Philanthropy

In an age when private enterprise is venturing into such traditionally public arenas as education and prison management, philanthropy has become the latest activity to lure profit makers. Fidelity Investment's Charitable Gifts Fund--a hybrid that is part mutual fund, part foundation--is suddenly the hottest player in the good-works business. Last year it was America's largest grant-making charity.

Amid all the brands of toilet paper, paper towels and trash bags, Scott Paper Co.'s Helping Hand does seem different. The package logo says, "Every time you buy Helping Hand, you help children with special needs," and a back panel explains that a nickel from each purchase goes into a fund for six charities fighting children's diseases. Even cynics are intrigued. They have their suspicions about commercial promotions, but they buy. "I need garbage bags anyway," says a Los Angeles shopper.

Robert Erburu, who retired in January as chairman of Times Mirror Co., parent company of the Los Angeles Times, will be honored for his contributions to philanthropy on Nov. 15 at the Beverly Hilton Hotel in Beverly Hills. Erburu will be named outstanding volunteer on National Philanthropy Day, which is sponsored by the local chapter of the National Society of Fund-Raising Executives and supported by a number of other organizations.

When the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation pledged $1 billion last month to send 20,000 minority scholars to college, Gates confounded many who view him in one dimension--as the Darth Vader behind software's evil empire of ruthless mediocrity. Whatever your opinion of Microsoft, it seems clear that Gates may make good on his assertions that ultimately he will give away most of his fortune. With more than $17 billion, his foundation is already the nation's largest.

Perhaps Bill Gates will indeed become the Andrew Carnegie of the Information Age and use his great fortune to endow a new era of access to multimedia libraries worldwide. Maybe billionaire financier George Soros will see his foundations' efforts to enhance democracy in Central Europe and drug policy in America profoundly transform their civic politics. And maybe Ted Turner really will make a difference in the direction of the planet with his recent U.N. contribution.

Philanthropist Laurance Rockefeller, $11.3 million; potato chip entrepreneur Jim Herr, $10.8 million; Orange County builder Peter Ochs, $3.2 million. Who's who in the business world turned into who's missing millions Thursday in the wake of a bankruptcy declaration by the Foundation of New Era Philanthropy, which is accused of running a Ponzi scheme with a philanthropic appeal.

Anjali Gopalan depends on private donations to run her charity in New Delhi, which provides care for 380 orphans and families whose loved ones were killed or stricken by HIV/AIDS. She applauds the $200 million that Microsoft Corp. Chairman Bill Gates has provided for HIV/AIDS prevention and education in India, which dwarfs her government's entire budget for the disease. But Gopalan worries that getting support for the long-term care she is providing AIDS victims could soon be more difficult.

Jewish women give differently to charity than do Jewish men, according to a study reported in the journal Lilith. Susan Weidman Schneider, author of the article in the nonprofit independent Jewish women's quarterly, said she found that the "male model" for giving to Jewish causes emphasizes competition--a desire to outdo one's peers--while Jewish women interviewed said they give "to make a difference."

They are after his money. And why not? Percy Ross, the millionaire newspaper columnist, is giving it away. So they send him letters, about 1,000 a day. The poor need him to pay their rent, the lame their doctor bills. Brides want big weddings and teen-agers fast cars. A country singer in North Dakota needs bus fare to Nashville. God has told them to write, some of them say. Voices have whispered the name Percy Ross into their restless sleep.