When your charity data is good but you still feel bad

Do you increasingly hear in trustee meetings someone saying, “Well, the data says…”?

And they are absolutely right, especially when we are faced with geopolical or economic shocks and uncertanty as we currently are. Thanks to AI, it is easy for any trustee to get data and economic facts stretching back to 1087 with a click of a mouse. Most economic and market data, thankfully, is not a secret. But there comes a moment with most charities when one realises that the data is not the problem. It is the clever people who interpret the data where it starts to go wrong.

Investment consultants everywhere have access to the same AI, numbers and love to reproduce the data in twelve shades of moral superiority. There are dashboards, tables and graphs that glow with the quiet confidence of a Swiss boarding school education, benchmarked and gently perfumed. The problem is there is a distinct difference between many consultants’ interpretation of the accessible data and their clients. Sit a charity investor down in a comfortable chair and ask them how they feel about their endowment strategy and you will discover something far more thrilling than EBITDA or an information ratio. This leads to dysfunctionality.

The numbers are the easy bit, but what’s harder and far more human is what those numbers mean for people who care deeply about their charitable cause. Trustees are not trying to beat an index for sport. They are trying to steward something precious. A mission, an endowment or a legacy. A responsibility that often keeps them awake at 3am wondering whether they are being too cautious or not cautious enough.

The more we think about AI and pattern recognition, which is a tremendous advantage to general accumulated knowledge, the more we realise that information isn’t the differentiator. We are swimming in information. What matters is the interpretation of the data and then gentle counselling. Not counselling in the lie down on the sofa sense. More in meaning of “let’s take a breath and look at this properly”.

Because responding to this dysfunctionality, especially the philanthropic variety, is rather like learning to tango with a particularly intelligent octopus. At first it is chaos. Then you begin to see patterns. Eventually, you develop what polite academics calls ‘cognitive understanding’ and what the rest of us recognise as pattern recognition with manners.

There is a certain belief that charity trustees are not good with investing money. We strongly disagree and know it gets easier with experience. At first, every wobble feels like a crisis. Every market dip feels personal. Over time, though, patterns emerge. You begin to recognise the familiar rhythms of fear and exuberance. You realise that most anxiety is simply uncertainty looking for reassurance.

AI can help with the pattern spotting. It can process more data than any of us ever could. But it cannot sit at a trustee table and say, kindly, “This is uncomfortable, but it is also normal.” That part is still wonderfully human.

The real hallmark of good stewardship, if we’re allowed a modest nod, is not having cleverer spreadsheets. It’s translating the facts in a way that supports your mission. It’s helping trustees connect performance, purpose and practical action without feeling either foolish or reckless.

It’s less about dazzling insight and more about quiet follow through. Fewer fireworks, more fortitude. After a lifetime of investing for charities, we have noticed our collective understanding expands, conversations become calmer. We are thankful for AI, we embrace it as we recognise patterns more quickly and with less panic, spending more time asking the right questions.

As a result, we dispense with intense and confusing language and ask questions which we hope are handled with a little humour and a lot of humility. We find trustees tend to relax and when trustees relax, decisions improve.

In the end everyone should embrace AI, and consultants of which Yoke is one, cannot outsmart the market. Our job is to help serve your mission wisely with confidence or caution when required, but just enough perspective to remember that uncertainty is not a moral failing.

And if everyone leaves that trustee meeting feeling a little clearer, a little steadier and perhaps even slightly amused by the whole enterprise, that’s a good outcome and exactly why we established Yoke in the first place.