Forget the Whale
A billionaire's abrupt retreat from a school is a cautionary tale. It’s time we got honest about what sustainability really means.
At a time when public media and nonprofit news organizations are looking for new or additional funding sources, there is a cautionary tale in the news that Priscilla Chan has stopped funding the school for disadvantaged kids she founded in 2016 with her husband, Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg.
According to reporting by the Washington Post:
…in April, less than a decade after the Primary School opened, Chan told staff it would shutter its two locations after the 2025-2026 school year. Weeks earlier its board had voted unanimously to close because of lack of funding: The billionaire couple’s philanthropic Chan Zuckerberg Initiative, the school’s sole donor, was pulling out.
While the exact reasoning behind their change of mind is unclear, the newspaper notes:
The impacts of the shuttering on families and the local school district show the risks for communities that depend on wealthy donors for essential services or support. A billionaire’s change of heart can destabilize vulnerable families or local government finances.
For many organizations, the holy grail is finding a whale—that sole individual or organization that will power everything perpetually. I’ll admit, the idea is seductive—one big yes instead of hundreds of smaller yeses. I’ve worked with development people who only want to go after the homerun; they’ll ignore all the singles, doubles, and even triples, hoping to land that big win. But the truth is that strategy is also lazy and only masked as efficiency.
But whale hunting isn't just about chasing billionaires.
In their way, public television and radio stations landed their whales long ago. And by that, I mean funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting. For those organizations, funding can account for anywhere from 20 to even 90 percent of their revenue. This reliance shows how even "institutional" funding creates the same dependency. I would argue that CPB funds (yes, I know it’s federal government funding) should have been treated as if it were endowment funds – money to fund innovation and experimentation, not supplement operating funds. I don’t only blame stations for this predicament; the truth is, I don't recall any effort from CPB to encourage stations to think strategically about sustainability or coach them on building diversified revenue streams.
I’ve seen a lot of really smart nonprofit leaders chase after whales, hoping to fill that budget gap or to please their Board of Directors or just prove their own value. The truth is, for an organization’s president or ceo, it genuinely does take less staff time to cultivate one major donor than 100 smaller ones (at least upfront). And beyond the time quotient, landing a major donor feels like validation of the mission in a way that diversified funding doesn't.
I like how the Arizona-based Stand By You Foundation puts it:
“Relying on a single funding source can leave your nonprofit vulnerable. Just like diversifying investments can protect against market fluctuations, having a variety of funding sources helps create a more stable financial base.”
I get it, when you're struggling, the whale feels like the only solution big enough to matter. Most of us know the 1946 classic movie “It’s a Wonderful Life.” In it, George Bailey goes to Mr. Potter, begging for a loan to cover the building and loan’s shortfall. Potter offers a lifeline — but at the cost of George’s dignity and control. For nonprofits, that whale donor can feel like Potter's offer—salvation that comes with strings you don't fully see until it's too late.
So, what does actual sustainability look like? It's not as clean or dramatic as landing a whale, but it works.
Here's what I've learned: no single funding source should make up more than about a third of your budget. I know that sounds arbitrary, but I've watched too many organizations get burned when their "reliable" 60% or 80% source decides to shift priorities. It feels scary to turn down big money, but think of it as insurance.
The other thing is, don't just think donations. What else can you do that makes money and aligns with your mission? I worked with a public radio station that started offering podcast production services to other nonprofits. Not huge money, but steady income that also strengthened their community ties. The key is staying true to what you're already good at—you're not opening a coffee shop, you're finding ways to monetize your expertise.
And look, I know this sounds impossible when you're struggling to make payroll, but you have to build reserves. Start small—even setting aside enough for one month of expenses gives you options. Once you have breathing room, everything changes. That foundation grant becomes a growth opportunity instead of a lifeline.
But here's the real difference: when you have a broad base of smaller supporters, you're not just diversifying funding—you're building a community. Those people become your advocates, your feedback loop, your early warning system. When a whale disappears, you start over. When you lose some individual donors, you adjust and keep going.
It's not sexy work. It doesn't make for exciting board meetings. But it's what keeps you around long enough to actually accomplish your mission.
There are several examples of organizations that started because of a single donor but then diversified to reduce that reliance.
The Texas Tribune launched in late 2009 with a major seed investment from co-founder John Thornton, a local venture capitalist. Thornton and his wife started the nonprofit newsroom with $1 million of their own money, before they helped raise additional funding from foundations and donors across Texas.
One of my favorite organizations, The Daily Memphian, started with $6.7M in seed funding from the Greater Memphis Community Foundation. Today their revenue streams are diverse and include digital advertising.
Turning back to Public Media, WNYC (New York Public Radio) receives some CPB funding, but it’s a tiny percentage of their $100M+ budget — well under 5% most years.
The Chan Zuckerberg school closure should be a wake-up call for every nonprofit leader. It's not just about finding stable funding—it's about building organizations that can weather changes in philanthropic priorities, economic downturns, or shifts in government support.
The organizations that thrive long-term aren't the ones with the biggest single donors. They're the ones that built sustainable, diversified models from the ground up. That's not just smart strategy—it's responsible stewardship of the mission you're trying to protect.
This isn't just a cautionary tale; it's a strategic imperative. My challenge to you is this: take 30 minutes this week to look at your own funding breakdown. What percentage does your single largest source represent? What is one small step you can take to diversify?
If this piece sparked an idea, consider sharing it with a colleague or board member who needs to hear this message.