Scenario: Nonprofit A has a rich history lobbying for environmental causes in the United States and, to some extent, worldwide. The agency has been generously funded in the past, but annual giving has dropped off considerably in recent years, in large part because of cutbacks in the development office and a scarcity of volunteers. Still, the future beckons, and the executive director insists it's time for a capital campaign.

Scenario: Nonprofit B, a healthy, private university, is situated in the hub of a rapidly growing high-tech corridor, surrounded by young entrepreneurs, many of whom have made their first million before their first signs of gray hair. "There's a heckuva lot of money around us," leaders of the institution rightfully note. "Maybe we should conduct a capital campaign."

Scenario: Nonprofit C has crafted a well-documented response to the crisis of at-risk children and youth nationwide. It's a genuine need that stirs hearts and sets teard ducts in motion. Yet the organization continues to live on the edge fiscally, unable to attract the level of funding necessary to expand current programming and take on new initiatives. With a cause as critical as ours, board members agree, it's time to launch, you guessed it, a capital campaign.

None of these story lines is uncommon in today's philanthropic marketplace. Each of these nonprofit institutions has assets to draw from, but none has the full set of holdings needed to assure a successful campaign. It may take only two to tango, but it takes three key components--cause, constituency, and competent leadership--to make good at the Big Dance.

That's the model used by Marts & Lundy's president, Charlie Howland, as he consults with a wide variety of not-for-profit clients across the country. It's a model he believes "demystifies" the process of fund-raising and allows institutions to dispassionately assess their prospects for a favorable outcome. Howland works with clients in part by guiding them through a process that examines: 1) the need, 2) the constituency, and 3) the "engines," those staff, board members, and volunteers who personify the institution's capacity to solicit the identified constituency.

"All sorts of nonprofits are rushing into capital campaigns without first taking a serious look at their capacities in all three of these areas," Howland notes. "Some have identified a needfor a new building, an expanded endowment, a new scholarship fund, you name it--but they've not done the hard work of planning and positioning themselves to succeed."

"Another common reason for jumping into a campaign," he adds, "is the perceived strength of the economy. A lot of nonprofits have adopted the attitude that basically says, 'Let's put up the sails while the winds are blowing' I'm not looking to take the wind out of their sails, but I aim to help institutions look realistically at what they can expect to accomplish."

Howland, a Marts & Lundy staff member since 1986 and a former major gifts officer at his alma mater, Yale University, uses his model to challenge clients to answer the tough questions and move beyond a giddy, knee-jerk response to one or two favorable conditions. A fuller assessment of campaign readiness is as follows:

The Need

Institutions must engage in a thoughtful strategic planning process that shows they have carefully assessed future needs and responded accordingly. They should give priority to those needs deemed most critical, considering they may not be able to finance everything. The next step is to price those needs, culminating in a realistic assessment of all costs. (Howland seeks to avoid what he calls "goal creep" in a campaign, the result of inadequate estimating up front.) Lastly, institutions need to pre-sell their case to constituentsprior to launching a campaign.

"I like to see institutions that have produced a three- to five-year strategic plan, even a 10-year plan," Howland says. "It's important to show that short-term needs fit into a long-term construct. Philanthropists these days are approached by many more causes than in the past. As a result, they're holding even their favorite causes up to greater scrutiny. Institutions are under great pressure to prove the need and state their case."

Just as some nonprofits take shortcuts in the planning process, or virtually bypass it completely, Howland warns that others get caught in an endless cycle of planning and evaluatingand not moving ahead. A campaign feasibility study, he believes, pushes an institution to either move forward or backtrack and tend to issues that need attention. "The feasibility study can force a halt to the perpetual planning mode," according to Howland. "It either signals a green light to proceed with a campaign or sends a red or yellow light to those not ready."

Regardless of the feasibility study's findings, it is key for an institution to communicate its needs before deciding on a campaign. The announcement of a campaign should not be the first time constituents learn about institutional needs. "It's important for the institution to keep its closest constituents well informed," Howland says. "There should be no surprises." In other words, promote the sizzle--the need, the vision, the excitement. When the time comes to go public with a campaign, then show the steakthe listing of campaign goals and priorities, the leadership, the results to date, etc.

The Constituency

The need has been outlined, the case carefully laid out. So where will the financial support come from? It's a question that cuts to the chase, one that forces nonprofits to systematically identify their core constituents, determine where the wealth lies, and gauge the strength of the institution's relationships with prospective donors. Key questions: Which individuals, foundations, corporations, etc., will play meaningful roles in funding our mission? Is the constituency aware of our needs and motivated by our plan or vision? Is our institution a giving priority for these prospects?

"I can't predict the exact mix of funding sources for any one client," Howland notes. "But I do know that if people in the room believe that a large percentage of the money they raise will come from, say, corporations, then they're being led astray. It just isn't going to happen. In most cases, the majority of the funding will come from individuals, persons who give because of passion for, and involvement in, a cause. Those aren't the same factors that necessarily drive corporate giving, or even foundation giving."

Measuring the extent of the relationship with different constituents allows institutions to develop realistic campaign expectations. Howland drives home his point by citing the growing number of billionaires across the U.S. "If a client is thinking about the possibility of securing a large commitment from one of these extraordinarily wealthy individuals--and they're in many of our communities I'll ask, 'Who in your institution has a relationship with this person?' If the answer is, 'No one,' and it often is, I'll ask, 'Then why would you expect a gift from him or her'"

When it's clear that relationships with constituents need nurturing, Howland suggests that clients outline a series of next steps to build bridges. These might include one-on-one visits, consultation dinners hosted by the chief executive officer, or developing a "planning commission" as a way of involving leadership not serving on the board. "If nothing else, it's important for clients to see the building of relationships as their responsibility. No consultant can do that for them."

The 'Engines'

The vehicle may be shiny and sleek, the tires rugged and "performance enhancing," but it takes an engine to get the car out of the garage. That metaphor carries over to capital campaign planning, with the "engines" representing those within the institution--top administrators, development officers, other staff, board members, and volunteerspoised to present the case to the constituency.

It's not as simple as it seems. Picture a pie chart divided in three parts, labeled "need," "constituency" and "engines." As Howland brings clients through this process, the slice of the pie with the least amount of substance often tends to be the "engines." He looks for evidence within the institution of strong management, experienced fund-raising staff and adequate fund-raising systems, and a committed board and/or volunteer committee. The presence of seasoned solicitors, and evidence of meaningful relationships with prospective donors, are essential.

Howland, along with several of his Marts & Lundy colleagues, invokes what the firm refers to as a "culture of philanthropy." This suggests that those institutions best positioned to attract philanthropic support have created an organization-wide atmosphere that fosters giving. In keeping with the engine motif, it's a sure sign of an institution firing on all cylinders. Another sign is an annual fund strategy that employs a face-to-face component. This gives staff and volunteer firsthand experience in soliciting gifts and builds a cadre of leaders who can be called on during a campaign.

"The point is, you can have all the need in the world, and plenty of money within your constituencies, but if you don't have the engines to make it go, you don't have a campaign. Likewise, you can have the need and the engines, but if there's no money in the constituency, there's still no campaign. And if you don't have a well-stated response to a need . . . The fact is, two out of three don't make it in this business."

THE CHALLENGE TO A CONSULTANT working with this model, Howland insists, is to refrain from "cookie-cutter" approaches and search out opportunities for creativity, innovation, and a customized response. In all of this, he says, the consultant must serve as the institution's greatest critic. "Only after we've worked with the client to come up with a plan--and to assess its capacity to execute that plan--can we turn into coaches and cheerleaders. If we start out as cheerleaders, we haven't done our due diligence and we haven't earned our keep."