Why Smart Charities Say No to Money (And Why You Should Too)

The Charity That Said No to £200,000

5–8 minutes

Emma was halfway through her third coffee of the morning when the email pinged through. A major foundation. £200,000. Three years of funding. She read it twice, then immediately rang her chair of trustees.

“We’re not applying,” she said.

There was a long silence on the other end. Then: “Emma, are you alright? That’s two hundred grand.”

Let me tell you about Emma and Haven House—they’re not real, but their story is happening in charity offices across the UK right now, probably in one near you.

The Email That Changes Everything

Emma had been running Haven House, a small homelessness charity in Bristol, for five years. They’d built their reputation on something beautifully simple: emergency accommodation and face-to-face support. The kind where you actually sit down with someone, make them a cup of tea, and help them figure out what comes next.

They were bloody brilliant at it. Local authorities trusted them. Other charities sent people their way. And the people they served—the ones who mattered most—knew they could turn up at Haven House and get genuine human support when everything else had fallen apart.

So when that email arrived offering £200,000 for “innovative digital solutions to address social isolation among vulnerable populations,” it should’ve been perfect.

Social isolation? Yes, their clients faced that.

Vulnerable populations? Definitely.

£200,000 that would solve their money worries for three years? Absolutely.

But as Emma read through the application guidelines, something felt wrong.

When the Money Doesn’t Fit

The funder wanted apps. Online platforms. Virtual support groups. Measurable digital engagement metrics. They wanted innovation and technology solutions.

They wanted Haven House to become something they’d never been and weren’t equipped to be.

Emma’s trustees thought she’d lost the plot. One of them actually said, “Are you mental? That’s £200,000!” Another pointed out, quite reasonably, that they could probably figure out the digital stuff as they went along. Lots of charities were doing it.

And that’s exactly what worried Emma.

What Happened Next

Two years later, Haven House has doubled their capacity using their original model. They’ve secured funding from three different sources who specifically sought them out because of their expertise in face-to-face support.

Meanwhile, Emma watches other homelessness charities struggle with expensive digital platforms that homeless people don’t actually use. She’s seen at least two organisations she respects go from being excellent at direct support to being mediocre at… well, everything.

“We fund our strengths, not trends,” Emma tells other charity leaders who ask about her decision. “Turns out that’s quite radical these days.”

Why Do We Keep Chasing Shiny Things?

Here’s what I’ve noticed: every year, new trends sweep through the charity sector like fashion seasons.

Digital innovation. Social entrepreneurship. Systems change. Data-driven impact. Evidence-based practice. Community co-design.

And look, these aren’t bad things. Some of them are genuinely important. But here’s what happens—funders get excited about the latest approach, money flows towards organisations that can speak the right language, and suddenly charities everywhere are scrambling to retrofit their work into whatever framework is fashionable this year.

I’ve watched brilliant youth workers try to become data scientists. I’ve seen community centres pivot to become digital innovation hubs. I’ve listened to homelessness charities talk about blockchain. (Yes, really. Blockchain.)

The problem isn’t the trends themselves. The problem is when perfectly effective organisations abandon what they’re genuinely good at to chase what’s currently popular.

What You Lose When You Chase Trends

Let me be honest about what happens when you move away from what you’re actually good at.

You lose your expertise. You know those years you spent learning your craft? Understanding your community? Building relationships? Figuring out what actually works? All that deep knowledge gets shoved aside whilst you try to learn something completely new from scratch.

People can tell you’re faking it. If you’ve built trust through grassroots advocacy, suddenly trying to become a tech startup feels weird. Your community notices. Your partners notice. And they start wondering what happened to the organisation they used to trust.

Everything costs more than you think. Developing entirely new skills requires massive investment. Training. New systems. Different staff. Consultants to explain what you’re supposed to be doing. Meanwhile, all that money could’ve made your existing brilliant work even better.

You end up good at nothing. Here’s the bit that makes me angry—you’re no longer the go-to organisation for what you used to do brilliantly, but you’re not yet credible in your new area. So you’re just… floating. Mediocre at multiple things instead of excellent at one thing.

The Organisations That Try Everything Usually End Up Good at Nothing

I know this sounds harsh. And yes, I can already hear some of you thinking, “But we have to evolve! We can’t just stay the same forever!”

You’re right. Organisations do need to grow and adapt.

But there’s a massive difference between strategic development and desperate trend-chasing.

Strategic development looks like this: a youth mentoring charity that expands into mentoring young care leavers. Different client group, same core skill set. They’re building on what they’re already brilliant at.

Trend-chasing looks like this: that same youth mentoring charity suddenly applying for funding to develop an AI-powered app because that’s where the money is this year. They’ve got no tech expertise, their young people don’t want an app, but the funding application uses all the right buzzwords.

Can you spot the difference?

What Emma Understood

Emma understood something that took me years to figure out: your clients don’t need you to be good at everything.

They need you to be brilliant at the things that matter most to them.

The people turning up at Haven House in crisis didn’t need an app. They needed someone who really understood homelessness, who had years of experience navigating the housing system, who could sit with them and work out what to do next.

Haven House already had that expertise. That app funding would’ve distracted them from it.

Why This Matters More Than Ever

I’m writing this because I’ve seen too many good organisations lose themselves chasing funding that wasn’t right for them.

I’ve watched charities take on work they weren’t equipped for because they needed the money.

I’ve seen brilliant, focused organisations become confused, scattered versions of themselves.

And I’ve noticed something: the ones that stay focused, that have the confidence to say “no, that’s not what we do”—they’re the ones that survive. They’re the ones that actually create lasting change.

In the next post, I’m going to give you the practical tools to figure out which funding opportunities strengthen what you’re brilliant at, and which ones are mission drift waiting to happen.

But first, I need you to sit with this question: what would your clients miss most if you stopped doing it?

Not what looks good in a funding application. Not what’s currently trendy. Not what other organisations are doing.

What would the people you serve actually miss?

That’s your North Star. Everything else is distraction.


Next up: The practical toolkit for funding decisions that won’t derail your mission. Because saying “we fund our strengths, not trends” is one thing. Actually having the tools to make that decision when £200,000 is on the table? That’s something else entirely.

1 thought on “Why Smart Charities Say No to Money (And Why You Should Too)

  1. Pingback: Your Mission Drift Prevention Toolkit (Or: How to Say No to the Wrong Money) | The Art of Stupidity

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