Justice Sonia Sotomayor works the crowd (Photo by Shel Horowitz.

By Shel Horowitz

Justice Sonia Sotomayor works the crowd (Photo by Shel Horowitz.
Justice Sonia Sotomayor works the crowd (Photo by Shel Horowitz.

Yes, you can be a United States Supreme Court Justice and still keep your humanity. In an hour and a half of Q&A at the Springfield Public Forum in Springfield, Massachusetts, Justice Sonia Sotomayor not only kept her content humble and hopeful, but did her best to make herself one with the audience.

She answered the first question from the stage, but then left her comfortable armchair, announced that she wanted to make herself more accessible to the people at the far corners of the room, pleaded with the audience not to do anything that would make the Secret Service agents too nervous to let her wander, and then answered all remaining questions while walking around the room shaking hands and getting photographed—and leaving the moderator (another female judge) gaping and wondering where her speaker was at times. I’ve certainly seen speakers mingle, but I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one who spent virtually the entire speech mingling. It’s especially remarkable in a government official; most of them stay firmly behind their podiums, clinging tightly. I can’t imagine Hillary Clinton doing that. But Sotomayor is like that; she spent her first weeks at the Supreme Court not just boning up on the then-upcoming Citizens United case but also visiting the far corners of the building and greeting the staff. She claims to be the first Supreme Court Justice to visit the telephone operators up on the third floor.

Hillary also probably has help writing her books. Sotomayor–like President Obama–writes her own, even as she acknowledged that writing didn’t come easily to her until a college mentor observed that she was thinking in Spanish (her first language) and translating.

Like Sotomayor, I grew up poor in the Bronx (and actually fantasized about becoming a social justice lawyer and eventually, a Supreme Court Justice—though I love the career I chose instead). And I was thrilled to hear her say things like:

  • “I wanted to write a book that would give people hope…if I [the child of an immigrant alcoholic, raised in the tough housing projects of New York] can do it, so can you.”
  • “Squeeze as much as you can out of every day. Give to others. Don’t take a moment to not live life at its fullest.”
  • “Affirmative Action was a door opener for a door that had been closed to people of my background. Many institutions like to do the same thing over and over. But that success formula excludes certain people. The question is, what did I do with that opportunity? I wanted my career to be a bridge between my community and the wider society.” She noted that others had been given similar opportunity but chose not to make the most of it.
  • “As a prosecutor, I learned how to seek justice not just for society but for the defendant.
  • “Every mentor has made a positive mark on my life, and I hope that I have for them.”
  • “Accept your limitations and your strengths.”

Surprisingly, when asked where in her career she had the most fun, she didn’t hesitate to respond “as a trial judge. Every day, you’re surprised! When I retire from the Supreme Court, I want to go back to it.” She misses the human contact with the plaintiffs and defendants, who are generally not present in appeals or Supreme courtrooms.

When asked why the greatest legal minds in the country have so many split decisions, Sotomayor pointed out that this is part of the Supremes’ mandate. “The case wouldn’t come before the Supreme Court if the answer was clear. We don’t take cases unless there are disagreements in the Circuit Court decisions. That’s why we have 5-4 decisions. It doesn’t mean that the four are wrong, but that the five thought another way. Some people say [the split decisions lessen their faith in government]. I hope the split means you have more faith in the government, because if everything is 9-0, we’re not taking the care we need to. And if there’s a [written] dissent, at least somebody heard you.”

Dissents, for her, are also cause for optimism. “We can write our dissents and hope to influence Congress or a future Supreme Court decision. You have to feel optimistic that things can change. You have to hold that hope, so you can let go” and accept being on the losing side. “I remain optimistic, despite what’s happening in Congress right now.

And she asks each of us to take responsibility, to do our part for a better world, even if it’s as simple as casting a vote or calling a loved one. “Whatever you do, do it with passion and caring. Not voting is the greatest act of being a traitor. What counts is caring enough to make your voice heard. Every day, I try to become a better person, a better Justice. How many of us forget to call a friend who’s sick or suffered a loss? Every day I try to remind myself that the world doesn’t revolve around me. Every night before you go to sleep, ask yourself these two questions:

  • What have I learned that’s new today?
  • What good have I done today?

“If you can’t answer those two questions, don’t go to sleep. Send someone a [‘thinking-of-you’] email. Go on Google and learn about something.

Known as a Justice who asks a lot of questions during oral argument, Sotomayor was asked if she often changed her mind based on the lawyers’ responses to the Justices’ questions.  And she said that she changes her thinking based on the oral argument, though not necessarily her vote, about 20 percent of the time. To future lawyers in the largely student audience, she advised, “Be happy when we ask questions. We engage you in engaging us.” But she said often, the real benefit to her in oral arguments is from listening to the questions of her colleagues. “I see what road they’re going down, what they’re thinking.” The Justices don’t discuss cases before oral arguments, so these are the first insights she gets about a case’s direction.

In the past, the Court was a very contentious place, with some Justices not speaking to each other for years. That changed, she said, when Sandra Day O’Connor (the first woman Justice, appointed by President Reagan) came onboard. She insisted on building collegial relationships, through instituting several changes including a weekly lunch. “She made a huge difference. There’s an ethos now that if someone says something they shouldn’t have, they call and apologize.”

She chose law, she said, because “I wanted to guide people into making decisions that were fair to themselves and to other people.” It was a way to help people solve problems, and it did not require singing, dancing, or drawing, didn’t require the patience of a teacher, and did not involve medicine; as a diabetic since age 7, she felt she’d spent far too much time in hospitals to want to work in one. When the moderator shot back that Sotomayor was the best salsa dancer she knew, the 61-year-old Justice said she’d taken lessons at 50, when she got tired of being the only Latina she knew who didn’t dance. She asked her mother why she’d never been taught to dance as a child, and her mom replied, “You were always outside chasing fireflies. We could never get you to be still long enough.”

Her final advice was to remember the people who helped you and to overcome your fears. “Every job I’ve had, every obstacle I’ve overcome, I’ve been afraid. None of us gets anywhere in life without the help of others. Nobody accomplishes alone. We are each of us blessed with the good and the bad I hope each of you can appreciate the blessings in your world.”

Note: material in quote marks and not in brackets are as accurate as my notes, memories, and ability to decipher my scrunched handwriting allow (I had no paper so I was writing on the backs of business cards). I apologize for any transcription errors I may have made. Material within square brackets is paraphrased.

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Peace, in many languages
Peace, in many languages

I do not use “killing it” or “crushing it” to mean “successful.” Successful does not have to be about dominance and submission, winners and losers. I believe in an abundant, win-win world where we have the power to turn hunger and poverty into sufficiency, war into peace, and catastrophic climate change into planetary balance—while making a nice profit. The words we choose help determine where we (individually and as a society) are going, and how we get there.

In fact, I set up a whole new website, https://goingbeyondsustainability.com, to bring this message home. Somehow, I don’t think it would have the right tone if I had called this website “killingitforsustainability.com”.

Language matters. A lot. I just told a client yesterday to remove the word “dumb” from her vocabulary; she’s building a brand around smart, sexy, socially conscious blondes, and the “dumb blonde” stereotype is the exact opposite of that.

I don’t use the term, “senior moment.” I see elders as more often wise than confused. I’m 58 and I expect to be doing good work for the rest of my life, whether that turns out to be another 50 years, or whether my time turns out to be much more limited. I avoid gender-specific language; it’s almost always possible to find a gender-inclusive way to say something. “Firefighter” rather than “fireman,” “chair” (or the more cumbersome “chairperson”) instead of “chairman.” Since “s/he” or “co” or any other quick substitute for “he or she” hasn’t become common language, I do say “he or she” or “his and her.” Even though it’s clunky, it is less clunky to my eyes and ears than switching gender every paragraph.

Yes, I know that the word “niggardly” (meaning stingy) has nothing to do entomologically with a certain slur-word directed at black people. The root is different. But because the sounds of the words are so close, I would never use it. I don’t want to reinforce any association with the n-word. I’m also careful about words like “savages” or “primitive” or “cripple.” And I even avoid “sucks,” which was introduced as a slur against gay men. So many words are so loaded up with negative baggage that it’s a whole lot easier just not to use them.

Marketers should pay attention, too. Chevrolet made a huge mistake decades ago when it tried to introduce its popular Nova line into Latin America. Nobody bothered to check what that name meant locally. Oddly enough, it turned out that the locals weren’t exactly breaking down the doors to buy a car whose name is Spanish for “it doesn’t go.”

There is one military metaphor that doesn’t bother me at all, however. I use the word “target” to describe a tightly defined market niche. I like the precision of that. And because I’m a Guerrilla Marketing co-author, I use the phrase “guerrilla marketing.” But if I had been naming the brand, I’d have chosen something less grounded in war (and maybe easier to spell).

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Independent-owned boats like these on the Spanish Costa Brava could be forced out by Big Fish. Photo by Shel Horowitz

Independent-owned boats like these on the Spanish Costa Brava could be forced out by Big Fish. Photo by Shel Horowitz
Independent-owned boats like these on the Spanish Costa Brava could be forced out by Big Fishing. Photo by Shel Horowitz
As a vegetarian for the past 42 years, I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about fish. But I went to a talk, “Food Grabs vs. Climate Justice: How capitalists and climate deniers are locking up access to land and sea, and how Food Sovereignty movements are creating real climate solutions,” part of the Center for Popular Economics’ annual summer institute in Western Massachusetts.

Moderated by Sara Mersha (Grassroots International), panelists included Michele Mesmain (Slow Food International), Betsy Garrold (Food for Maine’s Future), and Seth Macinko (Department of Marine Affairs, University of Rhode Island). Both Macinko and Mesmain focused on fish and fisheries.

Both experts agreed on the need to control overfishing–and both said there’s a better way than the current widely embraced privitization “solution”: taking the public resource of the sea held in common, and giving it, for free and in perpetuity, to large corporations who are already catching the most fish. These corporations then can lease fishing rights back to the local fisherfolks, who used to be able to fish them for free–or simply force them out of business.

Macinko said you can manage a resource to prevent overfishing without savaging the historic commons rights, and noted the unholy alliance of environmental groups (including Environmental Defense Fund), academics, corporate-oriented major foundations such as Pew, government and trans-government authorities including the World Bank, the Big Fishing lobby, and, lo and behold, the Koch Brothers’ foundation pushing for this rights grab. Then Mesmain showed three models of successful fisheries management without privitization: a 1000-year-old guild governing France’s Mediterranean coast, a much more recent initiative in the Basque region of Spain–both involving open-sea fisheries, and one through the Okanagan Nations Alliance (8 nations/tribes in Washington State and British Columbia) covering inland river salmon fisheries.

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I’m up to the part of Naomi Klein?‘s This Changes Everything where she talks about the interconnectedness of geolocalized people’s movements opposing “extreme/reckless resource extraction” (e.g., tar-sands oil, fracked gas and oil, mountaintop removal for coal). She dubs the movement “Blockadia.” She also casts very appropriate darts, just before this section, at the crazy idea that we should avoid climate catastrophe by throwing so much pollution into the sky that the sun can’t get through. Talk about a cure worse than the disease! Hard to believe some scientists are actually serious about this.

She points out that these technologies are far more intrusive and polluting and resource-intensive than the old-style mines and wells—and that the opposition often parses out as saving our water from destruction, modeling around the Precautionary Principle of not unleashing technologies we can’t control, and using the positive framing of protecting our water (very similar to the way I framed Save the Mountain 15 years ago—the successful movement to keep a nasty housing development off the Mount Holyoke Range in my town of Hadley, Massachusetts, US). I have said for many years that we have plenty of substitutes for oil, but if the water is gone (or unusable), so are we.

Like everything I’ve ever read by Klein, the book is impeccably researched—including interviewing primary sources directly and even suffering through climate-denier conferences and similar events in person; pursuit of the truth can be painful, sometimes.

And she isn’t afraid to go after the movement’s sacred cows. She scolds some very prominent environmental groups including The Nature Conservancy for betraying their core mission in the service of their large extraction-industry funders—even putting an oil well into one of its nature preserves, where the bird it was set up to protect can no longer be found. And she finds Sir Richard Branson’s proclamations of concern for the planet to be at odds with his actions. (I’m hoping she’s wrong about him. Even if she turns out to be right—and she might well be—he has certainly used his considerable charisma to educate the public on climate change.)

Environmentalists need to take these accusations very seriously. We need to know who we fund, and what they do with the money. And we definitely need to build the movement that insists upon meaningful action to stave off catastrophic climate change—which would have been much easier 20 or 30 years ago, but, I believe, is still possible now.

However, I break with Klein over solutions. She has essentially no faith in the business community or in technology, and she seems to think that any time an environmental group partners with a polluter, that group is sullied. Maybe I’m less of a purist than she is. But I’ve just finished another wonderful book, The Necessary Revolution, by Peter Senge et al. Reading the two together was very interesting, because Senge’s book is full of great examples of NGOs and corporations working together to tackle problems in a very meaningful way, while Klein’s is the counterpoint of these partnerships leading to a failure to address the deeper issues.

I also read almost daily reports in the sustainability press (GreenBiz, Sustainable Brands, Triple Pundit, 3BL Media, Rocky Mountain Institute’s Solutions Journal, and Guardian Sustainable Business, to name a few) of the amazing small-scale, eco-friendly technology innovations that give me hope. And I’m painfully aware that we knew all the way back in 1983-84 how to build a beautiful, modern, net-zero-energy home even in extreme environments, and that our failure to make this the norm is inexcusable.

Technology doesn’t have to be about extreme extraction, GMOs designed to absorb more pesticides, nuclear power, or blocking the sun. Science and engineering can actually be the climate movement’s friends. Unlike the crazy unproven schemes requiring billions or trillions of dollars and dozens of years to ramp up, these innovations often combine deep conservation, greater efficiency in harnessing clean renewable energy, and even the fascinating science of biomimcry to slash energy use, carbon footprint, and waste—right now.

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Like many environmentalists, I have serious issues with fracking: injecting a highly pressurized toxic sew of chemicals and water into shale rock, to blow it apart and release the gas trapped inside. This technology has spread widely in the last 15 years or so, and has been a lot of why fossil fuel prices have actually fallen.

In my mind, the big problem was always the risk to our water. We can live without oil, gas, coal and nuclear; there are plenty of alternatives. But we can’t live without clean, usable water, and fracking puts that at risk. There also seems to be a correlation between fracking and earthquakes, which should make anyone a bit nervous.

Now comes a new report that makes me further question the “wisdom” of fracking. Apparently, the gas is going to run out anyway. According to this article posted on the World Economic Forum website, the US, Norway, and Poland are among the countries where the much-ballyhooed potential for shale gas has turned out to be not so sweet and rosy after all. Norway dropped its estimate from 83 trillion cubic feet in 2011 all the way down to zero two years later. Poland reduced its estimate by 80%. And a new University of Texas study has the US shale boom pretty much ending in just five years.

So why are we investing billions of dollars in infrastructure and putting our water at risk? Why not use that money to push our economy further toward renewables like solar, wind, and small hydro? Why not retrofit every building with deep-conservation insulation, thus reducing the demand?

No wonder people around the country and around the world–including my own area of Western Massachusetts, where a proposal to pipe fracked gas has encountered fierce opposition despite gas company dirty tricks that extend to imposing a moratorium on new gas connections

Ask your utility company these sorts of questions. It’s your right to know.

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In his daily blog, Seth Godin wrote today,

The last hundred years have also seen a similar ratchet (amplified, I’d argue, by the technology of media and of the economy) in civil rights. It’s unlikely (with the exception of despotic edicts) that women will ever lose the vote, that discrimination on race will return to apartheid-like levels, that marriage will return to being an exclusionary practice… once a social justice is embraced by a culture, it’s rarely abandoned.

Unfortunately, those “despotic edicts” are all-too-common. While the general trend is not to reverse progress, there are far too many exceptions:

And, sadly, dozens more examples from around the world.

If you think “it can’t happen here,” do some research on Berlin in the 1920s–or read Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale). Or look at the scary anti-Arab and anti-Muslim acts of violence that started showing up regularly in the US starting in the aftermath of 9/11/01 and are still escalating.

Although this is a pessimistic post, I am ultimately an optimist. I think Godin is basically right–but there are many, many exceptions. Let’s work together for a world in which those exceptions are no longer tolerated–we can do this!

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Guest Post By Yosef Rabinowitz, Managing Director, TBRC Cost Recovery

Yosef Rabinowitz, founder of TBRC Cost Recovery
Yosef Rabinowitz, founder of TBRC Cost Recovery

Back in 2003, I signed up a small business for telephone and internet service through one of the carriers that we represent at TBRC. After a few years of the client being on the service, I received a call out of the blue from a telephone bill auditor whom the client had hired to examine their monthly bill to see if there was any money to recover for past billing errors or if there was any way to save money going forward. The client wanted me to assist the auditor in his search.

In that instant, given that I had what I thought was an excellent relationship with my client, I felt blindsided and quite upset by the fact that he didn’t call me first (especially since we also do phone bill audits). My reaction internally was “Well that’s gratitude for you! After all the lengths we’ve gone each year in order to make sure that they’re getting great service at a great price? No WAY am I going to help them out with this audit.”

After about 30 seconds of (silent) childish brooding, though, my ego gave way to reason, and I did the right thing by guiding the auditor through the various charges on the client’s bill (he had never seen a bill from this particular carrier before).

That evening, as I went to bed, I had a bit of crisis of conscience. Even though I did assist the auditor, how could I have even THOUGHT to not help him, even if he’s a competitor and encroaching on my “turf”, so to speak (or so I felt in the moment when he called)? That’s not ME! That’s not who I am! I wrestled with this issue for several days (mostly in a state of quiet shame) before a friend pointed out a very basic concept of life:

We’re all human, and in the eyes of the law and common decency (and God, for those who believe), we humans are ultimately judged by our actions, not by our thoughts. So while I may have been upset at myself for even considering doing the wrong thing, I ultimately did what was right for my client (and my conscience) in the face of initially strong feelings to the contrary. I saw his point and felt a lot better after that.

Fans of the original Star Trek® series will recall the episode where Capt. Kirk comes through the transporter and is split into two beings…his good side and his evil side. The “evil” Kirk wreaked havoc on the ship with his impulsive behavior. However, the other Capt. Kirk, with only his good side and no access to his ego/evil side, couldn’t make any decisions. He NEEDED the “evil” side for that. And so do we. The bottom line is that life is going to throw “situations” at us from time to time. It’s OK (even natural) for ego to kick in at the beginning and make us WANT to lash out and do the wrong thing (it’s there to alert us that a need of ours isn’t being properly met), as long as we eventually keep ego in check so that we can move in the right direction.

Epilogue: Helping the auditor (rather than impeding his audit) worked out well in the end. Afterwards, he introduced me to the other 40+ telecom auditors in his company and a number of them have since referred clients to us for carrier services.

Yosef Rabinowitz is the Founder and Managing Director of TBRC Cost Recovery, LLC, a New York City-based consulting firm that examines business and nonprofit telecommunications bills for past billing errors and future savings opportunities. This article originally appeared in the June 2015 issue Off The Hook, TBRC’s monthly newsletter.

 

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Pattern from a Japanese kimono
Pattern from a Japanese kimono
A group of Japanese-American protestors has embarrassed Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts into pulling the plug on the opportunity to stand in front of a Monet painting of his wife in a red kimono, wearing a similar red kimono.

As someone whose stepfather is Japanese, and who had to pose with my wife, my sister and her husband in the authentic yukatas (they’re like kimonos, but less formal and lighter weight) and obis (ceremonial belts) he gave us for some event–and as someone who has certainly seen my own Jewish heritage symbols appropriated and/or misused by mainstream culture–I can relate on some level her perspective.

But I also feel it’s crucial that we learn about the wider world around us, and that e.g. eating Thai food doesn’t mean you understand Thai culture. I think the experience of wearing the very elegant but very restrictive formal Japanese outfit with kimono and obi can provide a little window into what it was like to be upper-class female in 19th-century Japan. It saddens me that those teachable moments were lost in this.

I also do have concerns about how many other opportunities to touch another culture have been taken from us in the name of political correctness. A few years ago, a local high school even canceled a production of West Side Story because they were accused of racism–missing the entire point. Ditto the campaigns to purge high school classrooms of Mark Twain’s anti-racism classic Huckleberry Finn because it used the n-word, even though Twain’s purpose was to use that epithet (which, in his time, was probably the most common word to describe blacks) to build a bridge between the black and white cultures of 19th-century southern Illinois, right next to slave-owning Missouri.

To me, the correct response would have been for the museum to meet with the protestors and ask for their input in recasting the exhibit so it enlarged the educational aspect in a way that the Japanese-American protestors found appropriate–and for the protestors to have made that, rather than ceasing the exhibit, as their demand. Instead, it’s all this shouting at each other instead of talking to each other. Yes, you protest, but then you collaborate and build a greater whole.

Of course, an even more appropriate way to handle it would have been to involve local Japanese-American organizations in the planning and curation to begin with.

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Phone (picture)
Dialing for dollars doesn’t always work. But dialing to convey important information does.

Most of the time, robocalls are used all wrong

I once wrote, “If you are trying to sell me something, or if you want my vote, I want contact with a human being who can answer my questions.” Yet I get robocalls all the time from clueless “marketers” who don’t understand this simple truth, or can’t be bothered with it. Worse, a lot of these calls are hangups, and far too many show up in the middle of the night. Would it be so difficult to program a function that blocks each area code between 9 p.m. and 9 a.m, local time? It won’t help cell-phone travelers but it will help a lot of home-based entrepreneurs who don’t always remember to turn the bedroom ringer off at night.

I have one message for these cretins:

–> Stop spamming me. I don’t buy from spammers.

I’ve spent years preaching the gospel of client-centered marketing. Marketing should be driven by the customer. You want to be found when the prospect is searching for great content about what you do. You want to be ready when that client calls or emails. But you don’t want to be spamming the prospect with canned, inflexible messages. It doesn’t work in social media, it doesn’t work in e-mail, and it doesn’t work on the phone.

But that doesn’t mean the technology should be tossed out. There are times I actually welcome a robocall, and other times when I tolerate them:

These robocalls are welcome:

  • From a school where I have a child enrolled, or the one where my wife works, announcing a closing or delay
  • From my town or state government, warning of a road closing, water service issue, etc., or giving polling hours for an election
  • From my utility company, updating me on a storm-related outage
  • From one of my credit card-issuing banks, flagging potentially fraudulent activity and offering to connect me with a human being if there is an issue

And these I’ll grit my teeth and tolerate:

  • A healthcare provider confirming an appointment
  • A business that I regularly patronize, announcing a special time-limited offer and giving me a reason why it can’t wait for me to check my e-mail
  • A reminder that an online or in-person event I’ve signed up—and especially one that I’ve paid for—is about to start

Notice a pattern? What do all of these have in common? I’ll skip a couple of lines so you can take a guess before I tell you.

Figure it out yet?

 

 

Here it is:

These are organizations with whom I have an existing relationship, using the tool to convey crucial information. They are not interrupting my day—or worse, my sleep—to sell me something. They are not horning on on me and forcing a relationship where none exists. The ones I welcome are telling me something I need to know; the ones I tolerate at least tell something they need me to know on the basis of our past interaction.

And that should be your guideline in using any intrusive marketing (or informational) method.

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Spanish-language fundrasiing letter
Seven reasons why this letter failed to raise money from me

What’s wrong with this picture? Plenty.

  1. The letter is in Spanish. Although I do happen to speak Spanish, I’m not great at reading big quantities of it. And I’m pretty sure that whatever charity rented them the list, it’s one that does business in English. Which means most of the people receiving it won’t be able to read it at all.
  2. They’ve enclosed six cents of real American money. Which probably upped the cost of the mailing by at least a dollar apiece, because of the technologies involved in mounting coins precisely on circles, facing the right direction, etc. If they can afford to spend a dollar to send me money, they don’t need me to send them money.
  3. If I understand the Spanish correctly, they actually request that I send them back the six cents along with my donation. If this is supposed to weigh on my psychology and pull on my heartstrings, it fails. It just gets me annoyed that their gift is false.
  4. It’s not a group I’ve heard of, and they don’t do enough to build my confidence in the organization. Other than telling me (on the back) that 95 percent of contributions go to programs, and logos (again on the back) from Ministry Watch and BBB, they do basically nothing to convince me that this is a legitimate organization. There’s no reference to checking them out on Charity Navigator, nothing about what they’ve actually done with the money they received. All they tell me (translating) is “Founded in 1982, Food For The Poor is an interdenominational Christian organization that works for ending the suffering of the poor in the Caribbean and Latin America.” It doesn’t say how they accomplish this.
  5. I’m not a Christian and prefer to contribute to good works through nondenominational or Jewish organizations. So I’m not in their target market.
  6. I respond much better to pictures of people being empowered through changemaking organizations than I do to 1970s-Biafra-style hunger photos. And I think a lot of other people do as well; in my own copywriting, I emphasize the positive change, not the desperation.
  7. It’s addressed to Señor Sheldon Horowitz. True, Sheldon Horowitz (generally without Señor attached) was my name until I was 15. But as a junior in high school, I shortened it to Shel, and started coming out from under a lot of negative emotional baggage tied up with my birth name. In 1983 when I got married, Shel became my legal name. I didn’t move to my current home until 1998. Thus, there has never been a Señor Sheldon Horowitz at this address. Call people what they want to be called, not by a name they rejected. Yeah, I know, they were just buying a list—but it must have been a nonresponsive list, because calling me Sheldon predisposes me to reject the request.

The sad thing is, it would have been easy for them to do so much better. I actually went to Charity Navigator and looked them up anyway. They score very well on both financial and organizational criteria. They took in over a billion dollars in 2013, and funded programs with almost $985 million that year.

Too, the Charity Navigator site gives me a description, obviously written by the charity itself, that would have done a lot to assuage my concerns, had it been in the letter:

Food For The Poor (FFP) ministers to spiritually renew impoverished people throughout Latin America and the Caribbean. Established in 1982, FFP’s goals are to improve the health, economic, social and spiritual conditions of the men, women and children we serve. Food For The Poor raises funds and provides direct relief assistance to the poor, usually by purchasing specifically requested materials and distributing them through the churches and charity organizations already operating in areas of need. Since its founding FFP has distributed more than 63,000 tractor-trailer loads of aid to the poor. We have also built more than 84,000 housing units for people desperately in need of adequate shelter, and completed more than 1,475 water projects that provide lifesaving water and sanitation to hundreds of thousands of people in need.

Nice and specific about what they do and how they do it–so why not include it in their mailings?

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