Post-Covid Nonprofit Arts V: Shedding Egos and Empowering the Tribe

About 5 years ago, there premiered a post-apocalyptic television show that was based in their near future - the year 2020. In it, a deadly virus had recently caused a global pandemic. First one, then ultimately a few asymptomatic carriers were spared to a life searching for others like them. Entire large cities had no people in them. No one on the roads. No information system. It brought to Sunday night network television the kind of bleak, desperate, oh-this-couldn’t-possibly-happen hellscape usually reserved for Mad Max or The Day After Tomorrow. In the year 2020, within the story, the virus is real and billions have died hideous, painful, wretched deaths.

It was a comedy.

It was called The Last Man on Earth. It ran 4 absurdly funny seasons. Which is probably why FOX cancelled it one season too soon. Dark? Yes. Over-the-top? Often. But remarkably, surprisingly dead-on, pun intended. Here is the original trailer:

Don’t worry. There are lots of people in the show.

The Irony-Free Police (IFP) was not amused by using a global pandemic as a backdrop to laughs. In fact, there are those reading this right now who have been made angry by the content. But not to worry, we will soldier on because there is a Post-Covid point to all of this, especially for arts organizations.

One of the key points of “The Last Man on Earth” is that it takes less effort than one might think to create a tribe during your average existential crisis.

Even with -- and often despite -- diversities within diversities, the show’s merry band of asymptomatic death carriers moves forward toward a hopeful, yet apocalyptic future. Indeed, after so much death and horror, the gallows humor of and by the group allows for members to die without the group becoming obsolete. Tribes thrive because of their members’ intermittent ability to shed their personal egos for the sake of the group.

It is the ability to shed ego that will save the nonprofit arts community in the wake of this pandemic. That and a short memory.

I met with 3 different nonprofit arts tribes this past week. There was one that was musically oriented and two that were theatrically oriented. Mostly I listened, though it was important at times to help these folks get out of their respective heads and consider that the public does not immediately separate one nonprofit arts group (of any category) from another as much as we would think. Sadly, even though there is ample evidence to the contrary, most nonprofit arts leaders in each group believed that their organization had a discreet fan base and that the public would miss their contribution to society.

In each discussion, after the requisite and interminable “This is what we’re doing” phase, there seemed to be an ego-driven need for each organization to remain separate, despite what the public may want. To paraphrase one participant in one of the Zooms:

Our audiences overwhelmingly wanted a package that included performances from other arts organizations, so we collaborated with a few of them, created a variety package, and it just about sold out.

The public did not value any of the single organizations within the package, but valued the experience the variety pack promised.

The logic here presents the case for merger. If several tiny, struggling nonprofit arts organizations cannot make it on their own programming and mission alone, then maybe a collection of similar efforts could gain more impact.

Let’s face it. A whole passel of arts organizations are going to die because of the virus. This is neither a hopeless statement nor a statement meant to spur action. It just is. But our merry band of nonprofit arts organizations’ missions will continue if egos are checked at the door.

Yeah, I know that’s asking a lot. Arts organizations, right?

In each Zoom Room, when I broached the subject of merging in order to create more powerful entities, there was significant blow-back. Pardon me for saying so, but several leaders mollycoddled other leaders by inferring that the notion of merging was really an idea of creating new official associations of nonprofits to which these groups could become members. I certainly could not have meant actual mergers, right?

Actually, that was exactly what I meant.

Harking back to a previous article, “Is It About the Car Wash, or the Car Getting Cleaned?” what is more important to the community? Is it more important that the work is done, or is it more important that you’re the ones doing it? And if the answer is the former, is a discreet nonprofit really the best way of competing in a crowded nonprofit market?

Studies have indicated that there already were way too many nonprofits in parts of the US, irrespective of (and prior to) the pandemic, negatively impacting each specified region.

If the area is dominated by either all-small organizations or all-large ones, lower fiscal health due to higher expenses and administrative costs is likely.

It is important for cities/regions like my own, Seattle, to recognize that the evolution of the nonprofit arts scene has taken us to a point where there are some large (and potentially viable, but not in all cases) organizations, a skosh more small (and potentially viable, but not in all cases) organizations, and not much else. Do not be mistaken - there are literally hundreds of nonprofit arts organizations in the region of every stripe. But it is important to note that the funding machine often only has found room to appropriately fund a select few.

As companies close...which they will...honest...not kidding here...no tagbacks...we neither have the luxury nor the energy to grieve their passing for any longer than a minute. Think of it this way (a quote from an old friend about Broadway):

Every show that has ever opened on Broadway has closed, except for the ones that are open right now.

Broadway shows close, even in the best of times. Even those with huge fan bases. Even those that made millions for their investors. Effective ones leave lifelong impacts.

And so do arts organizations, even in the best of times. Even those with huge fan bases. Even those that provided millions of dollars and hundreds of jobs for their communities. Effective ones leave lifelong impacts.

Given that, what are the ideas to consider? Shouldn’t we serve the community by assuming that each one of us is going to succumb? After all, that’s why we wear masks -- they are an assumption that the wearer has the virus and meant to protect the community.

Taking that idea one more step, shouldn’t we take every action to make sure that our missions thrive, even if someone else is executing it? Simon Sinek would opine that the “Why?” of one organization is a selfless enterprise, except in the sense that accomplishing that “Why?” is central to executing a nonprofit’s raison d’être.

Let’s put it another way. You are sitting on a park bench. You are sitting next to a stranger. Ten feet away, a baby appears in a stroller with no parent nearby. The stroller just rolls to that spot. The baby is crying. Wailing.

You have successful children. You raised them better than any other parent has ever raised a child. This is accepted fact from the community-at-large, not just a boast.

You have food for the baby, which you show to the stranger and everyone in the park. It is the best food. The stranger takes it and feeds the baby.

You have diapers for the baby, which you show to the stranger and everyone in the park. They are the best diapers. The stranger takes it and changes the baby.

Further, the stranger takes the stroller and rocks it gently, getting the baby to relax and enjoy the park.

The baby’s mother comes sprinting down a hill toward you both, having lost control of the stroller as it barrelled its way down to its current spot. She is grateful... to whom? The person with the best baby supplies, or the people who took care of her baby?

The future is not going to be the past. After this portion of the world order changes, there will only be room for the unselfish arts organizations willing to sacrifice everything -- up to and including their very existence -- in order to move forward and make the most positive impact. If your mission is worth accomplishing, then it is worth accomplishing by someone else.

If that happens, do not be jealous. Be happy. It will mean that your mission was worthy of success.

Alan Harrison is a writer, father, performer, nonprofit executive, artist, blogger and impresario (in no particular order). He has led, produced, directed, promoted, raised money for, starred, and failed in over 300 theatrical productions on and Off-Broadway and at prestigious (and not so prestigious) nonprofit arts organizations across the country. He’s also a two-time Jeopardy! champion so, you know, there’s that. The arts invoke passion (mostly from artists), but nonprofit arts are only successful when they result in measurably positive change among those that need it most. When a nonprofit’s donors are also its recipients, then its mission is meaningless puffery, flapdoodle and codswallop.