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Dear Funders: What Does it Mean to Care About Equity in Journalism?

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April 13, 2020

Here at Democracy Fund, we’ve been focused on addressing our grantees’ shifting needs, and finding ways to support engaged journalism during the global coronavirus crisis. As this pandemic continues to impact our country’s most marginalized communities disproportionately, we’ve become more sure than ever that it’s crucial not only to fund journalism, but to fund equitable journalism.

What do we mean when we talk about equity?

The “E” in “DEI” — equity — is often overlooked when compared to diversity (bringing more voices to the table) and inclusion (making sure these voices are included and valued).

That’s because equity challenges us to see the need for change at a deep level — it calls for a shift in systems and structures to address inequality at the root.

We believe a just and equitable political system must eliminate structural barriers to ensure historically excluded communities have meaningful influence in our democracy.

At Democracy Fund, we are proud to be a systems change organization. We believe a just and equitable political system must eliminate structural barriers to ensure historically excluded communities have meaningful influence in our democracy. The same is true for all of our systems, but here on the Engaged Journalism Lab, we’re focused on what equity can look like — and how funders can support it — in journalism.

What is equity in journalism?

When we talk about equity in journalism, we mean:

  • investing in newsrooms led by and serving historically marginalized groups;

For news to be trusted and responsible, it must incorporate a diverse array of community voices, particularly those that have been ignored or harmed by storytelling and stereotyping in media. Only then will historically marginalized communities be able to count on news and support it as a vital civic asset. This means shifting resources, access, and leadership to, and embracing the power of these groups.

Funders can and should take the lead in supporting this work. That’s why, over the next year, the Engaged Journalism Lab will focus on engaging funders to support equity in journalism.

Why equity in journalism is critical

Last year, we published a series of reports looking at media by and for communities of color. The research revealed unique challenges among them, but the main concern for all was sustainability — simply having the dollars to keep the doors open.

Unfortunately, these outlets are often overlooked by journalism funders. Our latest report, “Advancing Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion in Journalism: What Funders Can Do,” found that of the $1.1 billion journalism grants in the United States between 2013 and 2017, only 8.1 percent went to equity-focused efforts. This has deeply affected the stories that are told in this country.

We’ve sought to center equity throughout our Engaged Journalism strategy and across Democracy Fund’s Public Square Program. But we need exponentially more investment in this space if we’re going to correct historic inequities in philanthropic dollars. Here are three reasons why all journalism funders must invest in equity in journalism now:

1. It’s Good Business

America is rapidly diversifying, and newsrooms that want to remain relevant must learn how to serve all communities. As Martin Reynolds, co-Executive Director of the Maynard Institute, said at this year’s Knight Media Forum, “Let’s not say ‘voices from underrepresented communities.’ Let’s say ‘voices from your future audience.’”

A growing body of evidence shows a positive connection between the diversity of a company and its performance. For journalism, this means hiring and retaining reporters from different walks of life for more nuanced, creative reporting, and centering equity throughout senior management, who determine which stories are told and how.

2. It’s Good Ethics

Journalism’s equity problem has done significant damage. Color of Change’s 2017 report, “A Dangerous Distortion of Our Families,” examined representations of families, by race, in national and local media. It found that media disproportionately associated Black families with both poverty and criminality, stereotyping that has helped justify the historic over-policing of Black communities.

This biased reporting has existed for decades. In They Came to ToilDr. Melita Garza analyzes newspaper representations of Mexicans in the Great Depression, finding some of the same dehumanizing language being used today. This rhetoric has real-life consequences, from emboldening racist, anti-immigrant federal policies, to deadly violence against communities of color in places like Charleston and El Paso.

Let’s be clear: Journalists from historically marginalized communities should not be solely responsible for ensuring biases are checked in their respective newsrooms. All journalists should be aware of their biases and have the necessary tools at hand to recognize them in their reporting. There must be an equitable diversity of sources, stories, and staff which centers communities that have been harmed in the past.

3. It’s Good Journalism

What we’ve learned from supporting engaged journalism is that good reporting comes from deep listening. Listening not just to existing audiences, but to communities that haven’t been reached — particularly those that have been underserved by mainstream media.

News outlets must take into account the information needs of all communities, seek genuine input to determine those needs, and take time to develop trust. This investment in time and energy is critical, not only for serving communities more meaningfully, but also for producing the highest quality journalism.

What funders can do today to begin centering equity:

  • Join the Racial Equity in Journalism Fund. This new joint fund supports news outlets led by and serving communities of color. They just announced their first round of grants, and you should see the important work they’re funding.

Over the coming months, we’ll be sharing more resources, approaches and stories about equity in journalism. We invite you to join the conversation — follow us on Medium, or tweet us at @lmariahtrusty and @thedas.

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How MLK50 is serving Memphis amidst COVID-19

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May 5, 2020

I recently chatted with Wendi C. Thomas, founder, editor, and publisher of MLK50: Justice Through Journalism, a Memphis-based nonprofit news outlet focused on economic justice, about how her organization is continuing to serve the community during the current pandemic. Wendi and I have met on the journalism conference circuit, and Democracy Fund proudly supports MLK50 through the Racial Equity in Journalism Fund. Below is a lightly edited recap of our conversation.

LT: For most of the world, we are living in unprecedented times. What is the role of media in a moment like this, specifically community media?

WT: I think journalists already knew we were essential to democracy, but the pandemic has brought into stark relief how essential we are. Readers must be able to count on journalists, particularly those in community outlets, to bring them reliable info — everything from community testing sites to where folks can get free meals.

MLK50 knew early on that we weren’t going to be able to cover breaking news. But what we could do and are doing is making sure we’re bearing witness in this moment to the lived experiences of those who are the most affected. Memphis is the second poorest large city in the nation. More than 40% of workers here make less than $15 an hour. If the national economy is taking a hit, low-income people in Memphis — who are disproportionately people of color here — are being drowned.

While we may not have a large staff or resources to be in PPE covering everything in the street, we’re continuing to connect with people and filling the niche we always have, which is serving the most vulnerable communities.

LT: How are you staying connected with your communities, and what are you hearing from them about their information needs?

WT: We’re hearing from workers who are concerned they aren’t getting the PPE they need or worried their employers aren’t being honest. We have a digital canvasser who’s been collecting tips on workplace safety and have gotten dozens and dozens from those efforts.

Oftentimes what people tell us isn’t a clear-cut violation. But there is a lot of fear. People don’t know, and when people don’t know, they assume the worst-case scenario. I’m glad that people turn to us, and we’re trying to stay as responsive as we can with the hopes that this will lead to a story when it’s the right time.

Last week we published one of our first pieces about Memphis-area distribution centers that have had multiple workers — more than 20, according to one employee — who have tested positive for coronavirus. PFS, which ships nonessential items such as Pandora bracelets and Chanel lip glosses, wasn’t providing workers with PPE or doing temperature checks for weeks. PFS has since started offering protective equipment — but gloves, masks and temperature screenings are optional, which is truly incredible.

We’re also currently paying workers $200 for first-person essays. We’ve always paid guest columnists $100 for their essays; we want to honor the value of people’s time by paying them. I thought, this is an easy way to put money in the hands of people who are struggling right now. It’s a very small thing — $200 is not going to solve anyone’s problems — but it’s something. It’s a way for us to be in solidarity with workers at this moment.

LT: What are some operational pivots you’ve made, or wish you could, to meet the changing needs of this moment?

WT: We’ve had to scrimp on a lot because of our size, but there are a few things I wish we could have invested in earlier. For example, when we bought our company cell phone, we bought the cheapest one possible. Now I wish we purchased an easier one to use. We aren’t using a paid Slack plan, which means our archives are limited to 10,000 messages. As we partner with more news outlets, I’m watching that available message archive disappear. Funders are asking, “What’s your expense reduction contingency plan?” But we were already lean.

My managing editor has the Adobe Creative Cloud Suite, so our budget doesn’t even reflect all of our actual expenses because we’ve been personally subsidizing them. So, to say to cut what isn’t even counted is tricky.

LT: Has this moment brought anything new to light around equity in media?

WT: Because MLK50 is fiscally sponsored, I’m a contractor rather than an employee. I didn’t take out any loans when I started MLK50. We just did it. Now the fact that I don’t have a business lending relationship with the bank means it’s nearly impossible for me to get any Paycheck Protection Program loans. It’s like I’m being penalized for doing something within my means. It’s a quirk of the system that doesn’t consider the most vulnerable.

MLK50 has always been small and scrappy. We didn’t have much margin for error before, and now we have none. There are four core members of our team, and if any of us were to get sick, I think the site would have to go dark. There aren’t many redundancies built into our structures. It would’ve been nice to have the bandwidth to put those systems in place before this. I think that’s a lesson for founders and funders: That a struggle story isn’t necessarily noble.

There is a tendency for funders to be reluctant to be early adopters. Sometimes, their approach is: “Let’s wait and see how it goes.” But we could’ve built some of these core processes with $40,000 a year ago. I guess it’s also a lesson for me. I’m a journalist by training, so I put my head down to do the journalism. If I could have cloned myself — or better yet, hired a development or operations manager — we could have done more to bolster the organization.

LT: We know COVID-19 has created economic challenges for many industries, including journalism. What do outlets need, especially hyperlocal ones serving historically marginalized communities, to weather this storm and continue serving their audiences?

WT: MLK50 has been really lucky. We’ve gotten support from AJP, and now Borealis, to address bandwidth issues. We’ve gotten funding to hire for at least one position, maybe two. But now I’m wondering if I’ll be able to secure funds for these positions next year. There is also a need for consultants who can support us on things I would’ve done in a normal time. There is a real gap between having the resources and being able to use them because of labor and time-intensive work in between.

One good thing that’s come out of this is a greater interest in collaboration amongst local news outlets. We wrote a story with Commercial Appeal and Memphis Business Journal on hospitals that have had an influx of coronavirus patients. We also published a piece that focused on racial disparity in COVID-19 infection and fatality rates in Shelby County. We had that idea on Wednesday, and we published by Friday afternoon. That was only possible because we shared resources and labor. Collaboration increases our shared capacity at this critical time and builds relationships for the long term.

I think it’s important for small publishers to look for opportunities like that. I also think it’s important for communities to see that kind of solidarity between news outlets.

Journalists are on the front lines of the pandemic every day, bringing us essential information we need to stay safe during COVID-19. They need our support on #GivingTuesdayNow, a global day of giving and unity on May 5 as an emergency response to the need caused by the pandemic. Find a newsroom at NewsForGood.org

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How Buffalo’s Fire is serving American Indian communities in COVID-19

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May 12, 2020

As part of our series of conversations with equity in journalism leaders to see how they are adapting in light of the current pandemic, I recently chatted with Jodi Rave, executive director of the Indigenous Media Freedom Alliance (IMFA), a nonprofit media organization that aims to fill information gaps for American Indian communities in the Great Plains. Democracy Fund proudly supports IMFA’s publishing arm, Buffalo’s Fire through the Racial Equity in Journalism Fund.

In 2018, Democracy Fund published American Indian Media Today, a report authored by Rave that took a deep dive into the history and current state of Native media in the United States. The report describes how press freedom is a key challenge, with tribal governments controlling an estimated 72 percent of tribal newspapers and radio stations. This means that tribal press “largely promote the tribe’s messages rather than serving a watchdog role that holds tribal governments accountable to the community.”

Below is a lightly edited recap of our conversation.

LT: For most of the world, we are living in unprecedented times. What is the role of media in a moment like this, specifically community media?

JR: Media operations across the country are playing a critical role in delivering news to their communities. Local journalists know their communities better than those who parachute into our homelands, and they’re doing important work to help community members navigate this pandemic. The Navajo Times, for example, has done an excellent job in delivering up-to-date news to Navajo citizens, the hardest hit American Indian community in the country.

Local journalists know their communities better than those who parachute into our homelands, and they’re doing important work to help community members navigate this pandemic.

For nearly four years, the president of the United States has criticized the national media. I think this has had a trickle-down effect for all media. It’s a bit more difficult to advocate for press freedom in tribal communities when anyone watching the evening news or reading Twitter hears a continual lambasting of media. That said, a global health pandemic has allowed all media, including community news organizations, to shine.

LT: How are you staying connected with your communities, and what are you hearing from them about their information needs?

JR: We are using Zoom, drones, the phone, and Marco Polo to stay connected with community members. We have two types of media on the Fort Berthold Reservation here in North Dakota. The Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation owns and controls the tribal radio and newspaper. My organization, the Indigenous Media Freedom Alliance and our publishing arm, Buffalo’s Fire, are independent and nonprofit. We have never asked the Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation for money.

In a recent interview, Mandan, Hidatsa and Arikara Nation CEO Scott Satermo told Buffalo’s Fire that the tribe created a COVID-19 Task Force at a time when the state and counties were still slow to react. Like the rest of the country, it’s still difficult for the tribe to test for the virus, but Satermo credited his team for setting up shelters for those who tested positive and want to quarantine away from their family. Satermo said he’s proud of the work that’s been done, but much seems to be lost on tribal citizens who go to the tribe’s Facebook page or the tribal newspaper.

Some have pointed out that the information isn’t always the most up to date, and that the online updates haven’t been consistently published in the tribal newspaper, which is where a lot of people go for their news.

LT: Have you been able to pivot your operations to reflect some of those needs?

JR: In the past, Buffalo’s Fire has printed stories that will never appear in the local tribe-owned newspaper. Through spiritual leaders locally and across Indian Country, we know we have to shift our message beyond the basics of social distancing, where to get tested and making sure we wash our hands. It’s predicted a second-wave of coronavirus will sweep through our lands, locally and nationally. It’s important to hear from our American Indian spiritual leaders at this time, so we are changing course and reaching out to them — from New York to North Dakota — for words of encouragement and enlightenment.

LT: We know COVID-19 has created economic challenges for many industries, including journalism. What do outlets need, especially ones serving historically marginalized communities, to weather this storm and continue serving their audiences?

JR: COVID-19 continues to take a toll on communities across the country. News organizations across the country have reported heavily on hotspots. We have learned that an overwhelming number of those hotspots are in communities of color. The third hardest-hit metro area in the United States to be ravaged by coronavirus is Gallup, N.M., a city bordering the Navajo Reservation, a popular hub close to Navajo Nation tribal headquarters. Independent American Indian media organizations and newsrooms of color need general operating funds to operate at full capacity, because there will be more reporting that needs to be done when the second wave hits.

Independent American Indian media organizations and newsrooms of color need general operating funds to operate at full capacity, because there will be more reporting that needs to be done when the second wave hits.

Our American Indian communities are historically marginalized. We typically experience hardships, such as poor housing, inadequate health care systems, high unemployment and high rates of diseases like diabetes. All these issues make us highly susceptible to testing positive. Our newsrooms should be reporting on these local issues, rather than having to wait for the mainstream press to show up in crisis mode.

Our newsrooms should be reporting on these local issues, rather than having to wait for the mainstream press to show up in crisis mode.

LT: Has this moment brought anything new to light for you around media equity? If so, what?

JR: For me, media equity means we need to do more to support independent tribal media outlets to better serve our rural and urban American Indian communities. I’ve seen COVID-19 news move slowly through tribe-managed filters. Greater independence to gather and track that news for independent media means a lot of work needs to be done to create channels for freedom of information, such as the enactment of independent press ordinances. Right now, only a handful of tribes have free press ordinances.

For me, media equity means we need to do more to support independent tribal media outlets to better serve our rural and urban American Indian communities.

LT: Where is one place that you’re finding inspiration for your work right now?

JR: I am finding inspiration from spiritual leaders of different tribes. They are a grounding force in a time when a lot of social media and mainstream media information on the global pandemic is centered in fear. This is a time to be careful, not fearful. As for media inspiration, I admire the work of the Navajo Times, a newspaper — once controlled by the tribe — that has put up a good fight through the decades to operate independently of the Navajo Nation.

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How Jiquanda Johnson is building Flint Beat from the ground up

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October 1, 2020

As part of our continuing conversations with journalism leaders centering communities of color, I recently chatted with Jiquanda Johnson, the founder, publisher, and executive editor of Flint Beat, a digital news site serving the Flint, MI, community. Johnson, a veteran journalist from the Flint area, launched Flint Beat in 2017 to fill news and information gaps in the community, after community members expressed the many ways in which existing news coverage was not meeting their needs. Democracy Fund proudly supports Flint Beat through the Racial Equity in Journalism Fund.

Below is a lightly edited recap of our conversation.

LT: Tell me about the very beginning of Flint Beat for you.

JJ: I launched the site in 2017, but I owned the domain name for a minute. I didn’t know what I would do with it, but I liked the sound of it and so I saved it for a couple of years. I grew up in Flint, and at the time of launching the site, we were knee deep in the water crisis, and news seemed to be filled strictly with crime and sports. I thought that we needed more, and I understood it as someone from there. We had a meeting at the newsroom I was working for at the time, and they’d made some decisions I just didn’t like. I didn’t like the direction things were going in. So I decided I would start my own newsroom. My last day was a Friday, and the following Monday, I kicked things off.

LT: What were some of the initial stories you saw were missing that you wanted to cover?

JJ: I had a list of maybe 40 ideas that I wrote down when I first started. For example, I remember wanting to do a story on gun violence. In the first year of launching Flint Beat, I brought that idea to Solutions [Journalism Network] and the following year, they gave me money to chase that story. We’re still extending our work there, and we’re probably the only newsroom in the state of Michigan that’s even looking at gun violence as a public health issue and also from a solutions journalism standpoint.

For me, I knew about all the cool stories and cool people, but I also knew about a lot of the issues that were plaguing the city. And when you come from a community that invested in you and made you who you are, you want to do better by them through your work. You want to take deeper dives, do investigative journalism, focus not only on problems but how to fix them too.

When you come from a community that invested in you and made you who you are, you want to do better by them through your work.

Being a Black person in journalism, you know stories that are told are not necessarily the whole story. There are so many stereotypes you deal with in a newsroom. So I want to see more people like me with our own platforms that tell the different parts and perspectives of a story.

LT: What are some ways you’ve brought the community into the work of Flint Beat?

JJ: I launched a youth journalism program that worked with Flint youth, and we had some great partnerships that are on pause now with COVID. When I got ready to look for people who could potentially work for Flint Beat or contribute, I learned that there’s no journalism program here. So how do you create this diverse newsroom that reflects the community that you cover if the talent isn’t there? I started to work with young people, trying to bring more diversity in newsrooms here in Flint and hoping that would spread to other newsrooms in the state.

LT: What were some of the challenges you encountered when you first struck out on your own?

JJ: I’m a Flint girl, so covering the city was nothing. People already knew who I was — I was already covering City Hall, living in Flint with my kids. So that was the easy part. But I didn’t think about the business itself. I started it as a journalist, not a publisher, and I didn’t even quite know what that meant. I invested in a $40 WordPress template that I’d pulled apart and recreated with my vision for the site. But I still covered stories as if I were working for any other newsroom.

I started it as a journalist, not a publisher, and I didn’t even quite know what that meant.

Six months in, my savings were depleted. I realized I needed money to make this thing work, and people were not just going to say, “Oh my gosh, you all are doing great work. Let’s invest in you.” I ended up having to work a full-time job and manage Flint Beat, all while caring for my two kids as a single mom.

It wasn’t until last year that I began identifying roles that weren’t editorial — fundraising, social media, etc. They’re not necessarily reporting, but they are still essential for building sustainability, engaging the community, and making a mission successful. But initially, I was everything to the best that I could be, not knowing much of anything at the time.

LT: That seems like a bit of a double-edged sword. On the one hand, you want to have as much knowledge and resources as possible for a venture like this. But if you take so much of that into account, it might stop you from doing the work in the first place and maybe learning as you go.

JJ: I’m not sure how much a person should have to learn as they go. I know we haven’t figured it all out. But I wish I didn’t have to later learn about the newsroom budget and how it can tell a story so that people might be more willing to invest in you. I wish I knew I could engage people with my brand through something like a newsletter before launching an entire website first. I was putting out so much content that I burned myself out.I wish I’d known the value of my work. I undervalue myself. I still do it. I’ll ask for less than I need in a grant proposal hoping funders will be more likely to invest in us. This is the first year I’ve gotten a salary, and it’s a very modest one.

I wish I’d known the value of my work.

It’s those things I wish I would’ve known beforehand. I didn’t mind learning that my audience prefers us covering City Hall instead of the school board. But I wish I had a publishing angel on my shoulder saying, “No, ask for $250,000 because that’s what you actually need for the next two years.”

LT: How are you thinking about sustainability now?

JJ: With the funding from Borealis, I’ve started to fill key roles within the newsroom to help make things more sustainable. There’s our newsletter. I kept trying to do it myself, and one day I thought, “I’m not good at this.” We hired Detour Detroit to handle it, and now our newsletter is generating donations and responses from readers saying how much they love it.We hired a community and business liaison. We hired a managing editor so I can focus on growing our brand and generating revenue. I am still part of the news conversation.And if there’s something that really interests me, I’ll cover it as long as I’m not stepping on my team’s toes. But my managing editor acts as my supervisor whenever I write, so I can be fully in the role of journalist for those times.Identifying these other roles has been so important. Now that that’s squared away, we’re asking questions like, “What are our major goals? How are we bringing in revenue?” We’ve been working with News Revenue Hub to figure out a membership model that works for us. And we’re also focusing on a combination of advertising, sponsorships, and grants.

LT: How has having these positions in place been useful, especially during COVID?

JJ: It’s been a blessing and a curse. COVID has positioned us for funding that probably wouldn’t have been there to cover communities like Flint, and it’s also opened the door for new partnerships. We’re partnering with the Center for Public Integrity doing data journalism and FOIA work through the Facebook Journalism Project. We’re able to take that funding and take a deeper dive into COVID, which is something my newsroom wanted to do anyway. We just didn’t have the capacity.

COVID has positioned us for funding that probably wouldn’t have been there to cover communities like Flint.

Then there’s our ad pricing. We have low overhead, low prices, and thousands of people coming to our website that are right in local businesses’ backyard. So if a business is trying to let people know what’s happening as they reopen their doors during COVID, we’re a more affordable option for advertising compared to other local outlets.COVID has been horrible. People have died, businesses have closed, communities are shut down, and we’re not living our normal lives. But I’ve gone from a team of one to six, not including our freelancers. I can pay myself. And we have more people solely focused on Flint than probably any other newsroom.

LT: That’s really inspiring to hear, because we know so many Black-owned businesses have been hit hard economically by COVID. What sort of support do you think Black-owned media needs right now — not just to weather the storm, but actually thrive?

JJ: When I launched Flint Beat, I didn’t have the money, I didn’t have the capital, nor was anybody willing to give it to me. I had to show the work first. I had to struggle through it. I found myself at the welfare office doing this just to feed my children. Another publication, run by a white man, started the same day that I did, and the local foundation gave them six figures without a thought. I can’t even get them to give me $50,000.So, one thing we do need is for people to respect that we know what we’re doing. I know news. I know Flint. I know I can make an impact. My goal was to be the number one news site in the city of Flint, and that’s where I’m heading — faster than anyone thought we would. I deserve to be respected, invested in, like anyone else in this industry. They’re willing to take risks on people that look like them doing half of the work. What’s the difference, other than me being a Black woman?

They’re willing to take risks on people that look like them doing half of the work. What’s the difference, other than me being a Black woman?

I want to see more foundations support us, without having to go through a third party to tell us what we need. Why does money have to stop somewhere else first before it gets to us? With Borealis and Facebook, I didn’t have to deal with any extra barriers. They knew I could do the work, and they trusted me to do it.When you look at how many Black and brown people are launching news agencies, so many are women. We’re out here trying to save local news. They say they support this…come on, support us.

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Equity First: A Call to Action for Journalism and Journalism Funders

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October 13, 2020

In late September, the LA Times editorial board wrote, “For at least its first 80 years, the Los Angeles Times was an institution deeply rooted in white supremacy.” This editorial was the start of an eight-part series interrogating the Times’ history of racist coverage and its failure to represent the communities it purported to serve in staffing, stories and sources. This deep reflection is a good first step for the paper, and a necessary one for the entire industry. But the next step must be action — from the LA Times, from other newsrooms, and from the journalism funders who support them.

The next step must be action — from the LA Times, from other newsrooms, and from the journalism funders who support them.

One year ago, a group of concerned program officers from foundations across the country (many of whom are former journalists) sat down together in a classroom at the Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at CUNY to talk through not only the racist structures that undergird traditional outlets like the LA Times — but also those that shape philanthropic efforts aiming to transform journalism. We wanted to connect the dots and find opportunities for action. And we did — in a newly released report called, “Equity First: Transforming Journalism and Journalism Philanthropy in a New Civic Age,” created by Frontline Solutions.

The report comes as our nation marks eight months and more than 210,000 deaths from the coronavirus pandemic, which has disproportionately affected Black, Latino and Native American communities, and as the country continues to reckon with the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and George Floyd. Together, these events have sparked a massive racial justice movement in the United States and across the world, and as advocates continue to march, journalists of color are demanding accountability in their newsrooms.

Journalists of color are demanding accountability in their newsrooms.

For years, many of these journalists have felt a dissonance between the kinds of reporting they know communities need, and the false “balance” and harmful narratives white newsroom culture have perpetuated. And now they’re taking action. In June, journalists of color at the Philadelphia Inquirer called in sick and tired in response to a tactless headline that belittled the nature of protests around Black Lives Matter. Staff members called for the resignation of a New York Times opinion editor for publishing an op-ed that suggested invoking the Insurrection Act to snuff out protests following the death of George Floyd. And then union members at the LA Times put together a list of demands for its new owner to transform coverage and staffing.

Many of us are not surprised by what is happening in newsrooms right now. “Equity First: Transforming Journalism and Journalism Philanthropy in a New Civic Age” is rooted in what The Kerner Commission of 1968 found: that the extreme lack of media diversity and equity is a driving force of inequality. As we marked Kerner’s 50 year anniversary in 2018, journalists noted how little progress the field overall has made in centering stories from historically marginalized communities. And philanthropy has persistently underinvested in organizations that are led by and serving these communities.

It’s time to do more. Our new report outlines three longstanding barriers to equity-centered journalism and grantmaking within journalism philanthropy:

1) Journalism’s prized ethics and values aren’t translating to DEI best practices.

Despite journalism’s stated values of accuracy, upholding the truth and elevating unheard stories, there is not enough acknowledgment that it is impossible to live these values in a newsroom whose leadership does not reflect the diversity of the country. The result is newsrooms that are ill-equipped to create resonant and relevant content for their constituents — much less protect them from disinformation actors (such as Russian interference campaigns) that have disproportionately targeted Black audiences. These failures widen the trust gap between communities of color and newsrooms.

2) The inherent cultures of journalism and philanthropy commonly reinforce white masculine norms.

Journalism tends to reinforce the myth of objectivity without considering who gets to decide whose narrative is grounded in reality…meaning that the white, male perspective is the default. Adding to the problem, journalism prioritizes urgency over taking the time to be inclusive, thoughtful or nuanced. And it upholds the paternalistic idea that newsrooms should decide what communities should know rather than practicing deeper engagement and relationship building.

Decision-making within philanthropy has similar flaws. It can occur in a vacuum and in ways that can be paternalistic and lack nuance. This is especially true when funders deploy rapid response funds — as many did during the early part of the pandemic — without taking time to diversify potential recipients and challenge our existing networks. Funders also tend to assume that resources are fairly allocated without critically examining structural inequities around accessing capital.

3) Foundations focus on addressing diversity because it feels most tangible. But what about inclusion and equity?

A diverse staff does not automatically make for an equitable workplace. To get there, power and decision-making authority have to shift. This work requires inclusion, and prioritization, of communities who have not had a seat at the table. Because both journalism and philanthropy have hierarchical structures that makes this kind of shift difficult, they tend to preserve power where it already is.

These challenges are complex, longstanding, and at the core of both philanthropy and journalism. But they are not insurmountable. The report highlights several steps that funders can take to change their internal structures and practices in order to address inequity, which will help make the news that we support more equitable as well. Our recommendations include:

  1. Center equity in our definitions and funding of innovation;
  2. Invest in leadership and emerging talent within communities of color;
  3. Map and then move decision-making power to affected communities.

This past year has tested the spirit, health, and lives of communities of color, especially Black communities. But we know this fight for justice has endured for centuries. Early data suggests a long-needed shift in dollars is underway: Over $4.2 billion philanthropic dollars have gone to racial equity in 2020, compared to $3.3 billion dollars between 2011–2019. That’s 22 percent more funding this year than in the past nine years combined.

The question now is, “can philanthropy and journalism sustain this change?”. These investments must be matched by new systems, practices, and thinking. They must be sustained, not sporadic. They must put communities directly affected at the center of decision-making rather than an afterthought. And they must trust that these communities have solutions to the problems they face, because they have been working to solve them for as long as they have existed.

This is the only way philanthropy and journalism can invest in communities of color if we hope to be a part of the solution.

Liz Baker
Senior Manager, Independent Journalism and Media, Humanity United

Lolly Bowean
Media and Storytelling Program Officer, Field Foundation

LaSharah S. Bunting
Director of Journalism, Knight Foundation

Paul Cheung
Director of Journalism and Technology Innovation, Knight Foundation

Farai Chideya
Program Officer, Creativity and Free Expression, Ford Foundation

Jenny Choi
Director of Equity Initiatives, Craig Newmark Graduate School of Journalism at CUNY

Angelica Das
Senior Program Associate, Public Square, Democracy Fund

Tim Isgitt
Managing Director, Humanity United

Manami Kano
Philanthropy Consultant, Kano Consulting

Maria Kisumbi
Senior Advisor, Policy and Government Relations, Humanity United

Lauren Pabst
Senior Program Officer, Journalism and Media, MacArthur Foundation

Tracie Powell
Program Officer, Racial Equity in Journalism Fund, Borealis Philanthropy

Karen Rundlet
Director of Journalism, Knight Foundation

Roxann Stafford
Managing Director, The Knight-Lenfest Local News Transformation Fund

Lea Trusty
Program Associate, Public Square, Democracy Fund

Paul Waters
Associate Director, Public Square, Democracy Fund

This letter was updated with new signatories on October 19.

Blog

How La Noticia is meeting readers where they are during COVID-19

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November 18, 2020

As part of our series of conversations with journalism leaders serving communities of color, I spoke with Alvaro Gurdián, Vice President of Operations at La Noticia, on how they’re adapting to COVID-19. La Noticia is a for-profit, print and digital news outlet that has served the Latino community in North Carolina for over 23 years. Alvaro and I met on the journalism conference circuit last year, and Democracy Fund proudly supports La Noticia through the Racial Equity in Journalism Fund.

Below is a lightly edited recap of our conversation.

LT: We’re now several months into COVID-19, and La Noticia has been serving communities across North Carolina since the start. What has this moment brought to light for you around the role of community media during crises?

AG: It’s only highlighted how important it is. We have readers who tell us, “I don’t know where to find food,” or “I don’t know where to find masks.” And really, that’s what we’re doing on the day-to-day. We’ll take one question and assume that if one person asks, there are probably dozens or hundreds of readers that have the same question. So we try to build content around that.

We know it resonates because we have people writing to us privately, saying, “Wow, thank you,” at a volume that we didn’t have before for things someone might consider very basic. So people are really taking to heart the value of this work. And that’s uplifting, because we’re obviously working far more hours than we were before.

LT: It’s really great that y’all have been able to continue to do this work and that folks are seeing its value. Are there any common themes coming from your readers right now?

AG: I don’t think the needs have changed that much, they’re just more pressing. Where we are, in North Carolina, Latinos have been disproportionately affected by COVID-19. So they need help. For example, the North Carolina Restaurants Association had set up a fund to help people in the industry. But there was so much need, it closed within 24 hours. So what’s the next wave? Where else can we get help?

These things are changing so fast, and social media is a firehose. It’s great if you find what you need in the moment, but how do you search for it later on? That’s been a bit of a disconnect for us. So we’ve been putting more resources on our website, newsletters, and social media so people know where to reach this information again when they need it.

LT: How else are you staying connected with readers?

AG: Believe it or not, we’ve been reaching them through print. Our advertising may have gone down, but our take-up rate has only increased. Think about it: Even if you live in a metro area, not everybody has broadband at home. Many of our readers are used to getting their Internet from work, school, church, wherever they shop. Most of those are gone completely, so they need the newspaper now more than ever. Or they have basic plans where they’ll have social media but not actual Internet. They’ll get headlines, but they don’t have the details. So our print has become much more important than before, and we know it is still a core part of our mission to inform our community through print.

Many of our readers are used to getting their Internet from work, school, church, wherever they shop. Most of those are gone completely, so they need the newspaper now more than ever.

LT: How are you balancing that tension between the continued need for print and drop in ad revenue?

AG: We try to view it all as a whole. We’re for-profit, but as long as we’re not burning cash, we’re willing to stretch a little here and make it up somewhere else. For example, events are usually big for us, but those are obviously not a thing for us right now. I think that’s a serious conversation we need to have with funders. We have readers who are disadvantaged, and it’s not enough to say, “Alright, let’s put it online.” Data plans cost money. And that’s assuming that everyone has phones and knows how to operate them. There are a lot of barriers that people don’t consider from the 40,000 foot view. So that’s part of why we’re continuing to reach out through print. Of course, our digital has gone up, but not enough to make up for the print.

LT: Keeping some of those challenges in mind, what do outlets need to do to continue serving their communities, particularly those that have been historically marginalized?

AG: Most of these outlets already know what they need to be doing. Sometimes it’s less of the “what” and more of the “how.” That could mean coaching or getting up to date on workflow automation. As I get further into this, I’m amazed at how much we were missing. We’re using new data software that does 90% of the work of posting new articles. It saves maybe five minutes, but when you have to do several stories a day, that counts.

I also think funders could focus more on bringing communities up to speed on digital — not only connecting them to the tools and technology, but training them on how to use it. People tell us, “I didn’t know I could save that story for later,” or “I don’t know how to search it for later.” I think that often goes unnoticed.

I also think funders could focus more on bringing communities up to speed on digital — not only connecting them to the tools and technology, but training them on how to use it.

LT: How do you see that as a part of media equity?

AG: Well, it’s not enough to simply put out information, whether it’s funded or not. People need to be able to access it and know how to access it. We’ll get comments saying, “I didn’t know how to get to that information,” or, “I called the number you told me but they weren’t picking up.” There are a lot of these resources we’re trying to connect them to, but they’re not always user-friendly — especially government ones. We try to condense that information, but when we refer back to them, it’s easy to get lost.

LT: As a final question, I was wondering what are some pivots you’ve made, or wish you could, to continue meeting those needs?

AG: We were already pivoting to digital, improving our website, adding a membership model. We just had to do it a lot faster than we thought we were going to be doing. Eighty-five percent of our [digital] readership is mobile, so those updates were critical. So we did that, and we launched the membership right away.

Moments like this show that if you [have the resources to] get started on this earlier, the better it is. It just so happens that we embarked on most of the things that we needed to do already. It just meant that we needed to speed up a lot of things we had already planned. We did have a plan in place, we just didn’t plan to have it in place so quickly.

Blog

Why we’re urging funders to support AAPI women’s leadership in journalism now

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March 19, 2021

This week’s tragedy could have been avoided. For months, AAPI women in journalism have been sounding the alarm on the dramatic rise in racist and xenophobic attacks. Unfortunately, their calls were not only largely ignored by the public and policy makers, they were also minimized within their own news outlets. This historic silencing of the AAPI community, and AAPI women especially, must end.

This is why we are committed to supporting AAPI women’s leadership in journalism. AAPI journalists and media leaders have shown incredible dedication to bringing nuancedinclusive and community-based reporting to their audiences over the last year, while risking physical, mental and emotional harm.

This week, they carried the tremendous burden of providing responsible coverage, while fearing for their own safety. They have gone to work while grieving not only the loss of life from the Atlanta attacks, but the ongoing disproportionately high rates of COVID-19 cases and fatalities affecting the AAPI community.

The work of AAPI women journalists — spanning decades and even centuries — has continuously centered AAPI communities’ experiences, perspectives and information needs. They have pushed the entire journalism industry forward by demonstrating how to center and serve those who have been historically excluded by the media. This is why we’re urging our fellow funders to join us in supporting these leaders.

The work of AAPI women journalists… has continuously centered AAPI communities’ experiences, perspectives and information needs. They have pushed the entire journalism industry forward by demonstrating how to center and serve those who have been historically excluded by the media.

At the core of much of our work in growing trusted and equitable journalism is the leadership of AAPI women. Here are just a few of the groups at the helm of this work:

  • The Maynard Institute, co-directed by Evelyn Hsu, develops and champions the leadership of journalists of color and drives more diverse and inclusive practices within news outlets across the industry.
  • Open News brings together journalists, editors, developers, and designers to create shared processes and tech within media. Sisi Wei, their Director of Programs, leads initiatives focused on creating a more just and inclusive journalism industry, including Vision25, a new coalition with Maynard Institute and the Online News Association.
  • Solidarity Journalism is an initiative led by Dr. Anita Varma at the Markkula Center for Applied Ethics at Santa Clara University dedicated to improving coverage of historically marginalized communities by centering their experiences and perspectives in reporting.
  • URL Media, co-founded by Mitra Kalita, is a new, decentralized network of Black and Brown news organizations that focuses on content, distribution and other shared resources to build long-term sustainability.

Across our grantees other leaders like Anna Nirmala at the American Journalism Project, Alison Go at Chalkbeat, Anika Anand at LION Publishers, and Christina Shih at the News Revenue Hub are working to align journalism’s business model with more equitable and just coverage of communities.

The media’s historic stereotyping and exclusion of communities of color has done incredible harm. It’s time for a transformation. As funders, we must invest in the leadership of individuals and organizations doing the work to ensure fair and accurate reporting of AAPI communities. We must support their leadership not only in times of crisis — like the events of this week — but throughout our long-term strategies to build more community-driven journalism.

For those wondering where to get started, Asian Americans/Pacific Islanders in Philanthropy (AAPIP) has put together a list of resources, organizations and coalitions that foundations can invest in to support AAPI communities.

Blog

Holding Ourselves Accountable: How Democracy Fund is Supporting Media Equity Now

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June 16, 2021

Last year, we published “Dear Funders: What Does it Mean to Care About Equity in Journalism?” where we outlined three priorities for foundations seeking to support equitable journalism: investing in journalism created for and by people of color; supporting groups that are building a more equitable industry overall; and closing the resource gaps that philanthropy has helped perpetuate.

This piece went up at the start of one of the most tumultuous times in our country’s history: the rise of COVID-19 and marches for racial justice in the wake of George Floyd’s murder. White-centric and led media struggled to tell these stories from the lens of communities of color, while pushing out reporters of color who were

Following this surge, an unprecedented amount of philanthropic dollars went towards racial equity, as many newsrooms began to grapple with their histories of racism. But it’s now one year later and many funders still struggle to center POC-led organizations, while real progress on equity within newsrooms has yet to materialize.

Righting these wrongs will take incredible amounts of time and money from the field of philanthropy. But doing this work gives us energy and brings us joy. We’re investing in the incredible efforts of leaders of color that are shaping the future of journalism, and we hope you’ll join us. 

Here are some of the things we have been doing: 

In 2020, we increased investments to several partner organizations, including an additional $500,000 to the Racial Equity in Journalism Fund to ensure dollars could go directly to POC-led and serving newsrooms and to address the legal needs of journalists of color. We also provided an additional $100,000 to the Center for Community Media at CUNY to help ensure their media partners across the country had access to critical training and resources.

We increased the flexibility of our grant structures, like removing annual audit requirements, providing more mediums for annual reporting, and moving project grants to general operating (excluding grants with fiscal sponsors or agents). And we committed ourselves to using public platforms, as well as industry events like Media Impact Funders, the United Philanthropy Forum, and Council of New Jersey Grantmakers to highlight mediamakers of color and push our peers to increase their support of them.

And our team is continuing this work in 2021. We’ve committed over $1.5 million dollars to grant amendments and renewals to organizations like the Maynard Institute, Emma Bowen Foundation, and the Asian American Journalists Association, all of which support the growth and leadership of journalists of color while holding the journalism industry accountable for more fair and representative coverage. We’ve also renamed our portfolio “Equitable Journalism” to better reflect our funding priorities and guide future strategy. 

We know this is just the beginning. The violent racism that communities of color have experienced during the COVID-19 pandemic is nothing new. Journalism has too often historically contributed to propping up racialized violence and harms, and philanthropy has persistently underinvested in journalism led by and serving POC communities or divested altogether. We don’t want to continue this legacy of harmful funding practices, and we hope you don’t either. We are collaborating more intentionally across our media grantmaking strategies to ensure equity is at the forefront. And Democracy Fund is working to infuse racial equity across the organization, while continuing to examine how our external grantmaking and internal culture uphold white supremacy. 

We’re calling on our peer funders to join this transformative moment, and share their plans and actions so we can all learn from each other. We look forward to sharing more about how we are increasing our investments in organizations led by and serving communities of color, LGBTQ communities, and other historically marginalized groups, and continuing to work on our internal practices and culture to ensure this support is sustained. 

 

Blog

Six Models for Understanding Impact

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September 25, 2018

Let’s face it – it’s a tough time to be in the democracy business. America’s democratic institutions and norms are under pressure from hyperpolarization, disruptive technologies, and foreign interference, to name a few things. And we’re not alone: new and established democracies all over the world are facing what Varieties of Democracy has dubbed the “third wave of autocratization”. So when I tell people that I’m the director of evaluation and learning at an organization dedicated to strengthening American democracy, the response I often get is a slightly raised eyebrow and the question “so…how’s that going for you?”

It’s a question intended to prompt a pithy response, I suppose, but I’m increasingly inclined to answer it honestly, and thoroughly. Because the truth is that while assessing impact in any kind of complex social system is hard, it’s particularly difficult when the problems you’re trying to solve are the really big ones and the headwinds you’re facing are especially strong. In these situations, real, meaningful impact is unpredictable, nonlinear, and often something that can only fully understood retrospectively. It’s no wonder that despite robust evaluation and learning practices, many social change organizations still struggle to understand, in real time, whether the work they’re doing is making a difference.

But I’m increasingly convinced that our challenge is not just in measuring the impact that we’re having – it’s in how we think about what impact looks like in the first place. There’s a particular mental model that most people fall into when we talk about impact: we think about what the system will look like as our program progresses over time, compared to what it would look like over the same period without that program. And we default to the expectation that our programs will lead to greater positive increases in desired outcomes compared to the status quo. The rate of change may be incremental, exponential, or something else, but it’s always positive. Unfortunately, this contributes to a widespread assumption in social change work that a program can only be “impactful” if there are measurable increases in expected outcomes.

I’ve spoken a lot with my colleagues at Democracy Fund, as well as at other Omidyar Group organizations, about what impact looks like for the work that we do. I’ve recalled evaluations that I’ve led and reviewed other evaluation literature. And what I’ve realized is that impact can manifest in many different ways. Consider, for example, a conversation that I had recently with one of our program teams about an initiative that they had continued to pursue, despite a lack of measurable outcomes in the last year or so. “We never expected this program to fix the system,” they said. “But it’s a finger in the dam. If we don’t do this work, things will keep going downhill.” That’s a perfectly valid strategy, and stabilizing a system in decline can be, in and of itself, an important impact.

So, together with other evaluation and learning experts in other Omidyar Group organizations, I’ve been working on a way to communicate the different ways we think our work will achieve impact, whether that’s transforming a system, stabilizing a system, or something else. With their input, I’ve identified six different “models” of impact, each of which reflect a particular type of status quo, and potential trajectory of change.

Six Models of Impact

Chart demonstrating transformative impact

Transformative: This is “impact” the way its most commonly thought of. With transformative impact, we expect a positive change in the system over time compared to the static rate of the counterfactual. The rate of change may be gradual/incremental, exponential, or somewhere in between. For example, we might expect a Get Out the Vote initiative to be transformative, with a positive change on voter turnout over the course of the project.

Chart demonstrating Proactive Impact

Proactive: Some systems may already be moving in a positive direction, but an intervention can help accelerate that change. In this case, the ultimate change in outcomes is the same, but the accelerated pace and steeper rate of change is meaningful. We might facilitate these programs if the impact then allows us to pursue further opportunities that we are otherwise waiting to implement. For example, a public awareness campaign can help shift public attitudes toward a particular issue more quickly than they might otherwise have done.

Chart demonstrating opportunistic impact

Opportunistic: In the opportunistic model, the program lays the groundwork for change, but the outcomes will be entirely constrained by the context. There may be little perceivable difference in the treatment vs. control scenarios until there is a change in the context that creates an opportunity or removes an obstacle to change. If and when that happens, we expect to see a jump in the value of the outcome in the treatment scenarios compared to the counterfactual. The rate of change therefore looks like a “stair step,” with long periods of stasis interrupted by sudden increases. Public advocacy campaigns often follow an opportunistic model, where ongoing advocacy work lays the groundwork for a trigger event that creates a groundswell of public interest and an opportunity for reform.

Chart demonstrating stabilizing impact

Stabilizing: In some situations, we are working to prevent further decline within the system, to disrupt a “vicious cycle,” and/or to hold the system steady until the opportunity arises for positive change. In the stabilizing model, there is no measurable change to the outcome value throughout the course of the program. The program thus appears to have no impact unless you consider the counterfactual and/or the negative historical trendline. We sometimes refer to this as a “finger in the dam” strategy. In this case, the benefit of the program lies in its ability to halt further decline. A civil liberties protection program may follow a stabilizing model: while we may not expect to see substantive expansions of legal protections for marginalized populations, we may be able to maintain the protections that currently exist and ensure their continued enforcement.

Chart demonstrating preventative impact

Preventative: Perhaps the opposite of an opportunistic model, in this model the program lays the groundwork to strengthen the status quo and prevent certain events with the goal of having no change in the outcome. In this model, we recognize that there are vulnerabilities in the system that could lead a seemingly healthy system to accelerate suddenly in a negative direction. Crisis communications work, in which a crisis event could lead to sudden negative shift in public perceptions/behaviors, is an example. This model is similar to the “stabilizing” model, in which the impact is “no change,” but differs in that the catalyzing event that spurs the decline may never actually happen. “Proving” impact in the preventative model is particularly challenging, because the impact in this case is, essentially, that a worse-case scenario did not occur.

Chart demonstrating palliative impact

Palliative: One of the realities of working within a systems context is that, occasionally, systems fail with no recourse. The intervention, in these cases, may be focused on slowing the decline of the system in order to mitigate the effects of the eventual collapse, or to buy time for alternatives to emerge or evolve. The palliative model may appear to show a negative relationship between the intervention and the outcomes – that the program is actually doing harm – unless we consider the counterfactual or the historical trendline. An example of the palliative model might be providing direct financial support to a struggling organization or sector until a new, more sustainable business or service model emerges.

Applying Impact Models in an Evaluation and Learning Practice

Of course, in a systems context, it may be hard to actually prove, empirically, whether a system is following one of these models for a number of reasons. But “impact models” can still be an enormously helpful evaluation and learning tool. They can prompt us to analyze not just the current state of the system, but how that system has evolved over time, and thus calibrate our expectations for how the system might respond to an intervention in the future. They can help us communicate a theory of change more clearly, especially what we think the benefit of a program will actually be. They can help us develop strategies of multiple interventions that work together to strengthen a system. They can also help us make sense of performance data, and place outcome measurements in greater context. Finally, they can help us determine how and when to adapt our strategies, as we move from one model to another or add new models to the mix.

I’m sharing these six models not to propose that any and all programs must follow one of them, but rather to start a conversation about the different ways our work can support positive change in complex systems. If these models resonate for you, or if they don’t, or if you have other models you’ve seen in your work, I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to tweet them to me @lizruedy.

Blog

When the Evidence Isn’t Evident: Why Are Some Kinds of Impact So Hard to Measure?

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August 29, 2019

A few months ago, I proposed that a lot of work in the democracy sector, and social change in general, can be captured in six distinct “impact models.” At Democracy Fund, these models have lent new nuance to a perpetual question: how do we measure the impact of democracy work? We understand that there’s a big difference between impact and no impact, and that we shouldn’t hide behind “impact is hard to measure” to avoid admitting when we’re simply not achieving it. But while I wish there was a methodological silver bullet to measure democratic change, the truth is that it can be hard to measure some impacts using specific evidence within a specific period of time. In other words, for some types of impact, the evidence is less, well, evident.​

Looking back on evaluations that I’ve done, I can think of a number of instances where there was clear, objective evidence of impact from a transformative model: a new law passed, voter turnout increased. But I’ve struggled to find evidence of impact from preventative models: government overreach that was constrained, or civil rights abuses that were prevented.

I think the reason for this is actually pretty simple: what differentiates the impact models from each other also affects how likely they will be to result in “evident” impact – that is, impact that can be measured with specific evidence and in a specified time period. When we decide how to intervene in a system, we make two basic choices. The first is whether we’re looking for short-term or long-term change: does the intervention address specific, emergent threats or opportunities, or are those threats and opportunities more long-term and/or evolving? The second choice is whether the strategy is intended to disrupt the system or to make it more resilient: is the intervention responding to a deficiency or inefficiency in the system that needs to be changed, or is the intervention seeking to protect a system from threats or decline?

These choices also have implications for how “evident” the resulting impact will be. Disruptive interventions are more likely to yield evidence of impact because it’s easier to pinpoint how and why things change than how and why they remain stable. And because they address timebound threats or opportunities, short-term interventions are more likely to yield evidence of impact in a specific timeframe. So it follows that short-term disruptive models would be most likely to yield evident impact, while long-term resilient models would be the least likely, and short-term resilient and long-term disruptive models would fall somewhere in the middle.

In the framework below, I have attempted to map the impact models across these two dimensions (type of change and timeframe). Based on where they are located on the map, I’d offer the following conclusions:

  1. Transformative and proactive models that leverage sudden openings to disrupt systems, are most likely to yield evident impact.
  2. Incremental transformative, palliative and preventative models that focus on long-term resilience of systems are least likely to do so.
  3. Stabilizing and preventative models that defend against threats by focusing on short-term resilience may yield some evident impact, but the full scope of that impact (including threats that were contained or thwarted) may be less evident.
  4. Opportunistic models that invest in long-term disruption to achieve systems change, may produce some evident impact, but that’s dependent on the timeframe for a breakthrough.

I realize that doesn’t really answer the question of how to measure the impact of these models, particularly when the models are on the less evident end of the spectrum. But I think it prompts a different, and perhaps more important, question: if we accept the premise that some models of democracy work can have impact even if that impact isn’t evident, can we still make sound, evidence-based decisions about them?

Navigating complex systems is rife with uncertainty, and collecting relevant and meaningful evidence is part of how we mitigate the risk of that uncertainty. So pursuing an impact model that will leave us flying blind due to a lack of evidence might seem unacceptably risky. For example, if we know that we’re working toward palliative or preventative impact through long-term resilience, how do we mitigate the risk of a “boiling frog” scenario, in which the system’s lack of progress and/or slow decline eventually becomes untenable? And how do we know whether we’re confusing the “strategic patience” required for a long-term, disruptive intervention with a “sunk cost bias” that makes us hold on to a losing proposition? And even if we’re able to observe the impact of a short-term, disruptive intervention, how do we make sure we’re also capturing evidence of unanticipated, negative results?

But if we stick with the “safer” models – those that promise clear evidence of impact in a defined period of time – we may be left with a false sense of certainty about whether we’re pursuing the most effective and relevant solutions, or avoid tackling the thornier, longer-term challenges altogether. So lately I’ve been focused less on “how can we measure the impact of democracy work” and more on “what evidence do we need to be confident in our strategic choices?” Because now more than ever, democracy work requires courage and creativity, and I want to build an evidence-based evaluation and learning practice here at Democracy Fund that recognizes that. Of course there’s a big difference between impact and no impact, and of course we shouldn’t hide behind “impact is hard to measure” to avoid admitting when we’re simply not achieving it. But we also need to acknowledge that there’s a big difference between the easy wins and the risky plays, and we can’t hide behind “the impact will be hard to measure” to avoid tackling the big challenges. Our current political moment demands no less.

Democracy Fund
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