First Person
Eyes Light Up
Lewis B. Cullman
04/01/2007

Lewis B. Cullman is the author of Can’t Take It With You: The Art of Making and Giving Money. A businessman and philanthropist, he strives to educate others in how they can follow in his charitable footsteps. He turned 88 in January and is still skiing. His free booklet, How to Succeed in Fundraising by Really Trying, is available at lewiscullman.com.

In late 2006, I toured the completed education and research center at the Museum of Modern Art in New York. The view from the balcony outside the sixth-floor library is stunning: To the right stand the charming buildings on West 54th Street; to the left, the glass windows of an adjacent church; and in the center, the Sculpture Garden and atrium of the new main building.

I am quite proud that this new building bears the name The Lewis B. and Dorothy Cullman Education and Research Center. On the day of the ribbon cutting in late November, I felt a wonderful sense of completion. A week before, my wife, Dorothy, and I experienced one of the warmest tribute dinners we have ever attended. At the dinner, MoMA’s president, Marie-Josée Kravis, made a disarming comment. "Lewis Cullman was once a meteorologist," she announced to the crowd, "but now he’s become a rainmaker!"

The remark was a nod to my past and a clever play on words. It also reminded me of how far I have come, not only from my youthful compulsion to study the weather, but also in the few years since 1999, when I sold my company, At-A-Glance, to Mead Paper for $550 million—and pledged to give most of that money away.

Since my wife and I began working full time helping institutions and causes, we have had the time of our lives. The years I spent in business earning my fortune cannot begin to rival the joy I’ve experienced from giving it away. For me, the key to happiness is more than just writing a check. It is also getting fully involved with the people and organizations one cares about, and contributing one’s own expertise. That often means raising money.

Dorothy once said to me, "I’d rather be with smart people than stupid people." Who could disagree? In my fundraising efforts on behalf of the charities I love, I have altered Dorothy’s sentiments a bit: "I’d rather raise money from rich people than poor people—it’s more productive." While this statement may seem obvious, it is one of the many lessons I’ve learned about fundraising and philanthropy. For instance, no matter how many advantages you may have in your life, it is still important to cultivate leads. That means keeping your eyes and ears open when you meet people. Just as in the business world, it is important to get to know others and to learn about their interests. Take them to events. Expose them in subtle ways to what your priorities are—and then watch to see if their eyes light up. Affluent individuals who are passionate about various causes should take these (and other lessons) to heart as they strive to change the world. Remember, even among the rich, raising money still takes hard work.

Success Stories
When I was asked to give a dinner for Environmental Defense, I noticed that a friend’s daughter was in attendance. Impressed with the presentation, she donated $250,000 on the spot. My wife and I then invited her to a MoMA event. The lesson learned here is to leverage all your contacts. And, if you have a network of people who know your priorities, they can help by mentioning you and your projects.

In philanthropy and in life, I have found that serendipity is a cornerstone of success. For example, Bill Gates Sr. and I met when we were both inducted into the American Academy of Arts & Sciences in Cambridge. At a breakfast some years later, I made a pitch to him on behalf of the newly formed PBS Foundation, a board I had just joined. He showed little interest. Then his wife, Mimi, the director of the Seattle Art Museum and the former director of the Yale University (my alma mater) Art Gallery, invited me to tour her museum and its new sculpture garden. It turned out Mimi Gates loves PBS. I asked her to be the broker to get her husband involved—and she agreed. So I still have my hopes.

Remember, even among the rich, raising money still takes hard work.

Another technique I have found useful is what I call the "drop-dead challenge," wherein recipients must meet conditions or the challenge money disappears. The urgency this creates is an outcome that nobody can anticipate. After I made a drop-dead challenge grant to the Neurosciences Institute in La Jolla, Calif., Dave Mitchell, the director of institute relations, called on an important foundation. "Sorry," they said, "We’ve made all of our grants. Come back next year." Dave replied: "If I don’t get this money, I get zero." The foundation changed its rules.

Rather than simply giving money and walking away, philanthropists also can offer their own, often formidable, business expertise to create innovative ways to help. Allan Buchman, artistic director of New York theater company Culture Project, recently had an opportunity to receive a new and refurbished theater, one less expensive than the one he was in. He had signed a contract in November and needed to relocate in January. But he needed money to make the move.

Because the money had to be raised by December 31—and it was already after Thanksgiving—I felt there was nowhere near enough time to raise enough funds. So I decided with board member Gail Fuhrman to lend the theater $250,000 for its immediate needs, with the understanding that it would be paid back by June 30. I remembered that in the course of raising money for MoMA’s new buildings, there were times when my liquid assets provided healthy assistance when construction deadlines demanded timely cash payments. So, in addition to my personal donations to MoMA, I had also lent it money. Think of it as charitable bridge financing.

Finally, it is important to know when to pull the plug altogether. I am currently on the board of an organization focused on education and leadership, and the board wanted to jump-start donations from the private sector. I went to another board member and said I would put up $500,000 if she did the same. She wanted a third person to be part of this. Six months later, there were no written documents and no commitments. I withdrew my challenge. This is the case of a board that cannot get the job done—and one I no longer want to be a part of.

Mine to Give
One of the reasons I am having such a good time giving away money is that I made it myself. Though I came from a well-to-do family, I forged my own career and made a considerable amount of wealth when I sold my business. When I give advice to young people, I always say, "The buck you make yourself is your own; the buck you inherit is full of all kinds of psychological baggage."

My mother gets the credit for the idea of giving my money away. She put it simply and bluntly: "Who gives a damn what is said about you when you’re dead!" The point is to enjoy the benefits of generosity while we are alive. Charities need the money now—not at some undetermined future date.

Giving money not only helps our country, its institutions and our people, but it makes for an exciting and gratifying life. I urge you to think about this for yourself. Stay involved, and your interests will lead to situations where your money and your participation will open doors and do wonders. Just watch your own eyes light up. Mine sure did at MoMA, standing on that sixth-floor balcony, looking out at the beauty of New York.