by Annie Scott
March 16, 2009

Here’s what’s going on in a land far from the Mitten …

2009 is a tough time to be in fundraising (or most industries, for that matter). Working at a nonprofit is challenging enough in a good year, so when the economy is all but imploding, it adds a bit more to the task of asking people for money.

Sure, making a contribution is an opportunity to support a cause one cares about…but only when one has the luxury to care — financially — about it more than say, having enough money to buy groceries, heat your home and make the mortgage payment.

At the nonprofit where I work, we have been preparing for this slowdown. Like many organizations, we have been as proactive as possible — tirelessly planning, strategizing, cutting back, brainstorming, soliciting donor feedback, tightening our budget every place we possibly can and adjusting our goals and expectations. Still, we are seeing a picture that is even grimmer than the scenario we anticipated. An alarming number of our donors seem to be disappearing, or at least hiding out. Many others who are still giving have no choice but to make smaller and fewer gifts than last year. Downsizing generosity is becoming an epidemic.

With no government funding to rely on, and a daunting goal for the year hanging over our heads, we have been exhausting our brains trying to conjure up new ways to ask people to part with money that is presumably a bit more precious to them than it was before. We’re coming up with new ways to communicate just how important their gifts are.

I analyze my own financial behavior for some perspective. Since my budget has constricted in the past year, I have made several significant changes to my money management habits. I have dramatically cut my spending — essentials only. And, though it causes me major guilt, I have decided that in place of monetary donations I will make only in-kind contributions of goods and volunteer service to causes I support.

Which made it all the more surprising when, on a random Saturday after I had finished the humbling act of paying bills, I actually was thrilled to answer the door to see a Girl Scout who lives down the street, with cookie order form in hand. Without hesitation, I ordered five boxes at $4 apiece. Solicitors usually can’t get me to open the door.

Having been a Girl Scout myself years ago, I am familiar with the process of selling cookies door to door. I never was my troop’s top seller because I lacked the competitive drive and business instinct. I didn’t put together the fact that asking people to give me money for cookies was also a sweet opportunity to support an important cause.

Today’s Scouts are much more savvy and sophisticated. A recent public radio story told how a number of San Diego area troops were preparing for a recession-tinged cookie season by attending a sales workshop at a local university. There they learned the art of the pitch and the beauty of the comeback. It was impressive.

The training certainly has changed since my days (when there was no training but to tell us to smile) but the appeal of the cookies clearly hasn’t. Nationwide, the Girl Scouts reportedly sell an estimated 130-200 million boxes of cookies each year. Which translates into roughly $455-700 million in gross annual sales. That’s a lot of sugar for a sales period that lasts only a few months out of each year.

Of course, the economy is presenting challenges to this year’s efforts, but the Girl Scouts have history on their side. Their cookie sales have been a part of American culture for 80 years. “We’re hopeful right now. The country, when in situations like this, goes back to what’s nostalgic and gives them pleasure,” says Denise Pesich, vice president of communications for Girl Scouts of the USA.

It certainly worked on me after paying bills. I craved a simpler time…and a sweet treat.

The Girl Scouts employ an ingenious strategy in not only time-limiting their product supply but also in pre-selling most of the cookies and collecting payment upon delivery. When placing my order this year, I was well aware that the Girl Scouts had to downsize the number of cookies per box for the first time ever, due to cost increases. But it didn’t cause me to downsize my order. All I cared about was: a) I couldn’t wait until my cookies arrived; and b) I was so happy to support my adorable, well-mannered neighbor and her fellow Scouts in their quest to Make a Difference. Of course, I was doing something that ultimately made me happy, but there was the added bonus that my cookie money was going toward a good cause.

That good cause (beyond the sugar fix the Girl Scouts provide to cookie monsters everywhere) is a program that works to instill strong values and work ethic in its participants. Girl Scouts are encouraged to think and act like philanthropists in order to better understand the needs of their communities, and to serve causes they care about in any way they can. The organization reports that selling cookies is designed to help Girl Scouts have fun, develop valuable life skills and make the world a better place by helping to support Girl Scouting in their communities.

At my organization, it is our assistance dogs that wear the special uniforms and provide a unique service to the community. But the Girl Scouts’ approach, though I didn’t fully embrace it while in their ranks, has taught me something about fundraising. Namely, that it requires a lot of hard work and a service-driven mindset to understand the donor. And if the product or service you’re offering in return for that investment is in itself a quality symbol of something that makes them happy (cookies, canine companions, etc.), it’s all the better.

My other take-away from the Girl Scouts’ training philosophy is that service itself is giving. As Marion Edelman, founder of the Children’s Defense Fund, sagely put it, “Service is the rent we pay to be living. It is the very purpose of life.”

Annie Scott lives and works in San Diego and sends dispatches back to her beloved Michigan.