble the NPO sector in Taiwan.
Not only are normal companies expected to make a profit, but they can also openly solicit and receive various types of support and awards from the government. It is unfair that NPOs, on the other hand, are subject to so many restrictions.
In seeking a solution to this problem, many heads of NPOs have come to the realization that small donors are not dependable and neither can the government be relied on. The only solution for these organizations is self-reliance and that accounts for the commercialization of NPOs in Taiwan.
A young NPO activist once suggested to the president of an NPO that he build a learning center on a ranch, and invite technology professionals to hold conferences and socialize there. Just NT1 million a year would be sufficient to keep the center going. But would banks be willing to grant the necessary loans? Would techies support it? What if it didn't turn a profit? The activist smiled wryly and replied, "If it doesn't work out, then we'll just take it as a business learning experience. It will be of some use in any case."
Everyone knows that NPOs are the conscience of society, but that doesn't mean that people in the NPO industry, be they idealistic founders or employees who just want to feed their families, are duty bound to sacrifice themselves for a greater cause.
A conscience career is everyone's career. A Tzu Chi representative in my office would rather ask for $100 from each colleague each month, than receive a yearly minimum donation of $1200. When asked why she goes to all the trouble she does for so little return, she answered, "It's worth it to remind people now and then to show their love and caring for others." Taiwan's NPOs are at a crucial juncture. Have you done something lately to show your love and concern for your fellow man?
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