A couple of months ago, I got a strange call from Wisconsin Public Radio. We give them a couple of dollars every month. They called to thank us so much. They were wondering if, for their upcoming pledge drive, they could make our donation that month part of a challenge grant. You know, “generous members of WPR have offered a challenge grant this hour. Help us make our goal!”
I asked, “So, if listeners don’t give enough that hour to meet the challenge goal, I don’t give you any dough this month?”
“Oh, no, you don’t have to do anything; we’d just include it as part of our pitch,” she explained with that kindergarten teacher voice that some Midwesterners have.
“But where’s the challenge? You get my money if you meet the goal or not.”
Stop jiggling my faith in Public Radio
“The challenge is to meet the goal that’s set,” she said.
Oddly, this reminded of this gadget I owned once that broke and whose guarantee against breakage, I found out, was a sincere apology.
“But WPR has nothing at stake,” I said. I was getting suspicious and starting to listen quite shamefully for a hint of Eastern European accent underneath the Betty Crocker lilt. I was wondering if she was going to ask me to “confirm” my credit card info if I agreed to go along with her pitch.
“The challenge is for the listeners.”
“I don’t know. It sounds kinda funny. Do you tell listeners that you still get the challenge money if they don’t come across?”
“I don’t think so, sir, but each challenge is different.”
In the end, I said no, and hung up. The thing is: the challenge was going to be from anonymous monthly supporters; I wondered why they even bothered to ask anyone’s permission. Why jiggle my faith in one of the few organizations I like to be naive about?
The Risk Is Ours. 