You might not like what you hear in donor research, but you really should listen, says Tod Norman.

Rage and venom seemed to spew out of his mouth. “Stupid! Shameful! I don’t know what’s worse – the stupidity of donors, that of the researchers, or that of those who thought this research was worth doing!”

I was shocked. What had riled my fundraising friend so much?

As part of Lord Hodgson’s review, Ipsos Mori conducted a survey on donor attitudes. It found that donors prefer giving to rattling tins over direct debits at a ratio of about two to one. The online story reporting these findings prompted outrage on the comments section.

There is nothing new here: we’ve heard it all before. True, direct debits and standing order donations are what charities would prefer. And true, most charities will not use these comments to change what they do. But why was my fundraising friend so angry?

Twice in my career I’ve witnessed this level of anger at research results. Once was by a marketer in a utility company responding to dissatisfaction with its service. He was apoplectic at customers’ unreasonable, ungrateful desires. His company no longer exists.

The other was by a banker regarding customers’ views on why it took three days to clear a transfer in but not out. He denounced not only the researchers and the customers but their progeny to the seventh generation. We now own his bank.

But from fundraisers?

Let’s start from the beginning. Common knowledge tells us that regular giving is better than cash donations. We all know it; it’s our shibboleth.

Except of course we don’t, really. We can measure only what we record; and as long as there are anonymous donations we will never know the value of any donor. Unless 100 per cent of income – tins, events, gifts in kind, retail donations and purchases, sponsorship and legacies – can be tracked back to an individual and the complete behaviour of every donor measured, our ‘truth’ is as scientifically valid as feng shui.

Common knowledge, by the way, also told us that regular giving donors were committed – implying other donors weren’t. And if you still believe that, I’ve got a bridge I’d like to sell you. The price? All the legacy income you get from people who were never regular givers.

But forget all that. It’s an argument that won’t be solved until a whole generation of donors have lived and died under the fundraiser’s microscope. It’s not the science that is upsetting; it’s the attitude.

The concept of customer-centricity was born in response to the behaviour of organisations that believed that customers would do what they were told to do because they had no choice. But over the last four decades things have changed. Monopolies have been disaggregated and regulations come in that made it easier for customers to switch – be it bank accounts or brand of beer. And new technologies have driven choice, distribution, and the sharing of information and experience.

As a result new organisations have emerged led by people who believe that the challenge of today is finding a way of profitably meeting customers needs. They don’t start from ‘Any colour they want as long as it’s black’. They go back to basics: ‘What do we want?’ ‘What do consumers want (as indicated by research and behaviour)?’ ‘What solution meets both?’

And then they innovate. They test, amend and test again. Some fail. More succeed. Ultimately, many of the organisations that laughed at their naïveté either follow their lead or are now forgotten.

But that’s just a counter-argument. It doesn’t answer my question: Why did my fundraising friend sneer, snarl and condemn the research?

Years ago we decided that the route to success was to ignore this type of finding and plough ahead with regular giving. We have built charities (and careers) on this belief. So if we now respect and respond to the desire to provide alternatives, is there a suggestion that we’ve been wrong all this time?

Of course this is illogical. Circumstances have changed, so we can’t judge what might have been right then by what might be right tomorrow. But that fear is the force behind the anger. And that is frightening. 

Tod Norman is a communications planner.