Nonprofit Art and The Tyranny of Happiness

Do taxpayers pay for your nonprofit arts organization to wrestle with artistic satisfaction or to make their community better?

In deciphering whether nonprofits, especially nonprofit arts organizations, deserve funding, acclaim, or zealous advocacy, there are a number of factors that we keep forgetting.

The first thing is that nonprofits cost you a lot of money. Not “you,” as in “you who run or donate to nonprofits.” “You” as in “everyone who pays taxes in the United States.”

If money not earned is the same as money spent (and, in effect, it is), then you and I pay for every nonprofit in the US. (If you’re not in the US, I’m thinking it’s the same, but your results may differ.)

Nonprofits are, by definition, exempt from paying some taxes. The government and the communities in which nonprofits do their work have made a deal that, according to them, there is a great deal of value created by investing in corporations who do the kind of work that either cannot or do not show a profit. In doing so, the American public has made a decision that the money not collected in taxes from nonprofit corporations—the “money not earned”—is worth the “money spent.” If they did not deem it worthy of nonprofit status, taxes would be collected from that company and redistributed back to all those things for which taxes pay.

On top of that, money donated to nonprofits qualifies for a tax write-off for most Americans. The level varies based on each taxpayer’s earnings that year, but that is also money that is not going to the treasury for redistribution. Two buckets of money “not earned,” and therefore, “spent” by taxpayers for nonprofits.

Don’t take this the wrong way. It’s worth it. For the most part.

All this boring money talk leads to the obvious question: “Specifically, what is that value being created?”

Nonprofit arts organizations, as a whole, don’t offer the answer, at least according to the IRS. If the IRS were ever to audit arts organizations as to their adherence to the code, they might rescind the nonprofit status of most, if not all, of the largest institutions. A lot of the medium and small ones, too.

Some arts and foundation leaders might offer this idea: engaging people in the arts makes them happier. Or at least has the power to make people less unhappy.

“Art should be a form of therapy, which should be understood broadly as an aid to living and dying.”

—Alain de Botton, Author, Art as Therapy

Do arts organizations, in fact, make us happy?

Happiness is an underrated emotional state, mostly because it is fleeting. People generally experience a blissful happiness based on an event and when that event has moved far enough into the past, the bliss wanes. Dopamine is released when a luscious bite of chocolate is plopped into the mouth (if you like chocolate, of course). A few minutes later, that jolt of happiness has disappeared, although the memory of it remains. This is why people take pictures of their dinner.

But is there a tyranny to happiness? Must we be happy or die trying?

Certainly, the advertising community believes so. Selling the bliss of that particular brand of chocolate brings money to that chocolatier. Taking it several steps further, the advertisers might have you believe that there can be no happiness without that chocolate. This raises three questions for your nonprofit arts organization:

1. Does it, in a sense, sell happiness?
2. Does it, in a sense, provide happiness?
3. If happiness is not the goal, what is?

There are specific things in life that make some people happy, some people anxious, and some people ambivalent. “School” is an example, and it tends to engender a pretty sticky emotion. Schools and nonprofit arts organizations have always emphasized the idea that the more you know, the more you’ll be happy. Both institutions contextualize life for the user (the student/audience).

But that notion doesn’t prove out with the data.

“In a nationwide survey of 21,678 U.S. high school students, researchers from the Yale Center for Emotional Intelligence and the Yale Child Study Center found that nearly 75% of the students’ self-reported feelings related to school were negative.”

Follow the bouncing yellow school bus:

🚌 Kids take the bus to school.

🚌 3 out of 4 don’t like school. They’re not all that keen on the bus, either.

🚌 A bus takes them on a field trip to a concert hall, playhouse, or museum.

🚌 Afterwards, they take the bus back to school.

🚌 Later, they take the bus home.

Arts experiences, to them, are a school activity, not something someone would choose to do on their own, let alone pay for the privilege. It is no wonder, then, that when they become adults, most Americans tend to stay away from live arts performances and exhibits. To most, it’s school. If you’re in the 25% that liked school, you’re likelier to attend. Otherwise, it’s an activity for kids only.

To these adults, attending an arts event can feel more like an obligation, rather than a chance to experience cultures, ideas, and points of view. It is neither a path to happiness nor is it a particularly pleasant sense memory. Ultimately, only the most self-actualized choose to attend unless there is a personal connection to the art (have a friend in the cast/orchestra, they are performers/artists themselves, etc.)

The tyranny of happiness makes us believe that when we’re not happy, we’re failing. Where’s that dopamine kick?

Just like ads for chocolate, nonprofit arts organizations offer themselves up as products of happiness. The problem is, as we’ve seen from childhood to adulthood, they’re not. 75% of the population fears boredom at an arts event, just as they felt boredom in their version of school.

What would happen if arts organizations stopped selling tickets, instead depending wholly on contributions (like every other nonprofit)? What if they brought in families instead of children? Better yet, what if they brought art to neighborhoods that have been forgotten, free of charge to those communities in their region?

How can your nonprofit arts organization change the conversation away from the insane drive for happiness that, when unreached, devolves into depression? Or worse, dispassionate boredom? What tactics can change the equivalence between “school” and “art,” so much so that frequency issues—garnering a customer base that seeks multiple experiences from a single organization, or at least from several community organizations? How can we influence decision-makers that nonprofit arts organizations do help the underserved, rather than act as tools of declamatory pontification?

Answer those questions well and there’s not a taxpayer in this country that would begrudge being forced to pay for your work.

Based in Kirkland, Washington, Alan Harrison is a writer and speaker specializing in nonprofit organizations, strategy, the arts, and life politics. His columns appear regularly in major publications. Contact him directly at alan@501c3.guru.

If you’re feeling generous or inspired, just click on the coffee cup. You don’t have to, of course, but if you can afford it and find some value here, please provide the desperate need for caffeine.

Alan is always looking for good opportunities to write and consult for nonprofits that need a hand. And, of course, that elusive Perfect Opportunity™.

BIG NEWS: Alan’s new book, “Scene Change: Why Today’s Nonprofit Arts Organizations Have to Stop Producing Art and Start Producing Impact” will be published in January. CLICK HERE TO PRE-ORDER IN THE UNITED STATES. If you live in the UK, CLICK HERE.

Alan will be speaking on May 19 at the Washington State Nonprofit Conference at the Marriott Hotel in downtown Tacoma, WA. The publisher has pre-printed a LIMITED NUMBER of books so that attendees can purchased a signed copy right there at the event.

A few more copies may be made available for those booking conferences, reading engagements, and speaking engagements. Recruit your local bookstore, conferenc