Creating Change from Within

I've often spoken on The Changebase about social entrepreneurs who've chosen to radically reinvent how business creates social change in our communities and around the world. Organizations like Kiva (microfinance), Carrotmob (conscious consumerism), and Frontline SMS (information access through technology) have literally re-drawn the lines when it comes to creating sustainable, empowered and effective change through grass-roots social entrepreneurship.

While the importance of these examples can't be overstated, if we only focus on social entrepreneurs we actually miss an entire population of changemakers who want to have an impact but can’t quit their day jobs.

What can these people do to create change in their communities and their environment, without reinventing the wheel?

Enter social intrapreneurship – a new movement centered around creating progress internally at existing organizations.

Ok, so this is an interesting concept, you might say. But what does this look like in practice?

From what I hear, it’s all about baby steps - that is, starting small and growing big. Maybe it’s just me but it seems everywhere I turn I hear stories of employees who mobilized themselves and insisted on small initial changes like improved recycling at their corporate office, company incentives for using public transportation, or time off to volunteer in the community. And from there the social intrapreneurship momentum just grew. 

Another example: I recently had the chance to speak with someone in global citizenship at eBay, and I asked her what she thought made the company’s green efforts so successful. While she agreed with me that senior leadership buy-in is important, she pointed first to eBay’s employees as the single biggest driving force in creating change in the company.

It just so happens that much of their CSR efforts actually got started by a group of forty employees who came together to talk about little ways they could “green” the company – and from there it just snowballed. Now, more than 2000 employees in 23 countries are part of eBay’s Green Team – talk about a perfect example of real-life social intrapreneurship!

As a growing wave of MBA students (myself included) begins to dip their toes into the job hunt water, I find eBay’s story of creating change from within particularly inspiring. I know I want to work in CSR and sustainability, but I also know that these jobs are often really hard to find. If eBay's social intrapreneurship story tells us anything, it's that making change isn’t just about your job title or even your job function. No matter where any of us lands after graduation, we can each be changemakers in our organizations. And all it takes are some baby steps.

And that goes for all of you non-MBA students too!

It turns out that this isn't the first time I've extolled the virtues of social intrapreneurship. In fact, I was recently interviewed by my school, Boston University School of Management, as part of a promotional video meant to show prospective applicants how MBAs use their degrees to create change. Since I talk about social intrapreneurship in the clip, I thought I'd include it.

First up is BU Finance professor Yrjo Koskinan, then my classmate Susie Keane, and then me (I’m roughly two minutes and thirty seconds into the video).

Enjoy my 15 minutes of fame! 

And going forward, ask yourself: how can I be a social intrapreneur and create change from within my own organization, school, or community?

High Risk, High Reward

I’ve mentioned in previous posts on The Changebase that, in many ways, my MBA experience has made me feel a bit like a fish out of water. With my non-profit background and change-the-world goals, it’s not surprising that I have had some serious growing pains associated with learning new ways of thinking about and solving business problems.

Funny enough, my favorite learning experiences in school have been when I could relate what I was learning about business with what I knew to be true from my work in the social sector.

Here’s a good, albeit slightly roundabout, example: over the last couple of months a number of my classes have delved into the topic of venture capital – both from an investor and entrepreneur perspective. Now, as someone who practically grew up on Sand Hill Road, the venture capital culture of Silicon Valley is one that I am very familiar with. Still, beyond a very superficial understanding of what VCs do, I didn’t know much about the field before this semester.

Forgive me if this is incredibly naïve of me to say, but it turns out that venture capital is all about making money. I mean, REALLY BIG MONEY.

And how do these VCs make this money? They take risks. Nowhere is the saying “high risk, high reward” more applicable than in VC country.

I've also learned in class that the relationship venture capitalists have with entrepreneurs is an interesting, and some would say, delicate one. On the one hand, the two parties presumably should partner together to execute a winning business strategy and deliver an innovative product or service to the market.

On the other hand, as new majority-stake owners (which is what VCs become when they fund an entrepreneur’s company), the VC has little interest in anything beyond a successful exit strategy that will make him or her millions (if not billions, if you’re lucky enough to invest in the next Google or eBay).

All of this really hit home for me recently when I participated in a venture capital simulation for my entrepreneurial management class.

Picture this: me and my classmate, sitting in a small, windowless room with a “real” venture capitalist trying to negotiate a fake $30M term sheet for a new start-up we’d just created. Let me repeat: the money was fake but everything else was real: real VC, real term sheet, and a very tough, very real negotiation. In fact, at each stage of the negotiation he forced us to fight tooth and nail for any concessions we wanted him to make. Why was he so tough on us?  

Because – just as I’ve learned in class – there was money to be made in the deal and he wanted to make sure that, in the end, his slice of the pie was as big as possible. Remember, high risks and high rewards.

Ok, so you’re probably asking yourself – what’s the point? Why are we talking about venture capital on The Changebase?

Here’s the deal: it's perhaps a silly analogy but just like bees, cross-pollination between the for-profit and nonprofit sectors is happening everywhere. As businesses become more concerned with social responsibility and corporate citizenship, nonprofits are also warming up to the idea of creating revenue-generating models to ensure sustainability of their programs and operations. The social is becoming the financial, so to speak. And nowhere is this cross-pollination more obvious than in the area of Venture Philanthropy (seriously, even the name is a hybrid!).

More and more funders today are providing “VC-themed grantmaking” to social entrepreneurs looking for capital. Organizations like Echoing Green serve as “angels” to social enterprise leaders; Ashoka and Skoll Foundation provide early-stage funds to change-oriented start-ups; and New Profit assists more mature nonprofits and social ventures as they grow to scale. Each one has taken its cues from the venture capital world while tweaking its strategies and funding models to meet the needs of the social enterprise sector.

When I first heard about it, I thought this whole concept of venture philanthropy was pretty cool – and I still do. After all, it’s a no-brainer that social entrepreneurs need the same access to funding, support, and guidance that regular entrepreneurs have, and these organizations provide those services.

But if I go back to what I’ve learned in class about venture capital, that’s when I start getting confused. If venture capital is about taking risks and making money, doesn’t it seem a little backwards to look to that industry for cues on how to fund a sector whose primary goal has never been just financial?

Moreover, when I think about my experience at the negotiating table, I wonder: how do these social enterprise funders treat their entrepreneurs? Is it an adversarial relationship, like I experienced in the simulation? Or a more collaborative partnership?

Interestingly, the organizations that fund social enterprise start-ups may not be buying equity like VCs, but they certainly are taking risks. In fact, one might argue that they’re taking even more risks than traditional venture capitalists, given that they’re investing in people and organizations with truly revolutionary, world-changing ideas.

Maybe for these funders it’s more about “high risk, high social reward”?

What do you think about the world of venture capital being applied to social enterprise? Does the same language apply? And do organizations like Echoing Green actually take on more risk when they bet on entrepreneurs whose ideas can have an impact on people, and not just on the balance sheet?

I don’t have the answer, so I’d love to know what you think.

Choosing Between Trade-offs

For those of you who read my last post on The Changebase, you know that I recently signed up to go to Brazil in January. The trip, organized by the Boston University School of Management, focuses on issues of sustainability, CSR, and social enterprise in the developing country. It sounds like an incredible journey and an amazing way to experience Brazilian life and culture firsthand. How does that saying go, something about the best laid plans? I’m sad to say that no sooner had I hit the ‘submit’ button on that blog post, announcing my exciting plans for Brazil, the financial realities of this trip set in.

As a former “nonprofiteer” interested in pursuing change through social innovation and CSR, I have never really been focused on making a lot of money. The mission has been what mattered (at least mostly – I mean, let’s be honest: the paycheck was nice!). But now, as an MBA set to graduate in May with a boatload of debt, my financial situation (and more specifically, my earning potential) is certainly top of mind.

I’ve often asked myself: how do I strike a balance between doing good in the world while also making enough money to live comfortably and provide for my family?

The mission-driven side of me says money shouldn’t matter. But the MBA side says, go for the paycheck.

Finding that balance is tricky, and the Brazil trip is just my own most recent example of the tradeoffs that every committed social entrepreneur and changemaker must make in their quest to do good and do well.

While I’m certainly not complaining – after all, figuring out whether I can afford to go to on this trip is what my family calls a “good problem to have” – it got me thinking about all of the talented and motivated people out there whose innovative ideas never got off the ground because of money. How many people with truly world-changing, yet unproven ideas never saw these ideas go anywhere because they lacked the financial resources to make them a reality?

Coincidentally, this week I had a great conversation with someone I met at The Feast who works at Echoing Green. For those of you who don’t know it, Echoing Green is a 22 year-old organization that provides start-up funding – and a support network – to social entrepreneurs in need of resources and guidance.

In essence, Echoing Green is working to ensure that social entrepreneurs with incredible ideas don’t lose out in the battle of trade-offs.

Here's a little bit of background on the social entrepreneurs that Echoing Green is supporting through their innovative funding and support network:

While I’m certainly not putting myself and my money woes on the same level as someone looking to cure disease, bring clean water to villages or improve our educational system, the essential decision-making process seems similar. If money were no object, I’d be on that plane to Brazil in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, money plays heavily in all of my decisions these days – which means this trip isn’t going to happen for me.

As disappointed as I am, this experience has been an important first lesson in what inevitably will be a long string of choosing between tradeoffs.

Is it possible to make money doing what I love? Can I find a job that allows me to make a positive impact, yet one that also provides the financial security I’m looking for? I know I'm not alone in asking these questions, and I guess only time will tell what the answer is.

In the end, I’m left wondering only one thing: Who’s hiring?!

Getting Our Hands Dirty

When I was a freshman in college, I rallied a group of new friends from my dorm to go volunteer one afternoon. It was early in the school year, and I wanted to prove to my hall-mates that community service was a fun, easy, low-impact sort of way to give back and feel good. Minimal commitment, quick pay-off, done-in-a-day – a perfect fit for college students!

The community service day was actually organized by my school, so once each of us signed up we were sent to work on different projects throughout the area. In hindsight, I don’t remember what project I worked on that day. But I do remember what one of my friends did. Assigned to clean up a children’s playground in a rough section of town, my friend was picking up trash when he felt something sharp prick his hand. It was a used hypodermic needle.

When I heard this news, I remember feeling as though my heart had stopped. Suddenly, this was no longer just a day of helping out “someone else’s” community.

It was a day of living in someone else’s reality.

Not to worry: everything worked out ok with my friend. But it’s a story worth telling for a few big reasons.

Often for me (and maybe for you, too?), wanting to help others means doing things that can sometimes feel uncomfortable, messy, scary, or overwhelming. After all, in order to really understand a problem (let alone figure out how to solve it), we have to get our hands dirty. And that can mean pushing ourselves beyond our comfort zones and into new, uncharted, and complicated territory.

Think about volunteering at a soup kitchen. I’ve gone to Glide Church in San Francisco a number of times to help out – and it’s an incredibly heart-warming and satisfying experience. Yet, I’d be lying if I said that working alongside with and for the homeless people eating at the kitchen didn’t also fill me with profound feelings of sadness, empathy, and maybe even a little discomfort. In just a few hours, the sobering reality of their situation had set in – and it’s a feeling I haven’t ever forgotten.

This is what I call being “checked in,” and I’d hazard a guess that truly effective changemakers must be really good at this. Why? In order to do our jobs – to make sure that our nonprofits, social enterprises, schools, hospitals and other community organizations are the best at what they do – we must understand what life looks like on the ground. We must pick up the rock in the dirt and look underneath.

But we can’t just stop there.

If we really want to get at the root of the problems we’re trying to solve, we have to understand the entire ecosystem that lives under that rock. And that can be a pretty messy job.

Another example: I’ve been given the opportunity to travel abroad for two weeks this winter with one of my MBA classes. The trip is focused on sustainability and corporate social responsibility initiatives and challenges currently being tackled in Brazil. On paper, it sounds like a perfect opportunity – a chance to pick up that rock and see with my own eyes just what’s going on underneath.

But it’s a little scary too. I’ve never been to Brazil, I don’t know what to expect. And this isn’t a tourist trip; this is a chance to be on the ground, to travel to the favelas, and learn about what life in Brazil looks like through the eyes of the Brazilian people. On the one hand, I’m thrilled by the opportunity. On the other hand, I’m definitely pushing the outer limits of my comfort zone, beyond any point I’ve been to before. 

A Favela, or Slum, in Sao Paolo, Brazil (Photo courtesy of Ciaran O'Neill, http://bit.ly/aTrbXu)

When I start to get overwhelmed, I try to think about my friend back in college. Yes, that was a frightening moment, one that I am sorry he had to go through. But it was also an experience that neither he nor I will probably ever forget. Why? Because it was real. It solidified the purpose of our day in the park, and it gave us a tangible reference point for going forward.

Each of us, in our quests to bring change to our communities, reaches the point at which it’s time to dig deep. Yes, this can mean getting our hands dirty, facing uncomfortable realities, and maybe even doing something that scares us.

But isn’t that what makes our work worth it?

You're Sure You Want to Eat That?

A couple of weeks ago, the folks I follow on Twitter (a terrific bunch of CSR and social enterprise experts) were all abuzz about a New York Times article that told the story of a young woman from Minnesota. What was all the fuss?

Well, it turns out that this woman, 22 year-old Stephanie Smith, ate a bad hamburger – made from E.coli-laden beef – and it paralyzed her.

We’ve all heard about E.coli and the illness it causes, but Stephanie’s story was shocking in its seriousness. While her case is extreme, she’s actually just one out of tens of thousands of people who have been sickened by 16 different E.coli outbreaks in just the last three years alone.

In addition to the article, the NY Times made a 9-minute video that chronicles her story – although I wasn’t able to embed it here, you can visit their site and watch it yourself (I highly recommend it).

This story hit home for me on a few different levels.

On a professional level, I am very interested in sustainability and specifically the ways in which businesses can demonstrate their commitment to corporate citizenship through positive environmental action. Given the fact that livestock production is the greatest contributor to greenhouse gas emissions in America, I have spent quite a bit of time considering just how broken this system of production really is, as well as what can be done to reduce the industry’s environmental impact going forward.

On a personal level, however, food production is important to me because I want to be conscious of what I put in my body. Marketers know that consumers (especially those labeled “green”) are most concerned with products that go “in me, on me or around me” – and food definitely falls into this category. Thus I try to be as educated as I can about where my food comes from, and use my wallet to show support of businesses that operate in ways that align with my values.

Interestingly, on an academic level, this story was also very relevant. One of my MBA courses this semester focuses on corporate governance, accountability and ethics – an area of interest that’s now increasingly important in the wake of last year’s financial crisis.

In fact, Stephanie’s story serves as a real-life example of irresponsible corporate governance gone unchecked.

In class I’ve learned that good governance is related to two important concepts: leadership and accountability. These are two factors that seem to be largely undervalued not only in Stephanie’s case but in our meat industry as a whole.

Cargill, the company that sold the infected meat to Stephanie and other consumers, is America’s largest private company. The fact that it is private is crucially important: Unlike its public counterparts, Cargill is not required to disclose information about its governance structure nor its financial health to the general public. Why does this matter? Plenty of companies are private, right? Sure – but when the company in question is responsible for providing food to millions of Americans, the issue becomes more concerning.

What about Cargill’s meat suppliers? In Stephanie’s case, four different companies supplied meat products to Cargill, including one in Uruguay! As the NY Times article found, not only are standards for hygiene and safety often very lax at these places, but management at these companies often have unwritten agreements not to test their product for food-borne illness for fear of losing business!

And where is the USDA in all of this? It turns out that in many cases the USDA knew that Cargill was violating safety standards but did nothing about it.

Ok, this is the point at which I must admit that a lot of my information is based on this one article about this one woman. How can I assume that this one example of irresponsible and reckless behavior is indicative of the entire beef industry, its suppliers and even the USDA? Well, I can’t.

What I can say is that, after learning more about where our food comes from, and the ways in which animals are treated in this production system – well, it really doesn’t seem like that much of a stretch.

Plus, couldn’t we argue that just one example of egregious misconduct on the part of these entities is enough of an example of corporate governance, accountability and leadership gone awry? If this can happen to one woman, isn’t that enough?

In my opinion, Cargill and its industry colleagues sit atop an unsafe, irresponsible supply chain that puts profits and mass production ahead of consumer safety and ethical production.

Many questions remain for me: Who really is steering the ship at Cargill, and to whom are they accountable? What is the incentive for Cargill and its suppliers to act in ways that protect consumers and mitigate the risk of lawsuits and other legal actions? And, if the USDA cannot enforce a set of standards for safety in meat, what other harmful substances are making their way into the foods we eat? How can consumers possibly protect themselves?

For Stephanie Smith, though, the answers are clear: “In the simplest terms, she ran out of luck in a food-safety game of chance whose rules and risks are not widely known”[i].

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[i] “E.Coli Path Shows Flaws in Beef Inspection,” published online 10/3/09 by www.nytimes.com. Retrieved online 10/3/09.