In the January issue of Currents, the magazine of the Council for Advancement and Support of Education, a college public-relations professional tells his story of joining the "Dark Side" -- i.e., the world of development.
Tom Stamp, director of public affairs at Kenyon College, chronicles the 18 months he spent filling in as fund-raising director while his institution searched for a permanent replacement. During his time in the trenches he discovered "the good, the bad, and the frustrating," and although he gained a better appreciation for what we Dark Siders do, he ultimately concluded that it was not for him.
I've been in his shoes, but my toes pointed in the opposite direction. Over the past dozen or so years, I've occasionally managed marketing, communications, and publications. Yes, once or twice I've joined the Jedis.
From that experience I've come to understand why some marketing professionals view development folk with acrimony and resentment. Although Stamp quickly dismisses the "Dark Side" moniker as inappropriate, he nonetheless touches on a common sentiment. Why is it so common? Is it because we in development are "officers" with bigger salaries? Is it because we write grant proposals worth millions, while marketers write press releases announcing dean's list students to hometown newspapers? Is it because we schmooze with the rich and famous, while they go on press checks to look for smudges? Is it because we engage prospects in meaningful conversation at parties, while they snap the photos? Is it because they believe we actually think this way?
Well, we don't, but you'll find a kernel of truth in these silly notions. Put simply, development is the sine qua non of the advancement operation -- all roads lead to bringing in money. And that's the fund raiser's job. Once the money comes in, it's the marketer's job to publicize the fruits of our labors. Few advancement vice presidents (and presidents, for that matter) would deny the primacy of fund raising. After all, most of them rose through the development ranks and still maintain a portfolio of top donors and prospects.
On the other hand, communications professionals could persuasively argue that fund raising is a subset of marketing, and that we development officers are marketers with a narrowly-defined purpose. Kathleen S. Kelly, in her tome Fund Raising and Public Relations: A Critical Analysis, argues that very point. She suggests that development should be considered "a specialization, or branch" of public relations. Fund raising, at base, involves creating and maintaining relationships with external audiences.
That's a fair assessment, and I'm sure many professionals on both sides agree with her. Kelly also reinforces the "Dark Side" theory by uncovering sources of inherent tension between the two camps. She reveals that development officers view their communications counterparts as a mere support mechanism for the fund-raising enterprise. At the same time, she says, marketing professionals think of fund raising as "mysterious," "demeaning," and "shady."
So is development just a subset of marketing? Does public relations exist, on some level, simply to grease the skids for development work? Which function is more important? Does it really matter?
No. What matters is an understanding among all advancement professionals that they need to function as a team, mutually reinforcing one another. A gulf between marketing and development serves no one. Each side has to appreciate that these aren't discrete functions. Fund raisers are indeed public-relations ambassadors, and marketers are, in the broadest sense, fund raisers.
I learned this firsthand while working at a research university. I initially joined the development staff and eventually became the liaison to the communications office. My job was to ensure internal (publications) and external (news media) coverage of development activities and philanthropic gifts. I did this by meeting often with the PR staff and writing stories and press releases.
Despite my efforts, we didn't get much coverage. That's because the communications office was part of the university, a state entity, while the development office was housed in a university-related foundation, a private entity. To people in communications, we weren't necessarily on the same team, and their job was to publicize university news. Only when a gift reached a certain threshold -- I believe it was $1-million -- did it become newsworthy. Less than that, and it was just "foundation" news, and we had to fend for ourselves.
So we did. We established an external-relations function within the foundation, and I led it for some time. The office essentially served as a development communications operation, a common activity located at the intersection of marketing and fund raising. We churned out our own publications and press releases and tried our best to gain coverage for donors of all stripes and gifts of all sizes.
All along, though, I fought to strengthen ties with the university communications office. In time, I did. I can't take all the credit, however, because the catalyst was a capital campaign. As we began to prepare for the campaign -- which is as much a marketing blitz as a fund-raising activity -- we slowly found common ground. They wanted to publicize outstanding students; we raised scholarship money that attracted valedictorians. They wanted to highlight faculty achievements; we brought in endowed chairs. They wanted to showcase campus improvements; we raised money for new buildings and renovations. They wanted to bolster the public perception of the university and gain ground in popular rankings; we convinced them that our efforts would aid that cause. It took a campaign to bring us together, but we forged a strong bond and began to work seamlessly.
I've since returned to front-line development work, but I still consider myself a communications professional as well as a fund raiser. In fact, it's really a specious distinction. I'm an advancement officer, just like my colleagues in the PR office.
For those institutions struggling to find this common ground, to bridge the divide between the Dark Side and the Jedis, I offer the following: To fund raisers, I say remember that marketing does not exist simply to publicize your efforts. Communications professionals face multiple campus groups all competing for their attention. They have many masters and deal with myriad issues, not just those in development. Everyone wants press coverage and stories in the magazine. Be patient; you'll get your turn.
And be sure to defer to their judgment on communications matters. They have a better understanding of what's newsworthy and what's not. Don't promise a donor media coverage for a $5,000 gift to the annual fund and insist on a press release. People in public relations can't guarantee coverage, and you'll make an awkward situation for everyone involved. And for heaven's sake, don't expect the alumni magazine to overflow with stories of philanthropic giving. Everyone knows that readers consistently rank such stories last among their favorite pieces. Find another way to flatter donors.
To marketing professionals, I say bear with us development folk. While you juggle multiple audiences, we essentially cater to one: donors. We want to make them happy, so we often call on you for help. We want nice stories that showcase donors and, perhaps subliminally, encourage others to give. If those make you queasy, can't you at least spare us a few pages in the alumni magazine to list last year's bumper crop of gifts? And please refrain from running stories that shed negative light on the institution, at least while we're gearing up a campaign. We hate apologizing for scandals.
What's more, we ask you to think of yourselves as fund raisers, because that's what you are. Your work affects our ability to make friends, to keep them, and to thank them. That translates into alumni involvement and philanthropic giving. The magazine is a donor cultivation tool -- among other things. Keep that in mind when you're planning stories.
To both parties, I say talk often. Why not have a communications person sit in on development meetings -- to get advance notice of fund-raising activity and offer advice on how such efforts might, or might not, garner media attention or warrant at least internal ink?
At the same time, I can speak firsthand to the value of having a fund raiser at marketing-staff meetings. For instance, I served on the alumni magazine's internal editorial board and was therefore able to suggest relevant development news, where appropriate. Through my involvement I kept everyone in development apprised of campuswide concerns and, in doing so, broadened my colleagues' frequently narrow perspectives.
And, finally, to presidents on campuses where marketing and development report separately to you, I say reconsider your structure. Think about establishing an advancement office under a vice president or director. That person should keep the practitioners of the Dark Side of the Force operating in the same universe with the Jedis, and save your troops from certain rebellion.
