Wealthy people pay a fortune to look at the world's poorest people
David Thomas, The Daily Telegraph Today Online 29 Dec 07;
Ms Julie Toskan-Casale has just spent £10,000 ($30,200) on what is arguably the world's most exclusive travel experience — one that is never advertised and is available only to a select group personally approved by the tour's organisers.
Known to insiders as TPW — The Philanthropy Workshop — it is a cross between a conventional educational tour and a self-improvement cult.
Yes, that's right. There's an organisation that makes the rich pay a fortune to travel the world to look at poor people.
But TPW's customers, or rather "alumni", aren't examining the lives of the poor out of idle curiosity.
They're spending time in shanty towns, village schools and Aids clinics because they want to change the world, with their own money.
The Philanthropy Workshop began life in 1995 as an offshoot of the Rockefeller Foundation in New York, which wanted to pass on the lessons learnt in more than 80 years of charitable activity since its own creation by John D Rockefeller, founder of Standard Oil.
A pattern was set in which TPW participants get first-hand experience of impoverished, marginalised communities in the developed and developing world.
They meet charity workers, the people they serve, single-issue activists, political lobbyists, lawyers and legislators — Ms Hillary Clinton is among prominent figures to have given audiences to TPW.
In a daily series of debates and seminars, they are taught to think strategically, look at root causes rather than symptoms, seek opportunities for action that are not already being served and leverage their giving so that it has benefits far beyond its initial cash value.
Ms Julie Toskan-Casale is a co-founder of MAC cosmetics who sold her business to Estée Lauder in 1998.
"We'd just sold MAC and I was thinking: Okay, now what? What will make me feel as inspired as I did at MAC?"
Her answer came from the Aids foundation her company had set up in response to the disease that had swept the ranks of the make-up artists who were its core customers.
"The MAC Aids Foundation was the most satisfying part of the business," she said. "I wanted to do more, but I thought I wouldn't be effective. I didn't just want to be in an office signing cheques. I needed some direction."
She was not prepared for the emotional impact TPW would have.
"When we went to Buenos Aires, there we were in a five-star hotel, filled with women in fur coats," Ms Toskan-Casale said.
"Then, we got on an air-conditioned executive coach to go to shanty towns where kids were drinking water out of ditches and people were living in tin huts.
"I thought: I am going to spend the rest of my life making a difference.
"I felt horrible. I thought all the people in those huts should come and stay in my hotel room.
"I was devastated, but I spoke to other people at the workshop and found they were going through the same thing. It was really helpful to know that and had I not had that experience I wouldn't be where I am now.
"I know how unfair things are and how much change needs to happen."
She also knows whom to call if she needs help with her charitable work, because TPW has evolved into a powerful social and philanthropic network.
That network increasingly covers people of every age and nationality.
Ms Cynthia Wu is a 28-year-old student at the London Business School.
"My London life is very simple. I'm a student and I go to class," she said.
Well, not quite that simple.
Ms Wu's father is Taiwanese billionaire Wu Tung-chin, whose massive Shinkong Life insurance business sponsors the Shinkong Life Foundation, one of Taiwan's largest philanthropic organisations.
When she was just 24, Ms Wu became its executive director. She attended TPW in 2003 to get the expertise she would need to run the Shinkong Life Foundation.
In her first module, Ms Wu found herself plunged into the law courts of New York.
"One judge thinks jail sentences do more damage than help," she said.
"He mentioned a case of a black girl who'd been badly neglected by her parents.
"When she was 11, she'd opened the front door and there was her father. He asked her to fetch her mother. When the mother arrived, the father spilled acid on her face and cut her up.
"The girl ended up in a gang and hooked on drugs. Now, she's a lap dancer, completely clean — a professional like any other, making a good income — a healthy, confident young lady.
"It's a hopeful story — in a strange and twisted way."
TPW has its own etiquette.
"We never actually talked about money," said Mr Hugh Davidson, 71, a native of the Isle of Man.
"People don't show off, saying: 'My foundation's bigger than yours or walk about in designer clothing. That's not the culture at all," said Mr Davidson, who founded a management consultancy and had written several textbooks on successful management.
He attended TPW in 2003 after he retired and wanted help in running his own, relatively modest foundation.
For him, the workshop is a perfect way to meet like-minded individuals.
All three mentioned have used their experiences at TPW in their own philanthropy.
Ms Toskan-Casale runs a Youth Philanthropy Initiative programme in Canada helping secondary-school pupils get actively involved in charity work in their own communities.
Ms Wu has radically reshaped the Shinkong Foundation and produced an award-winning documentary on Aids, which has generated more than US$1 million ($1.4 million) in donations and helped change attitudes in conservative Taiwanese society towards the disease.
Mr Davidson is running education programmes in both the UK and the developing world. For him, The Philanthropy Workshop represents the best possible use for the money he has earned.
"For some people, the TPW is a life-changing experience. It really does make you think about life: Whether you've got it right; whether you should change. It leads you to think about the real fundamentals, which is great," Mr Davidson said. — THE DAILY TELEGRAPH
