Editors’ Note: Cassandra Chapman and Sana Nakata continue HistPhil‘s forum on the Inclusive Study of Global Philanthropy.

All dimensions of life in Australia and New Zealand have been shaped by the experience of British colonisation. “Down under” is a colloquial term born from colonial politics of geography. The British “motherland” has been the key reference point for many everyday thoughts and practices in our region, including ideas about generosity. We want to explore, as two people who experience this place in very different ways—Cassandra is a Pākehā (White) New Zealander and Sana is Torres Strait Islander, from a region now part of Australia—what it might mean to be generous in this part of the world.

“Philanthropy”? No way, mate

Most everyday Kiwis and Aussies would reject the idea of “philanthropy” as elitist. Tall Poppy Syndrome is endemic in these lands—we caution people not to become too big for their boots and we reckon it’s ungainly to make a show of our goodness. For this reason, people in Australia and New Zealand tend to be a bit wary of “philanthropists” who we typically stereotype as rich people giving a fraction of their excessive wealth away and then wanting credit for it. Or worse, calling it “justice.” In this article, we use the umbrella term generosity to denote actions that benefit others, regardless of motive.

When Cassandra is sharing research findings with nonprofits or the public, she doesn’t use the word ‘philanthropy’ but rather uses more specific terms like charitable giving, volunteering, or blood donation. These examples of generosity behaviours are not random. Scholars in Australia and New Zealand tend to focus on the same forms of generosity that are typically studied in other Western cultures. Former colonies like ours—outposts of the British Empire and both still members of the Commonwealth—have considered giving in ways that make most sense to the colonisers’ individualistic and capitalistic heritage: the gift of assets (money, time, blood, body parts) to benefit others.

Although both countries have rich Indigenous cultures, these perspectives are largely absent from research on generosity. Very little research has actively sought to know the way generosity is understood and practiced among Māori (New Zealand) and Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander (Australia) communities.

In our view, this is one of the greatest challenges in achieving a global understanding of generosity. First, most of the published research is produced in a few rich, Western countries (notably the United States, the Netherlands, the United Kingdom, and Australia). Second, wherever the research is produced, it typically represents capitalistic, Western, and largely White perspectives.

In Australia, the scant research relating to generosity that specifically references or engages Indigenous people does so with them positioned as beneficiaries of aid (see for example, Smyllie & Scaife, 2011). They are never considered as agents of generosity, which is problematic in at least two ways.

Stereotyping Indigenous communities as beneficiaries is a colonial echo

First, the practice of only considering Indigenous people as beneficiaries may stereotype them as low in status, high in need, and lacking agency. Arie Nadler and colleagues (e.g., Nadler, 2002; Nadler & Chernyak-Hai, 2014) have both argued and demonstrated that high-status groups sometimes give or help in ways that allow them to maintain power or status over disadvantaged groups. In this way, they “help” disadvantaged groups to stay where they are in the status hierarchy. Australia has a terrible history of active oppression of and discrimination against Indigenous communities. Scholarship that represents Indigenous people only as passive beneficiaries of other people’s generosity must be viewed through that historic lens. Doing so, we could view this as just one more way to oppress Indigenous communities.

Sana’s own experiences of being the beneficiary of philanthropic gifts as a university student reflect these ideas. Though her scholarships were genuinely life changing, and warmly welcomed, as she socialised with fundraisers and philanthropists she observed not only the different kinds of motivations that people have for giving, but also their assumptions about those they are giving to. The gift of education, understood as a silver bullet by some fundraisers and philanthropists, brought with it immense pressure to succeed, to ‘be good’, and a fear that failure would not just have an individual impact but could result in the loss of funding for future students and the wider community. 

One improvement would be if research that considered Indigenous peoples as beneficiaries of aid actually sought to engage those communities to understand their goals and desires as participants in giving exchanges. Cassandra’s Charitable Triad Theory posits that beneficiaries too are important actors in any kind of generosity exchange relationship: not only passive recipients but agents that shape and interact with donor groups and fundraiser organisations to facilitate helping. A first step would therefore be to listen to beneficiary groups as active participants in helping relationships (using Participatory Action Research methods, perhaps). But we should also go further.

Unique Indigenous generosity practices should be given voice

The second way that it is problematic that Indigenous people are only considered as recipients and not agents of generosity is that it occludes our understanding of what generosity behaviours are commonly practiced in Indigenous communities.

Aboriginal Australians have one of the oldest cultures on earth. Their worldviews and shared culture go back at least 60,000 years. In that time, these communities would have certainly developed sophisticated forms of generosity, which may look very different from the dominant Western forms we traditionally research. As far as we can tell, these perspectives are not well documented. We therefore call for research that seeks to understand indigenous generosity practices.

For example, though not formally documented in scholarship, we have observed that many Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities emphasise principles of reciprocity and balance in cultural protocols (similar to practices observed in some Indigenous communities in other parts of the world; e.g., Mauss, 2016). While the acts of giving may look familiar, the kinship, cultural, and even legal principles that underpin such practices may be unique. Indeed, even the terms “reciprocity” or “balance” reflect distinct ethical values that might inform acts of giving, distinct from notions of “charity” or even “generosity” in the way that we are using it here. Even beyond improving our understanding of the traditional meanings and practices of generosity, the colonial impact itself is likely to have shaped attitudes to giving. Practices of mutual aid within communities, for example, may be understood as more trustworthy and reciprocal compared to, for example, accepting a scholarship to university and all the pressures that go with that.

In New Zealand, perspectives of Māori are more well documented as there is a thriving tradition of Māori scholarship that looks at how Māori engage in formal generosity behaviours like volunteering and organ donation (e.g., Lewis & Pickering, 2003; Phibbs et al, 2015). The Māori culture is one of sharing that prioritises support within the whānau (extended family). Māori commonly engage in “mahi aroha”: work done out of love for the people (Cram, 2021). Because of this, informal generosity may be more common among Māori than formal practices like donations of money through organisations or formal volunteering (i.e., the kinds of generosity that research has prioritised understanding).

One implication of sharing and mutual support being a fundamental part of a culture is that generosity may not perceived as special or noteworthy. In individualistic and capitalistic Western cultures, generosity is remarkable because it goes against the grain: if the accumulation of personal wealth is the cultural aspiration, then giving resources away (time or money) is a signal of radical goodness and worthy of note. There can be immense social cachet in doing so, and such acts may accrue material or reputational rewards. But in communal cultures where sharing is the norm there may not be social rewards for engaging in generosity (though perhaps there may be social penalties for not engaging). It may even be that those acts of giving are acts of responsibility, akin to paying taxes. The motivational forces that promote generosity may therefore be very different across these different cultures.

Let’s do better, folks

In sum, we acknowledge a unique cultural context down under: one that includes diverse Indigenous communities and nations who have been traditionally excluded from scholarship on generosity. Due to a legacy of colonisation that prioritises individualistic, capitalistic Western perspectives, research on generosity has focused on formal exchanges or gifts of items that can be financially valued (money, time, goods). We know that this is not the only way to think about generosity. We call for inclusive research—conducted by Indigenous scholars, incorporating Indigenous perspectives, and folding in a richer understanding of what generosity could mean. Our observation is that when we write of generosity in the academy, we write of an idea that cannot speak of or speak to the experiences of Indigenous peoples in the place we live. And we believe that together we can do better.

-Cassandra Chapman and Sana Nakata

Cassandra Chapman is an Associate Professor of Marketing and ARC DECRA Fellow at the University of Queensland, specialised in donor psychology and fundraising. Her work has appeared in numerous journals, including Nonprofit and Voluntary Sector Quarterly, Psychology & Marketing, and the Journal of Business Ethics. Associate Professor Sana Nakata is a Principal Research Fellow at the Indigenous Education and Research Centre at James Cook University. A Torres Strait Islander, she is the author and editor of multiple books, including Childhood Citizenship, Governance and Policy (Routledge, 2015).