They Glow, Then Go
What Does It Really Mean to Be a Gala Honoree?
I believe in galas, although I understand perfectly well why many fundraisers have complicated feelings about them. They are expensive, consume an extraordinary amount of staff time and have a peculiar ability to turn otherwise rational people into experts on flowers, table linens and whether twelve people can comfortably sit at a table designed for ten.
Still, I believe they can be extraordinarily valuable.
A good gala does much more than raise money. For one evening, an organization brings together people who rarely find themselves in the same room: donors, board members, volunteers, corporate partners, community leaders, friends of friends and, ideally, people encountering the organization for the first time. It gives the nonprofit an opportunity to explain why it exists, report on what has been accomplished, introduce the people behind the work and allow supporters to experience the mission in a more immediate way than they can through an annual report, an email or a social media post.
There is also something increasingly rare about an in-person gathering. People talk to one another. A board member introduces a colleague to the executive director. A donor meets someone who actually runs a program. A guest who came because of a business relationship may discover an organization he or she had never heard of. None of these things can be measured neatly on the night of the event, but anyone who has spent years in fundraising knows that relationships often begin in precisely this way.
Of course, the gala also has to raise money. There is no virtue in producing a beautiful evening that leaves the organization with little to show for it financially. But I have never believed that the correct way to evaluate an event is simply to divide expenses by gross revenue and declare victory or failure. The calculation matters, but it does not tell the entire story.
Galas are expensive. So are many other forms of fundraising.
The nonprofit sector often talks about the cost to raise a dollar as though every fundraising method can be placed neatly on the same chart. In reality, fundraising economics depend heavily on what an organization is trying to accomplish.
The Association of Fundraising Professionals has made this point for years. Acquiring a new donor and renewing an existing donor are very different activities. Major-gift fundraising, planned giving, direct response and events should not be expected to produce identical returns. An acquisition campaign may even lose money initially if the donors it brings into the organization later become valuable long-term supporters.
Current direct-mail data makes the point particularly well. According to the M+R 2026 Benchmarks, direct-mail revenue among participating organizations increased by 9 percent in 2025. So, despite repeated predictions of its death, direct mail remains an important fundraising tool. But its economics varied enormously depending upon the audience. Mail sent to active donors generated an average of $4.51 for every dollar spent. Mail sent to lapsed donors generated only 90 cents. Prospecting to people who had never given produced 41 cents for every dollar spent.
It would therefore make little sense to say simply that “direct mail costs X cents to raise a dollar.” The answer depends on what kind of mailing we are talking about and, more importantly, whether the goal is immediate revenue or donor acquisition.
Digital fundraising is no different. M+R reported that paid-search fundraising advertising generated $2.48 for every advertising dollar spent in 2025. Multichannel advertising produced $1.82, display advertising $1.11 and digital video 56 cents. TikTok performed particularly poorly as a direct fundraising vehicle among organizations in the study, with an average cost of $590 per donation. Those numbers are useful, but they are advertising returns, not fully loaded fundraising costs. Staff time, creative work, technology and the expense of building an audience still exist.
Email can appear almost free if we look only at the cost of sending one more message. Yet the same M+R study found that nonprofits generated an average of $54 for every 1,000 fundraising emails delivered and $2.40 in email-attributed revenue per subscriber during the year. Those results depend on organizations having built lists, maintained technology, created content and developed relationships over time.
Events are harder to compare because accounting practices vary significantly. Some organizations count the venue, catering and production costs and stop there. Others assign staff salaries, consultants, credit-card expenses and indirect costs. Consequently, I am wary of widely repeated claims that galas universally cost 30 cents, 50 cents or some other fixed amount to raise a dollar. There is no single reliable number that applies to all organizations.
What we can say with confidence is that galas are expensive enough that they should accomplish several things at once. If the only measurable result of an event is the money collected that evening, a nonprofit ought to ask whether there are less complicated ways of raising the same amount. The value of a gala comes partly from what happens after it: the people introduced to the organization, the sponsors who become closer partners, the guests who return, and the relationships that continue developing months or years later.
That brings me to honorees.
What are we really asking someone to accept?
The honoree has become almost inseparable from the American nonprofit gala. Organizations recognize business leaders, philanthropists, corporations, community leaders, longtime supporters and occasionally public figures. There is usually an award, a video, an introduction and a speech. The honoree invites family, friends, colleagues, clients and business associates, many of whom may be encountering the organization for the first time.
This can work extremely well.
Recognizing someone who has supported an organization is an appropriate way to say thank you publicly. It may also encourage others to become involved. More importantly, the honoree can introduce an entirely new circle of people to the nonprofit. Someone receiving an award can make a call that a development officer cannot make, or convince a colleague to attend an event who would otherwise ignore an invitation from an organization they do not know.
I have always viewed that as one of the most important reasons to have honorees in the first place. The relationship is not simply about the contribution made by the person being recognized. It is about the possibility of widening the circle around the organization.
There is, however, a less attractive version of the arrangement, and most experienced nonprofit leaders have encountered it at some point.
An individual agrees enthusiastically to be honored. In the months before the gala there are conversations about people who might attend, companies that might participate, introductions that might be made and support that might develop. The honoree speaks warmly about the organization and the importance of its work. On the evening of the event, colleagues and friends fill the tables, photographs are taken, speeches are made and the award is presented.
Then, sometimes, remarkably little follows.
I do not mean that every honoree should immediately become a major donor or remain financially committed at the same level forever. That would be both unrealistic and unfair. Financial circumstances change. Corporate budgets change. People retire, lose jobs, face family obligations or simply find themselves unable to contribute as they once did. Any organization that values its donors should understand this.
The question is different. Was the honor part of a developing relationship with the mission, or did the relationship largely exist because there was an honor attached to it?
There is an uncomfortable element of personal prestige in charitable recognition that I think the nonprofit sector should be willing to acknowledge. Awards are flattering. They look good in biographies. They provide excellent photographs. They allow someone to invite friends and colleagues to an evening centered, at least partly, on their accomplishments. None of this makes an honoree selfish, and there is no reason to pretend people should be indifferent to recognition. Most of us appreciate being appreciated.
But a charity should be careful when recognition starts becoming the principal value being exchanged. The organization has invested its own reputation in the person it honors. It has used staff time and resources to tell that person's story and has associated that individual publicly with its mission. If the relationship effectively ends when the award has been received, something has gone wrong.
And the fault may not rest entirely with the honoree.
Nonprofits can be very good at courting someone before a gala and surprisingly poor at explaining what they hope the relationship will become afterward. We tell prospective honorees about the venue, the people attending, last year's event and the visibility surrounding the award. We may discuss tables and sponsorships in considerable detail. We do not always spend enough time talking about what being associated with the organization might mean beyond that evening.
Perhaps we should.
Support does not always mean another check
A former honoree can remain extraordinarily valuable to an organization without continuing to make the same financial contribution. People who have achieved enough in their professional or community lives to be honored usually possess something besides money: relationships, experience, credibility and access.
A former honoree might introduce the organization to a corporate leader, foundation, donor or prospective board member. He or she might host a small gathering, bring someone to visit a program, offer professional advice or help an executive director reach a person who would otherwise be inaccessible. Sometimes one introduction is worth considerably more than another gala table.
There are also quieter ways of remaining involved. Attending another event, staying informed about the work, responding when the organization calls, sharing an important development with colleagues or simply maintaining a genuine relationship are all meaningful. None requires someone to reproduce the financial circumstances that existed in the year of the award.
This matters especially now. According to the Fundraising Effectiveness Project, charitable dollars increased approximately 5 percent in 2025, the strongest growth in five years, while the number of donors declined 3.6 percent. In other words, nonprofits raised more money from fewer people. Early 2026 data showed some improvement in the donor decline, but acquisition and retention remain persistent challenges across the sector.
For organizations trying to broaden their donor base, an honoree's network can therefore be far more important than one evening's revenue. If fifty people attend because they know the honoree, the real question is what happens to those fifty people afterward. Do they ever hear from the organization again? Does the honoree help maintain the connection? Does anyone invite them to see the work? Do any of them become donors, volunteers, board members or advocates?
The nonprofit has responsibilities here as well. If the development office never contacts the honoree again except when the next gala approaches, it should not be surprised when the relationship becomes transactional. Stewardship is not something we can demand from donors while failing to practice it ourselves.
Recognition should change the relationship
There is a passage in the Gospel of Matthew that warns about doing good principally so that other people will see it. The lesson is religious in origin, but the underlying observation about human behavior is broader than religion. Public recognition can easily become confused with the reason for doing something in the first place.
Charities have to live with that tension. We recognize donors because gratitude matters and because public examples of generosity can inspire others. We put names on buildings, print them in programs and present awards. There is nothing inherently wrong with any of that. Problems arise only when recognition becomes a substitute for commitment.
For that reason, I think nonprofits should become clearer about what an honor represents. It acknowledges something that has already happened, but it should also mark a change in the relationship between the person and the organization. The honoree has now been introduced publicly as someone connected to the mission. It is reasonable to hope that the connection will continue in some form.
That does not require a contract, a pledge or a list of obligations presented before the award. It requires a shared understanding that the gala is not necessarily the conclusion of the relationship.
Perhaps the most useful test of a successful honoree relationship comes well after the event. A year later, does the person still know what the organization is doing? Has there been a conversation unrelated to buying another table? Have new people entered the organization because of that relationship? Has the nonprofit itself done enough to keep the honoree engaged?
I have known honorees who remain involved years later, sometimes financially and sometimes in completely different ways. Those relationships tend to become far more valuable than the award itself. I have also seen relationships in which almost all the energy existed before the gala and very little afterward.
The second outcome is a wasted opportunity for everyone involved.
An organization chooses to honor someone because it believes that person has a meaningful connection to its work, values or community. If that connection is real, there should still be something to talk about after the photographs have been taken and the event has become last year's gala.
That, to me, is where the honor begins to have real value.
About the author
Gabriele Delmonaco leads A Chance In Life as President and CEO. His career spans more than three decades in nonprofit management, fundraising, and finance. He writes about the practical decisions facing nonprofit executives and boards, drawing on his experience in the United States and internationally.
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