Once again, after four years, a choice will be made, and our hopes for a better world are riding on it. I refer, of course, to the call for proposals for ‘100&Change.’

This MacArthur Foundation initiative awards a staggering 100 million dollars to a single project with a bold plan. The website states:

‘By funding 100&Change at a level far above what is typical in philanthropy, we seek to address problems and support solutions that are radically different in scale, scope, and complexity. We believe $100 million can enable real progress toward a meaningful and lasting solution to a critical problem of our time.’

100&Change epitomizes a grandiose view of philanthropy and its possibilities: that enough resources and the right idea will catalyze changes that lead to a better world. But is there evidence to support this model of social change?

The LGBTIQ Rights Movement: an Emblematic Case

In almost every case I know, social change has been haphazard and unpredictable. When I was an American teenager forty years ago, many of my friends were ‘in the closet,’ as we said then, and LGBTIQ equality seemed a distant dream. My children cannot understand this. Theirs is a better world.

The Stonewall riot in June 1969 was pivotal, but only a moment in a long stretch of time, work, and happenstance. Bar patrons fought off the Vice Squad, at great risk with no certainty of the movement their anger would bring to the fore. Their uprising would most likely bring jail time, at best.

There was gay rights activism before then as well as after: The Mattachine Society kept gay men out of jails and psychiatric wards in the 1950s, and fostered a sense of solidarity that helped make Stonewall possible. After the smoke cleared, Stonewall became a rallying cry for more assertive activism, courageous and far-sighted work that was instrumental in landmark victories over the past half century.

But those five days on Christopher Street were unplanned and unanticipated.

Human rights were being extended in many directions at the time, and the ways that movements challenged entrenched norms benefited others. Second wave feminism emerged around the same time, also challenging dominant gender norms that privileged straight, cisgender men.

Meanwhile, cause lawyers used law and precedent, winning landmark rulings to decriminalize homosexuality and establish an equal right to marriage. Cases like Obergefell v. Hodges fostered acceptance, an understanding that LGBTIQ people just want to live their lives with the same rights and freedoms as anyone else.

Accidents and Unintended Consequences

But activism was not the only force for change: Accidental contributions also advanced the cause. AIDS emerged with tragic fury, and the unconscionably slow response shone a light on the indifference of mainstream culture to the lives of gay men. More positively, in the 1980s and 90s, media portrayals normalized gays and lesbians, their lives and aspirations, from ‘Torch Song Trilogy’ to Ellen’s televised coming out and the sweet domesticity of ‘Will and Grace.’

The uptick in LGBTIQ-positive media depictions – what we might now call ‘narrative change’ work – looks natural in retrospect: Literature reflects the changing times, and the illusion of being just ahead of the trends is a producer’s bread and butter. Phenomena like this could be anticipated, but hardly controlled. Ellen’s coming out was unlikely to appear in any theory of change.

Other factors at work fall under the law of unanticipated consequences.

The Oregon Citizens Alliance campaigned against LGBTIQ rights in the 1980s and 90s. In 1992, they fielded a ballot measure amending the state constitution to declare homosexuality ‘abnormal, unnatural and perverse.’ A campaign rife with hate speech ensued, and forced many Oregonians to examine their own prejudices. The measure went down to defeat, and many on-the-fencers became LGBTIQ rights supporters. The OCA soon disbanded.^[1]

Meanwhile, support for gay rights grew, so much so that today, even young evangelicals support LGBTIQ rights in significant numbers. Marriage equality is the law of the land; Corporations and politicians vie to participate in Pride parades around the world. From the perspective of May 1969, the progress is incredible.

This change resulted from a complex set of factors. While there are clear through-lines in the activism of litigators and advocacy groups, no single strategy guided them all; indeed, there were heated disputes among LGBTIQ activists throughout this period. Many pivotal moments emerged spontaneously. The effect was one of often unrelated developments building to a sea change in public attitudes.

It was never inevitable, as the virulent remnants of homophobia today remind us.

All In One Basket

This case suggests that no single strategy could anticipate, let alone orchestrate, all the factors that come together in enacting social change. Planning and good strategies are important, but none can hope to encompass it all. In the end, it is the alchemy of uncoordinated actions and accidents that lead to change.

$100 million is enough money to accomplish many things, but giving such a large sum to support a single strategy runs counter to how social change actually happens.

In its defense, the architects of 100&Change might agree that their investment alone cannot solve social problems, only that this infusion can catalyze progress, spur on good ideas, and help create a tipping point in favor of progress.

But I would argue that it’s not just that a massive single grant is not effective on its own. Rather, this form of giving is detrimental to change. Such a massive grant will exert a powerful gravitational force on its surroundings, distorting the field in the process. Others will vie for subgrants, aligning their work with the winning strategy at the expense of the diversity of approaches we need.

Communications campaigns supported by the grant will swamp other messages, crowding out the full range of arguments that may be needed to convince different constituencies. Other funders will take note, creating further pressure to cast aside existing strategies and follow the lead of the elephantine, 100&Change-backed idea.

Over time, it is hard to imagine that other theories of change will not wither, outcompeted by this better-resourced rival. Promising ideas and emerging opportunities will be missed, as fewer groups are looking over the wider strategic terrain. And as the number of strategies is winnowed down, the multiplicity of causes that make change happen will be diminished. Change that is driven by fewer agents, operating on a smaller number of strategies, is more likely to fail.

One hundred million is a huge number of seeds to sow. History suggests that the better way to catalyze change is to spread it widely, and germinate an array of new green shoots.

Devon Kearney has worked with human rights and social justice nonprofits around the world for more than 20 years.

^[1] More recently, former OCA Communications Director Scott Lively has made a name shopping homophobic legislation abroad, becoming an early architect of the draconian anti-gay law in Uganda. Lively was sued by Sexual Minorities Uganda and the Center for Constitutional Rights for violating the human rights of Ugandans. OCA founder Lon Mabon, meanwhile, now sells salsa.