What’s Philanthropy’s Role in Democratic Resilience?
This thought piece was written for The Collectif Voices.
In moments of democratic uncertainty, local elections can reveal national truths. From the very beginning, the New York City mayoral race was no ordinary contest. The dynamics surrounding Zohran Mamdani’s win reflected the broader political moment we’re living in: elite power consolidation, coordinated misinformation, and efforts to shape election outcomes before voters ever reach the polls.
What happened in New York wasn’t just a clash of candidates; it was a test of whether ordinary people still believe their voices matter. And the fact that voters showed up, in force and in droves, suggests the voting public is more willing to push back against elite-driven politics than many assume.
Taken together with the recent midterm elections, it looks like voters are offering something philanthropy has lacked this year: clarity. Election results reveal where democratic pressure points are emerging and where the people are still willing to push back – even under fatigue, misinformation, and elite interference. Voters are also exposing the widening gap between public resilience and philanthropic caution.
Philanthropy has invested billions over the past decade to prevent exactly this moment. Much of that investment has been vital: supporting election protection, civic engagement, local journalism, community organizing, and efforts to counter disinformation. And yet, here we are. Not because philanthropy failed, but because authoritarianism evolved faster, became more coordinated, and grew more willing to use the tools of the state to narrow civic space.
This is where the recent elections are instructive: they show what’s working on the ground and what philanthropy has been hesitant to support at the scale or speed that this moment demands.
That’s the diagnosis. The blueprint is what comes next.
Philanthropy has long played a quiet stabilizing role in American democracy, funding civic infrastructure, nurturing leadership, and protecting the guardrails that keep institutions functioning. Yet today, that stabilizing force is under strain. A new atmosphere of fear and risk has taken hold, shaped by concerns that foundations and donors could face retaliation for funding work perceived as misaligned with current political priorities.
This caution doesn’t exist in a vacuum. Around the world, authoritarian regimes have long used similar tactics to consolidate control: targeting civil society, weaponizing regulations, and intimidating those who fund dissenting voices. This “authoritarian playbook” is not abstract; it’s a recognizable pattern of narrowing civic space. In the U.S. context, we are beginning to see the application of these tactics – proposals to investigate critics without cause and threats of regulatory retaliation that echo global patterns of civic space closure.
In this environment, many foundations have spent the year in a defensive posture, slowing grants, reassessing exposure, and waiting to see how the political winds would shift. But nearly ten months into this administration, very little new money has moved, particularly for election-related work. The gap between what democracy demanded in 2025 and what philanthropy felt safe doing grew wider.
The data bear this out. Democracy-related giving still accounts for less than one percent of U.S. philanthropy. Election administration, civic education, and public-trust initiatives remain chronically underfunded. As the Gates Foundation Collaborative noted, “bursts of funding to elect candidates or fight disinformation will never be sufficient in the fight to strengthen our democracy.” The gap between what’s needed and what’s being funded is widening – a stark contrast to the multi-decade, coordinated investments that have steadily reshaped the nation’s political and institutional landscape. This has undoubtedly contributed to today’s democratic backsliding, consolidation of power, and gradual closing of civic space.
Which brings us to the blueprint for 2026. If philanthropy is to meet the moment ahead, not just to respond but to prevent further erosion, three shifts are essential. Philanthropy must become a:
Shock absorber and infrastructure builder. Philanthropy’s first task is to invest in the systems that make democracy function – strong election administration, reliable information ecosystems, and community-level trust building. These aren’t glamorous investments, but they are the scaffolding that sustains everything else.
Strategic defier of risk aversion. When fear of scrutiny leads to paralysis, democratic capacity atrophies. Funders must model intelligent risk-taking: supporting trusted intermediaries, providing multiyear flexible funding, and deploying resources early and well before the final months of an election cycle. The Democracy Fund found that election-related grants often arrive “too late to be most useful.” A resilient democracy requires the opposite – early, steady investment.
Coalition-builder and norm shaper. Philanthropy can connect issue areas that share democratic stakes – such as climate, education, health, and civic participation – and help reframe democracy itself as a nonpartisan infrastructure. Building broad, cross-ideological coalitions is one of the most effective ways to resist polarization and regulatory targeting alike.
Adopt a long-term, patient-capital mindset. Democracy’s opponents often have deep pockets, cohesive strategies, and a long view. They invest steadily over decades to shape institutions and public narratives. Democracy’s defenders must match that horizon. This means patient capital: multiyear commitments, institution-building, and sustained investments that recognize that protecting democracy is generational work.
Ultimately, democratic resilience is not only about safeguarding ballots or institutions; it’s about defending the conditions that allow civil society to operate freely. This includes philanthropy’s own freedom to take risks, take on work that others shy away from, and stand up for democratic norms without fear of retribution.
At this moment, philanthropy’s ability to participate is under an unprecedented but not unfamiliar threat. Misinformation, harassment, and efforts to silence dissent aren’t just attacks on individual organizations; they are attempts to shrink the space for civic engagement itself. As historically foreign risks to democracy reach domestic soil, philanthropy’s role, and its responsibility, is to protect that space, to keep participation possible and democracy alive.
