John Singleton, These Thoughts are Genuine (Kensington, NSW: Blake & Batcheler, 1971), pp. 95-96.
I have come to the conclusion that the people who do least good for the community are those who would pretend to do the most.
I have written before of the pathetic almost immoral ignorance of the ostensibly well-meaning idiots who run charity organisations.
Their efforts are little more than white shirt, tie and dandruff versions of Indian back alleys.
Begging, pleading. Down on the knees and hope for a handout. Have a cocktail party; get the wrinkled, stupid old face in the social rags — and all in the name of charity.
It is sick and it sticks in my craw.
I have previously written of the Australian road safety campaign doodled on the back of an envelope by one of our typical intelligentsia ministers and actually run on TV with taxpayers’ money, your money, my money, with the predictable zero result.
I have written of the $.5 billion TV time donated to charities in the U.S.A. with abysmal results.
The $50 million seat-belt campaign that actually resulted in a decline of usage.
The much awarded and applauded Peace Corps campaigns that result in fewer and fewer applicants each year.
The anti-inflation campaign “don’t be a piggy” which is just plain ignorant of all basic consumer understanding.
The massive campaign for zip (post) codes which has been so ineffective that today zip codes are not even used by U.S. postal clerks, except in bulk mailings.
And we have all seen the campaigns promoting religion that are as out of touch with real consumer needs as the hymns and hypocrites that spread the message no one wants to hear.
And the drug abuse campaigns that give pot and speed and acid a more evil and enticing image than Marlboro ever dreamed about.
And while all this incredible human waste goes on we continue to have charity telethons. Door-knock campaigns. Badges. Flowers. Cake stalls and raffle tickets.
Incredible, dumb efforts conceived by incredible, dumb people who believe that their particular charity has a God-given right to the people’s money.
Nothing but beggars in high heels and tails.
Yet it is all very unnecessary. There is an alternative.
If a charity is worthwhile. If human life is as important as baked beans, then surely human life has the right to at least the same amount of marketing thinking and effort.
It would seem logical.
My partner, Rob Palmer, has made considerable progress with the National Heart Foundation in stressing their need to make themselves viable without resorting to the Indian backstreet technique.
One example: low cholesterol cook books, marketed profitably by the Foundation, plus actually, tangibly contributing to the well-being of the community.
In stark contrast let me share with you a letter I received last week from a charitable institute who came and spoke with me.
They spoke with me of the need to inform their market (those people they have supposedly been set up to help for as long as anyone can remember) because:
The people we want to help just don’t know what help we have to offer.
We don’t have enough money to help them if they ask for help anyway.
Nor do we have the people.
They asked us for help. We offered it. Freely, tangibly.
In return we received the following letter.
It is real. I will quote from it.
(The italics are mine.)
… We are not yet ready for the thorough commercial approach designed only for tangible results which have proved so dramatically successful with merchandise clients and which I felt when we had our discussion, had such exciting prospects.
… While I am sorry in a way that we on the staff will miss a stimulating and profitable association, I am convinced that the conservative promotion guidance we have chosen is correct …
Note “tangible results” are out, “conservative promotion guidance” is in.
Run a few ads, win a few awards. Knock on a few doors. Beg, borrow. Do anything but stand on your own two feet.
In 600 B.C., Aesop wrote: “The Gods help them that help themselves.”
I now know how he must have felt.