Reflections on Power, Relationship and Allyship in Philanthropy
Beyond Giving challenges funders to reflect on power, accountability, and relationships, showing how philanthropy can act boldly, equitably, and in solidarity with the communities it serves.
Beyond Giving: Reflections on Power, Relationship, and Allyship in Philanthropy
At the 2026 Philanthropy New Zealand conference, the theme was Reimagining the Future – People, Place and Progress. One of the subthemes, Beyond Giving, reflected a shift many funders are exploring: moving from transactional grantmaking toward something more relational.
With government funding cuts to social and community sectors, the need for political allyship from philanthropic funders has never been greater. Meaningful and transformational philanthropy grows when funders and communities engage in authentic relationships, grounded in understanding, sector expertise, and a willingness to act in solidarity. The true test of a relationship is whether funders are prepared to stand alongside communities politically and adapt their processes to best serve them. Recognising invisible work, practising allyship, and evolving funding systems are all part of ensuring that relationships go beyond words and generate real, lasting impact.
Attending on behalf of Lots of Little Fires, I left with a question that stayed with me: philanthropy often speaks about transformation—but how might we evolve the way power and decision-making are shared so that transformation can genuinely take root?
Relationships: More Than Good Intentions
Throughout the conference, one theme stood out above all others: relationships that go beyond good intentions. Conversations consistently returned to trust, collaboration, and connection. Yet these qualities only become meaningful when funders are willing to understand, adapt, and act in partnership with communities.
Alongside these discussions, applications, reporting cycles, and competitive funding rounds were also a recurring topic. These processes, though well-intentioned, can sometimes sit in tension with trust and collaboration. They often place significant administrative burden on community organisations while decision-making power remains largely with funders.
Encouragingly, we are seeing change: more boards are including people with lived experience, funders are engaging more deeply with Te Tiriti o Waitangi, and high-trust funding approaches are increasingly explored. These shifts suggest that the sector is moving in thoughtful and promising directions.
Storytelling, Data, and Reporting
Storytelling plays a crucial role in helping funders see the complexity and humanity behind community work. Data and evaluation also matter; funders understandably want to understand the difference their support makes.
At Lots of Little Fires, storytelling is not just about reporting impact—it acts as a bridge between communities and funders, providing context, humanity, and empathy that numbers alone cannot convey. Stories capture the nuance of community work: the relationships, trust built over time, and small but significant moments that shape life trajectories. They also nurture and capture innovations emerging in communities and highlight collaborations that can drive systemic change.
During the conference, I was invited to speak on a panel about storytelling, sharing how strengths-based qualitative research can help build trust between communities and funders. This prompted a reflection: if strong relationships exist, and funders trust the organisations they support, how might applications, reporting, and funding systems evolve to better serve communities? Why do these systems exist at all, and how could they move beyond compliance to reflect trust and partnership? Many organisations spend considerable time justifying their need to exist, even though the most meaningful outcomes of their work are relational, quiet, and difficult to measure.
Philanthropy occupies a unique position here. Unlike government funding, which is tied to formal reporting requirements, philanthropic funding offers flexibility. This creates an opportunity to experiment with processes that reduce administrative burden, nurture innovation, and emphasise relationships and systemic impact—while still giving funders insight into transformative work.
When Sectors and Funders Miss Each Other
Challenges often arise when funders and the sectors they support operate from different lived realities. In many industries, deep sector knowledge is essential to good governance. In philanthropy, however, boards sometimes make decisions without equivalent depth of professional or lived experience in the communities or sectors they are funding.
This raises important questions: how do trustees get on boards, where do they come from, and which communities are they connected to? How does the expertise—or lived experience—they bring align with the work they are making decisions about? After all, the roles of board trustees are where funding decisions are ultimately made, and these decisions shape how resources flow to communities. Who sits at the table, and whether access to these roles is equitable, can influence whether boards truly understand the sectors and communities they aim to support.
This is not about questioning intent—philanthropy is often driven by generosity and a genuine desire to make a difference. But without close connection to community realities, even well-intentioned decisions may overlook the individuals and organisations quietly doing essential work. Often, it is the invisible labour—people holding relationships together, supporting young people, or maintaining cultural and social wellbeing—that is hardest to recognise within traditional funding systems. Reflecting on who is included in decision-making roles could help deepen philanthropy’s impact.
Security, Uncertainty, and Adaptability
Another theme that emerged was the mismatch between funding cycles and the long-term nature of social change. Multi-year funding is becoming more common, yet many organisations still operate with uncertainty about whether their work will continue to be funded.
Philanthropic institutions typically enjoy greater stability—secure roles, long-term employment, and financial security—while the communities they support face uncertainty. Innovation and urgency often grow out of necessity; communities frequently develop creative, collaborative ways of working simply because they must adapt quickly to changing realities.
Recognising this contrast invites reflection on how philanthropic organisations might intentionally create space for experimentation, learning, and new approaches—even when internal urgency is not as immediate. Adaptability may be one of philanthropy’s greatest strengths, and funding processes can evolve to meet the needs of communities rather than requiring communities to adapt to rigid systems.
Greater collaboration between funders—sharing knowledge, coordinating approaches, and learning from one another—can also ensure that vital work is supported, even when it does not fit neatly within a single funding framework.
Where Allyship Comes In
Relationships are strongest when underpinned by allyship. In philanthropy, allyship goes beyond funding decisions—it means speaking up. Choosing neutrality or silence in the face of policies that harm communities is itself a statement. Philanthropy has the influence and capacity to shape public policy and advocate for systemic change, often at little or no cost.
Real transformation depends on funders using that voice. Allyship can take many forms: standing publicly alongside communities, amplifying their concerns, or using networks and influence to remove barriers. It signals genuine partnership, strengthens trust, and ensures philanthropy supports more than short-term outcomes—it supports lasting change.
Signs of a Different Approach
Around Aotearoa, there are examples of relational philanthropy in practice. In the Waikato, the Len Reynolds Trust has developed an approach grounded in long-term relationships and ongoing conversation, rather than formal applications or reporting processes. Boards remain closely connected to the community, and Te Tiriti o Waitangi is embedded as a foundational layer across all decision-making.
Funding decisions are informed through dialogue and understanding of the work happening in communities. The trust prioritises multi-year funding aimed at systems change rather than short-term programmes, reducing administrative burden and allowing responsiveness to emerging needs. At times, it has also used its voice publicly in support of communities on political issues affecting them.
While no single model suits every funder, examples like this illustrate how trust, shared understanding, and willingness to stand alongside communities can shape meaningful philanthropy.
Transformation Starts Internally
Moving beyond giving begins with reflection inside philanthropic organisations. The values, assumptions, and motivations of individual funders influence every funding decision. Thinking about power, privilege, and purpose is not theoretical—it shapes how resources flow and how communities experience philanthropy.
Sector organisations like Philanthropy New Zealand play a particularly important role. They have a strong opportunity to set the tone, direction, and accountability for funders—encouraging them to reflect on, embed, and act on the progressive ideas discussed above. This includes prompting funders to equitably, authentically, and accountably serve their communities, and to adopt practices that build trust, strengthen relationships, and support lasting change. By modelling relational approaches and fostering collaboration between funders, PNZ can create an environment where these practices become actionable.
It is my hope that the next Philanthropy New Zealand conference will show real, bold change—a visible outcome of these conversations and reflections—and demonstrate that philanthropy can not only talk about transformation but actively make it happen.
