Who Funds, and Why They Care

Applicants lose far more often to a bad match than to bad writing. A superb proposal sent to a funder whose priorities it does not serve is rejected by a reader who may well admire it — because that reader is accountable to something your project does not advance.

So the useful question is never "who has money." It is "whose stated purpose does my work already serve." That question has three broad answers, and they behave differently enough that a proposal written for one reads wrong to another.

Far more applications fail from a bad match than from bad writing. An excellent proposal sent to the wrong funder gets rejected by someone who might genuinely like it — because they answer to something your project doesn't help with.

So the question isn't "who has money." It's "whose goals does my work already serve." There are three broad answers, and they're different enough that a proposal written for one reads wrong to another.

Most people who don't get a grant didn't write badly. They asked the wrong person.

Think about asking for help with something. You'd ask a different person depending on what you needed — and asking the wrong one doesn't work even if you ask beautifully.

So the question isn't "who has money?" It's "who already cares about this?"

Public money comes with public accountability, and everything about the experience follows from that. The process is formal, the criteria are published, the scoring is often explicit, and the compliance burden is real — reporting requirements, audit exposure, sometimes rules about how you procure and hire.

In exchange you get the largest awards, multi-year terms, and a genuinely level playing field: the criteria are written down, and a reader who scores you against them is doing their job rather than following a relationship.

Write for a scorer. If the notice says the review allocates points to three things, address those three things in that order, in their language. This is the funder type where following instructions exactly is most of the game.

Public money comes with public accountability, and everything else follows from that. The process is formal, the rules are published, scoring is often spelled out, and the paperwork afterward is real.

In exchange you get the biggest awards and the fairest process — the criteria are written down, and the reader is scoring you against them rather than going on who they know.

So write for a scorer. If the notice says points go to three things, cover those three things, in that order, using their words.

When the money comes from the government, everything is written down: exactly what they want, exactly how they'll decide, and exactly what you have to tell them afterward.

That's more work. It's also the fairest kind, because the rules are the same for everyone and you can read them before you start.

A foundation exists to give money away toward a mission its trustees chose. It is smaller and more idiosyncratic than a government agency, and the mission is narrower than the name usually suggests.

Two consequences. First, fit is everything, and the mission statement is not marketing — it is the actual constraint the program officer works within. Second, relationships matter in a way they do not with public money: many foundations expect a letter of inquiry before a full proposal, and that step is a screening conversation, not a formality.

The most reliable research move is also the least used. Look at what a foundation has actually funded recently, not what it says it funds. The published list of past grants tells you the real size range, the real geography, and the real kind of organization it says yes to.

A foundation exists to give money toward a mission its trustees picked. It's smaller and more particular than a government agency, and its mission is usually narrower than its name suggests.

So fit matters enormously, and the mission statement isn't marketing — it's the actual limit the person reading your proposal works within. Many foundations also want a short letter of inquiry first, and that's a real screening step.

The best research move is the one almost nobody does: look at what they've actually funded recently, not what they say they fund. Past grants tell you the real sizes, the real places, and the real kind of group they say yes to.

A foundation is a group whose whole job is giving money away for one particular kind of thing. What they care about is usually narrower than their name sounds.

The best thing you can do is look at what they've given money to before. That tells you far more than anything they say about themselves.

A company's giving program pursues the company's interests alongside the public good, and pretending otherwise wastes everyone's time. It wants visibility, community standing in places it operates, and often something its employees can participate in.

That makes it the most honest exchange of the three, provided you are comfortable with the exchange. Awards tend to be smaller and faster, geography is usually tied to where the company has a presence, and what you can offer in return — recognition, volunteer opportunities — is legitimately part of the proposal rather than something to be embarrassed about.

Sometimes a business gives money away. They usually want people to know they did it, and they usually help near where they are.

That's a fair trade, as long as you know that's what it is. You do something good, and they get to be part of it.