Perpetuity and Reality

Q: We are a social services agency and have received a bequest that requires us to fund a program – early childhood education – "in perpetuity" (that's the phrase in the will). My executive director and the board have already accepted the gift, but I have reservations because the money is to be used for one purpose – and one purpose only – forever. I asked what we would do with the money if we someday didn't offer this program and the executive director said that it is probable that we would always offer it, and if we didn't, the donor's wishes wouldn't matter. He did this by reminding me, with a wink, that dead donors can't say much.

A: Although that kind of response is convenient, it's a little too cute for the seriousness of the gift intention, as well as for the potential gravity of the situation. While dead people don't talk, their voices can be heard through the ages. And doing what donors want should be a big consideration – even for those who make their gifts through bequests.

Putting aside the inconsiderate attitude for a moment, the word "perpetuity" has a meaning: "a thing that lasts forever"; "the state or quality of lasting forever." Note the use of the word "forever." Charities cannot promise something forever. It's not humanly or organizationally possible. Not when you think of the world in 1,000 years – or longer (because forever is longer than even that); but that is certainly true when you take into account the reality that not much stays the same for more than only a few years. This is why, when chartering his foundation, Andrew Carnegie said, "Conditions upon the [earth] inevitably change; hence, no wise man will bind Trustees forever to certain paths, causes or institutions." Benjamin Franklin said much the same when he established his historic gifts – 200 years would pass before the corpus would be distributed – to benefit Boston and Philadelphia, and Massachusetts and Pennsylvania: "Considering the accidents to which all human affairs and projects are subject in such a length of time," he wrote, "I have, perhaps, too much flattered myself with a vain fancy that these dispositions, if carried into execution, will be continued without interruption and have the effects proposed." But even if a donor is the one demanding the dead hand's grip, it's imperative that the charity accepting the gift doesn't bind itself past its abilities. No one, as I say, has the ability to promise something forever. With that in mind, I think it's best when gift agreements never use the phrase "in perpetuity." Actually, gift acceptance policies might be wise to use the word "never" when describing when the phrase can be used. (But that point takes us more to a philosophical conundrum than to an ethical dilemma.)

But I also take note of your executive director's attitude. Although more and more states take seriously the idea of a donor's intentions, statutes (of which there are currently almost none) or judicial results (or which there is a growing number) on this subject should matter far less than the trust a donor infers when a charity takes a gift under its wing. Break that trust, especially if it's intentional, and the charity has no business being in business.

While it very well may be that you fully intend to provide early childhood education forever, it would be prudent to accept the gift only after discussing with surviving family members – and obtaining their written agreement about this – a thought-through diversion of the income if it becomes necessary in the future.

Bottom line (in addition to fostering trust through responsible stewardship): Although we don't think of it this way, a lot of ethical decision-making is based on our understanding of what words mean – and what future generations will think was meant back in 2014.