A good sabbatical asks for a lot of self-awareness.

Does the world need another nonprofit consultant?

Dear Friends,

Fifteen months ago, I took my last box of office crap down to the garage, stuffed it into the hatchback of the Subaru, hugged my colleagues goodbye, and drove north along the I-280 for the last commute of my adult life. I was 43.

I was leaving behind the all-star Inclusive Governance team at the Hewlett Foundation—back before the word “inclusive” somehow became as partisan as everything else in life.

For this community college fuckup, I didn’t have anything professionally left to prove. I had gone further, earned more, and accomplished more than 19-year-old me working the graveyard shift at 7-11 would have believed possible. And besides, who was I trying to prove myself to all along, anyway?

The silhouette of the San Francisco skyline emerged on the horizon. I was listening to Tom Petty, my hands drumming on the steering wheel. I felt amazing.

I thought I was starting my 14-month sabbatical (the one I had been planning over the previous five years), but I didn’t even last six months before I was back to working full time — just as my friends had predicted.

Why did I jump so quickly into another full-time gig? Was I afraid of becoming professionally irrelevant? Did I start to feel insecure when former colleagues asked me, “So, what are you doing now?” Was I scared to try something new that I might fail at — starting a business, developing an art installation — and instead retreated to what felt safe?

Or maybe I was genuinely drawn to the new opportunity. Perhaps I felt a calling to contribute to something I’m passionate about: fostering common understanding and collective self-governance.

How can I be sure? Maybe I wanted to step into a new phase of my professional journey in which I mentor, coach, and connect others to do important work. But didn’t I tell myself that I wanted to leave philanthropy so I would develop my projects rather than just support the work of others?

Am I leaning into my strengths? Or am I running away from my fears? Probably, yes.

Does the world really need another nonprofit consultant?

When I last shared a life update in May, I was starting a full-time consulting contract with Unite America to make a big push for primary election reform in the U.S.¹ Seven months later, my work with Unite America wraps up this week. And while a part of me would love to get back into sabbatical mode — cycling, hanging out, reading in the hammock — another part of me can’t stay away from interesting projects and people.²

I’m now at the beginning of a dream assignment with the American Institute for Boys and Men (AIBM). More than two years after he published Of Boys and Men to muted enthusiasm, Richard Reeves is having a moment.³

All of a sudden, everyone wants to know: Are men okay? Richard Reeves has thoughtful answers delivered in a reassuring tone — and a research and policy agenda to boot. It’s no surprise that funders are showing interest.

So what’s my role? Having lived through several funder hype cycles, I’m helping AIBM consider how to take advantage of the moment and grow sustainably so they don’t fall victim to what typically happens to organizations after funders’ temperamental attention inevitably drifts to the next cause célèbre.⁴

As I engage in the work — presenting scenarios to AIBM’s leadership about how they can grow their impact while remaining nimble and efficient — I realize, Huh, I’m pretty good at this. I’m learning a ton. And I’m having fun. I think I like being the irreverent outsider who comes in with good energy, big ideas, and little attachment to whether they’re adopted. Maybe this is my niche, helping relatively small organizations with windfalls of funding consider how to grow sustainably while staying nimble — especially as AI redefines roles and possibilities. Maybe it’s time for me to make a professional website and fully embrace a new job title for the rest of my 40s: nonprofit consultant.

AIBM’s most excellent team at a staff retreat. Their research is truly great — check it out.

But does the world need another nonprofit consultant? A few weeks ago, I was crossing the border from Tijuana to San Diego. The border agent, flipping through all the stamps in my passport, asked what I do for work.

“Nonprofit consulting,” I shrugged.
”Boy, does that sound like a scam,” he said, happy to reveal his politics. “What’s the organization you’re consulting for?
I figured maybe I’d win him over with “the American Institute for Boys and Men.” But no. He just raised his eyebrows and sighed while handing me back my passport:
”Yeah, that really sounds like a scam.”

On the one hand, I feel confident I am adding value to Unite America and AIBM. On the other hand, I see my job through the border officer’s eyes. He sits in a booth all day stamping passports to protect the integrity of his country’s border. I earn twice his salary by presenting budget forecasts and hypothetical org charts to organizations funded by the philanthropic whims of billionaires.

One thing is true about both jobs: if we don’t do it, someone else will.

Maybe it’s time for me to try something different? Life is so short. For the first time in my life, I have financial freedom. I could dedicate myself to anything, at least for a few years. Shouldn’t I try something bold and risky?

But let’s save that for next week …

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⁵To conclude for this week, here’s a playlist of some of my favorite songs from my favorite albums of 2024:

1. Hard to believe Your Day Will Come is a debut album. Tracks 2 & 4 are the bangers, but I’m into the whole concept and would love to see him live.

2. Mk.gee’s Two Star & The Dream Police was my favorite album of the year. By far. Probably a top-ten album of all time. I loved this NYT profile. And I can’t get enough of the 2022 music video for Absolutely with Dijon. I hope those two keep collaborating well into the future.

3. Every year I need a kind of David Byrne / Alec Ounsworth / Will Toledo drunken, happy mumbling nasaly vocalist, and this year it’s Cameron Winter. This entire album is so good; I can’t believe it didn’t blow up.

4. Not like Brittany Howard needed to prove herself as a solo artist after Alabama Shakes, but she keeps doing it. Is it rock? R&B? Gospel? EDM? Who cares. Lots of “don’t give a fuck” empowered lesbian vibes here. And sounds even better Live From Austin City Limits.

5. Mk.gee’s was my album of the year, but Helado Negro’s PHASOR is the album that’s gonna remind me the most of living in Oaxaca in 2024 with Iris. Lots of cooking dinner to this one.

6. Okay, fine, this isn’t from a full album, but the EP from Mount Kimble and King Krule is hot, hot, hot. Big bonding with my buddy Revaz on this one.

7. English Teacher’s debut album This Could Be Texas was the working-class, British art rock album I needed. Someone take me on a road trip in a 1970s Volvo.

8. Why doesn’t Jespfur get more love!? I can’t tell if it’s 80s, 90s, or from another planet.

9. Vegyn blew up this year with The Road to Hell is Paved with Good Intentions, but it’s worth delving into his back catalog, including the 75-track 2022 album, “Don’t Follow Me Because I’m Lost Too!!” Predictably, I love his collaborations with Mk.gee.

10. Berlioz is named after a 19th-century French composer and his record label bio reads “If Matisse made house music.” I’m into it. This track isn’t representative, and I’m not a big fan of electronic jazz with affirmations, but I kept listening to this one. Maybe it’s the affirmation I need to do something bold and risky?

11. Check out some videos of Jake Xerxes Fussel. What a sweet man who knows and respects folk music while keeping it innovative. He’s got a bit of Blaze Foley in his voice and vibe.

12. Adrian Lenker. There’s no one I’d rather sing around a campfire with.

13. Scratch that. I’d like to sing around a campfire with Adrian Lenker and Yasmin Williams.

14. Actually, Bon Iver should join the campfire too.

And what about you, dear reader? Did you make a 2024 playlist? I’d love to listen.

Yours,

David

1. Unfortunately, we didn’t get the results we had hoped for, but the agenda remains as important as ever.

2. Again, why the difference between stated versus revealed preferences?

3. See recent appearances on The Daily Show, Honestly with Bari Weiss, Planet Money, Daily Stoic with Ryan Holiday, the Weekly Show with Jon Stewart, Ammanpour & Co on PBS, Modern Wisdom with Chris Williamson, The Diary of a CEO, and on and on.

4. Consider private philanthropy’s racial justice pledges following George Floyd’s murder, the total lack of planning, and eventual implosion of two of the biggest funding recipients: Ibram X. Kendi’s Antiracism Center and Black Lives Matter Global Network Foundation, which is now suing its fiscal sponsor. Or more regularly: the hiring and firing sprees of nonprofits that receive a “big bet.”

5. Somehow, not a single rap album in 2024. 🤷‍♂️ I uploaded a screenshot of the playlist to Claude and asked what it revealed about me, hoping it would kiss my ass and make me feel like I have superior musical taste:

You seem to have an affinity for independent and alternative music, with a particular appreciation for artists who blend genres. The inclusion of artists like Adrianne Lenker and Brittany Howard suggests you value authentic, emotionally resonant songwriting. You appear to be drawn to artists who push boundaries and experiment with form, while still maintaining emotional depth in their work. The presence of newer, less mainstream artists (like Jespfur and Vegyn) suggests you actively seek out emerging music rather than just following popular trends.

Oh Claude, you’re so sweet.