Many philanthropists have big ambitions, but even the richest individuals and largest foundations don't have enough money to end poverty, reverse climate change, or cure cancer. And many donors impose substantial costs on their grantees by, for instance, becoming excessively involved in program design or imposing burdensome reporting requirements. To achieve breakthroughs, donors need a multiplier effect-an approach that delivers many dollars' worth of impact for each dollar invested. In short, they need an investment model. To develop a sound model for philanthropy, donors must understand the methods of change that breakthrough results require. These include building robust nonprofit organizations, modifying public policy, establishing intermediaries, and facilitating research. The Draper Richards Foundation, for example, helps direct-service nonprofits build their capacity and capabilities; the James Irvine Foundation created an intermediary organization to improve high school education in California. Donors must also understand how they can best support those efforts-through the roles they play, the resources they devote, and the relationships they develop. Michael J. Fox, for instance, has used his celebrity and credibility in his foundation's efforts to cure Parkinson's disease. Developing a clear investment model doesn't have to be complicated or expensive, just deliberate. Without one, donors risk adding little value and imposing steep costs.

Tennessee-based nonprofit Youth Villages had an impressive record of serving emotionally and behaviorally troubled youth and their families, with higher success rates and lower costs than most child services providers. Yet expanding to offer its services on a broader scale proved challenging.

Twenty years ago, it would have been shocking for a children's choir to sell singing telegrams or for an organization serving the homeless to dabble in property management. Today, it seems routine. Nonprofits increasingly feel compelled to launch earned income ventures--not only to appear more disciplined and businesslike to stakeholders but also to reduce their reliance on fundraising. There's plenty of hype about the value of earned income ventures in the nonprofit world, but such projects account for only a small share of funding in most nonprofit domains, and few of the ventures make money. Moreover, when the authors examined how nonprofits evaluate potential enterprises, they discovered a pattern of unwarranted optimism. The potential financial returns are often exaggerated, and the challenges of running a successful business are routinely discounted. But the biggest downside of such ventures is that they can distract nonprofits' managers from their core social missions and, in some cases, even subvert those missions. There are several reasons for the gap between the hype and the reality. One is that an organization's nonfinancial concerns--such as a desire to hire the disadvantaged--can hamper it in the commercial marketplace. Another is that nonprofits' executives tend to overlook the distinction between revenue and profit. For example, a youth services organization that had received funding to launch a food products enterprise hired young people and began making salad dressing. The nonprofit believed it spent $3.15 to produce each bottle of dressing that was sold for $3.50. But when expenses such as unused ingredients and managers' salaries were factored in, the cost per bottle reached a staggering $90. Earned income ventures do have a role in the nonprofit sector, the authors say, but unrealistic expectations are distorting managers' decisions, wasting precious resources, and leaving important social needs unmet.