By RUSSELL ARBEN FOX
Insight Kansas
Kansas cities, like all American cities—including all the blue ones that our new president regularly attacks—are not radical places.
They may have more Democratic voters than the state’s rural counties, and those voters may prefer more egalitarian policies than will ever pass in Topeka, but their economies are just as dependent upon capitalism as the state and country as a whole.
There are exceptions, though.
For example, unlike the Kansas and United States governments, Kansas city governments are legally forbidden from making use of direct income taxes as a revenue tool. This is the case for most cities across the country (though not Missouri cities, incidentally), and is one reason why American municipalities compete to attract corporate investment: growing their property and sales tax base is often their only way to fund services.
Some cities do, however, have an additional source of revenue: local philanthropists.
Wealthy people and businesses have, of course, used their resources to benefit society throughout history; Andrew Carnegie famously insisted that spending all one’s money on building public goods was far wiser than leaving it to the government or (worst of all) to one’s children. And this giving can have a national or international reach.
But because such philanthropy comes from specific people and organizations in specific places, it is often the towns and cities they live and do business in which benefit the most.
Some philanthropy is small-scale: Kansas non-profits generate over $14 billion, and Kansans themselves donate nearly $2 billion, each year. Every church, athletic club, arts organization, youth group, and more which benefits from that work adds to their local community.
Most attention, though, obviously goes to those willing and able to share with their towns and cities on a major scale, helping to build parks, performing arts centers, museums, and libraries, and funding scholarships, educational programs, civic infrastructure, and more. So when some of these big players move, city governments pay attention, and rightly so.
Hopes for local philanthropy, however, can get complicated.
Any Kansan who has visited Grand Rapids, Omaha, or Bentonville, and seen the massive impact which the DeVos, Buffett, and Walton families have had on the amenities of those cities, can’t deny the value of such generosity. The same thing is visible in Tulsa—yet the centralizing tendencies of the Kaiser family there has given rise to criticism, and similar concerns crop up in other cities as well.
In Kansas, one might think that Wichita’s Koch family, one of the richest in the country, might head this list. But despite some high-profile gifts, their money has mostly gone to the support the Kochs’ preferred ideological causes, with the foundations set up by the Sunderland, Hansen, and other families in the Kansas City area far outpacing them in civic support.
Charles Koch’s son Chase has recently made waves by buying up properties in downtown Wichita—including former apartments in a city facing a housing shortage—and has talked of his desire to add to the city’s music and arts scene. But what community developments may come of his interests remain to be seen.
Philanthropists have always been part of the Kansas landscape. The best ones, whether their donations are large or small, are those that work with local governments and civic organizations to make certain their support aligns with community needs and a shared municipal vision.
Yes, the intentions of philanthropic action deserve respect; that’s the law. But while Kansas cities and towns will always be grateful for charitable support, receiving it as a reflection of merely personal goals doesn’t satisfy Carnegie’s measure of public giving at all.
Dr. Russell Arben Fox teaches politics at Friends University in Wichita.