Donors must change how they engage NGOs for India to achieve better social outcomes

My reflections are rooted in our learnings (and some mistakes) at the foundation I am part of. We currently support over 1,400 NGOs across the country, from new entities to well-established institutions. We receive over 300 formal grant requests every month. These numbers provide a large bed of experience to identify good practices and missteps.

This is an unsolicited note to fellow donors—philanthropic foundations, corporate social responsibility spenders and individuals—on how we can try to fulfil our roles better.

That role extends beyond approving financial grants. The core of it is to ensure that the process of getting such a grant is a minimal burden for organizations that already confront enormous challenges every day. I will not dwell on the question of what causes should be funded, but on the often-overlooked matter of how we fund them.

Consider the daily reality faced by the leadership of a typical non-profit. Leaders are asked to solve deep-rooted social problems while ensuring they can meet next month’s payroll. In this gruelling context, time and focused mental energy are scarcer than money.

The most significant practical support we can offer them is not just funding, but swift and clear decisions. Protracted uncertainty is a luxury they cannot afford, as it forces them into a state of suspended animation that hampers operations and creates immense strain.

Yet, this ability to decide quickly cannot be summoned by decree. It can only emerge from deep internal clarity. This has two dimensions.

First, a donor must possess an empathetic understanding of the specific domains it wishes to support, balanced with an equal appreciation of its own limitations so that it doesn’t start prescribing things to the NGO.

Broad categories like ‘education’ or ‘gender justice’ are merely a starting point. ‘Education’ can encompass running preschools in tribal hamlets, improving pedagogical practices in government schools and providing digital literacy in urban slums.

Each represents a distinct approach to change, demands a different set of capabilities and operates on a separate timeline. Moving from the generic to the precise is important, articulating not just the ‘what’ but also the ‘how’ of the work to be done.

The second dimension is procedural clarity. What are the steps a proposal takes within one’s organization? Are these well-defined, comprehensible and communicated in advance? Ambiguity here forces NGOs to navigate a labyrinth, expending precious energy on guesswork.

Achieving this dual clarity requires sustained effort. It is not a one-time exercise that can be accomplished in a conference room through data analysis. The organization’s core values and sense of purpose must be the test. Why do we exist? What change do we wish to see?

Perfect clarity is not possible, but a constant effort to hone it helps. The more we earnestly engage with ground realities—not as distant evaluators but as doers and learners—the clearer we will be.

The true test of internal clarity is whether it translates into simplicity for the grant-seeker. A complex process full of back-and-forth is often a symptom of deep confusion. We must have the courage to constantly question our own requirements.

Are the documents we request the simplest possible? Is each piece of information required for decision-making? The language we use is critical. What does the jargon of ‘logframes,’ ‘theories of change,’ ‘impact metrics,’ etc, actually mean in real life? The responsibility to explain what we do in clear and accessible language rests on our shoulders.

Beyond the need for speed and simplicity lies a more subtle but in many ways more powerful element: the tone of our engagement. We need to be conscious of the inherent power asymmetry in the donor-grantee relationship. We hold the resources; they are in need of them.

This structural reality places a profound ethical and professional responsibility on us to act with humility and respect. A patronising, self-righteous or purely transactional tone is corrosive. It undermines the dignity and agency of the very people who perform highly demanding work in frequently near-impossible circumstances.

This becomes most critical the moment we say ‘no.’ We should resist the impulse to tell NGOs how they should run their affairs, particularly if we have chosen not to fund them. We would have only seen a snapshot of their long and complex story, devoid of the deep context that has shaped their approach, choices and constitution. If an organization asks why its request was declined, it is potentially damaging and often inaccurate to critique its perceived shortcomings.

A more constructive and truthful response would be to explain that our specific criteria or focus did not align with its work. This is not an evasion; it is an acknowledgment of our own limitations and choices, and a recognition of the NGO’s autonomy. It preserves the dignity of the relationship and leaves the door open for future dialogue and connection.

Clarity, operational simplicity and a tone of equality, along with funding money, can go a long way to help NGOs invest their energies where they should: their own work. The onus is on donors.

The author is CEO of Azim Premji Foundation.