Category Archives: Philanthropy

While Howard Is Chasing Harvard, What Public HBCUs Are Chasing UTIMCO?

“I make no apology for the love of competition.” – John Harbaugh

In the world of higher education finance, few numbers turn heads quite like endowment size. It is the ultimate scoreboard for institutional power—a metric that signals not only a university’s wealth but also its capacity to shape research, drive innovation, support students, and influence national policy. In this rarefied air, Howard University has made history, becoming the first Historically Black College or University (HBCU) to surpass the $1 billion endowment mark. According to HBCU Money’s 2024 rankings, Howard’s endowment now stands at $1.03 billion.

Spelman College, long regarded as Howard’s fiercest private competitor, received a record-setting $100 million donation in 2023. Yet even with that windfall, its endowment reached $506.7 million—leaving it more than $500 million behind Howard. Nevertheless, Spelman’s donor base remains one of the strongest in Black higher education, and it may still overtake Howard in the race to $2 billion. But the $1 billion baton has already been passed.

If Howard is chasing Harvard, and Spelman is setting its sights on Yale, then who among public HBCUs dares to chase the Goliath of public university endowments—UTIMCO?

The Silent Behemoth in Texas

UTIMCO—the University of Texas/Texas A&M Investment Management Company—is not just large; it is colossal. As of 2024, UTIMCO manages a staggering $64.3 billion in assets across the University of Texas and Texas A&M university systems. That figure is nearly $15 billion more than Harvard’s own endowment and more than three times the size of the second-largest public university endowment at the University of Michigan.

This financial empire is largely invisible to the public eye. Few outside of elite Texas financial and political circles are even aware of UTIMCO’s existence, let alone its scale. It quietly funds a wide spectrum of research, real estate development, and private equity plays that influence state and national agendas.

If an HBCU—or group of HBCUs—is ever to rival that level of public endowment control, it will not happen by accident. It must be built. And it will most likely be built collectively.

HBCUs and the Endowment Gap

The endowment disparity between HBCUs and Predominantly White Institutions (PWIs) has been well-documented. HBCUs represent around 3% of America’s colleges, yet account for less than 1% of total U.S. endowment wealth. According to a McKinsey report, HBCUs would need $12.5 billion in incremental funding to achieve endowment parity with similarly sized PWIs.

While private HBCUs like Howard and Spelman appear to be making some headway, public HBCUs remain largely behind. Most of them are tethered to state systems that have historically underfunded them and which rarely—if ever—extend the full benefits of their system-wide endowment strategies.

Consider the University of North Carolina System. It includes North Carolina A&T, the largest HBCU by enrollment, and North Carolina Central University. Yet both institutions have endowments under $200 million. Meanwhile, UNC Chapel Hill boasts an endowment exceeding $5.4 billion. Similarly, Florida A&M University has an endowment of less than $200 million, while the University of Florida’s soars above $2 billion.

The Case for a Public HBCU Endowment Challenger

In identifying a public HBCU capable of mounting a challenge to UTIMCO’s financial supremacy, the most promising strategy does not lie in the strength of one institution—but in the collective power of several. States that are home to multiple public HBCUs present the most viable path to establishing a unified, independently managed investment entity that can leverage scale, pooled capital, and institutional collaboration.

Virginia, Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina, and Mississippi all house two or more public HBCUs, each with proud legacies and strategic regional influence. A coordinated financial framework across these schools could form the foundation of a “Black UTIMCO”—a professionally managed, state-based consortium endowment capable of rivaling small PWI systems in both return and influence.

The most likely candidates must share a few key characteristics:

  1. State-Level Endowment Consortium Model – States with two or more public HBCUs, such as Virginia (Virginia State, Norfolk State), Georgia (Albany State, Fort Valley State, Savannah State), or Alabama (Alabama A&M, Alabama State), are uniquely positioned to pioneer a collective endowment strategy. Rather than relying on marginal support from broader university systems, these HBCUs could form a joint investment vehicle modeled on UTIMCO—pooling their endowments under a professionally managed, independent investment company. Such a fund would enable economies of scale, competitive asset management, and unified long-term planning, boosting their ability to generate investment alpha and philanthropic leverage.
  2. Flagship Status Among HBCUs – Institutions with strong alumni networks, national reputations, and federal research capabilities are better positioned to attract major philanthropy.
  3. Strategic Location – HBCUs located in fast-growing economic zones can leverage regional corporate ties for private partnerships.

However, creating such a financial architecture is not purely a technical endeavor. It is inherently political—and often fraught with social resistance.

The Political Geography of Resistance

Many of the states that host multiple public HBCUs are governed by conservative legislatures and state boards of regents that have long resisted equitable funding for Black institutions. Despite proclamations about diversity, equity, and inclusion, these power structures often withhold support from Black-led entities that could challenge traditional hierarchies.

  • Alabama, with Alabama State and Alabama A&M, underfunded its HBCUs by over $527 million between 1987 and 2020, according to the U.S. Department of Education.
  • Georgia’s consolidation of HBCUs like Albany State into broader system structures has often diluted their financial and governance autonomy.
  • Mississippi has repeatedly neglected basic infrastructure and funding needs at its three public HBCUs—Jackson State, Alcorn State, and Mississippi Valley State—despite allocating surpluses elsewhere. It is also no secret that Mississippi has purposely constructed a singular board of trustees for all of its public higher education institutions across the state with Ole Miss and Mississippi State unabashedly dominating the board.

Even in Virginia, perceived as more moderate, a move by Virginia State University and Norfolk State to pool their endowments might be seen as too bold a play in a state that still subtly resists Black institutional consolidation.

Social Impediments and Institutional Fragmentation

Beyond politics, there are intra-HBCU dynamics that complicate collaboration. These institutions have historically been forced to compete for scraps, which can breed a zero-sum mentality. Trustees, alumni, and administrations often prefer complete local control over modest assets rather than shared governance over substantial ones.

Convincing institutions to pool their endowments requires cultural alignment and a long-term vision of shared prosperity. Donors, too, may resist giving to multi-institutional funds, preferring the emotional appeal of a singular alma mater.

Nonetheless, this mindset must change. The math is clear: five public HBCUs each contributing $100 million can produce a $500 million investment base. That scale opens doors to private equity, hedge funds, and other vehicles that outperform the conservative allocations typically used by smaller institutional portfolios.

Institutions Poised for Leadership

  • North Carolina A&T State University, with an endowment of $201.9 million, remains the largest public HBCU endowment. With deep ties to tech and defense industries, it has both alumni momentum and industry leverage.
  • Florida A&M University, despite setbacks surrounding its pledged $237 million donation, has an official endowment of $124.1 million and stands to benefit immensely from partnership with institutions like Bethune-Cookman or Edward Waters.
  • Virginia State University and Norfolk State University, with $96.5 million and $88.2 million respectively, could combine to form the financial cornerstone of a Virginia HBCU Investment Company—managing nearly $185 million in assets at inception.

The Need for a “Black UTIMCO”

Rather than wait for state systems to share the wealth equitably, some in the HBCU policy space are advocating for the creation of a consortium endowment fund — a kind of “Black UTIMCO.” This collective endowment manager would pool assets from willing HBCUs, allowing them to negotiate better investment terms, lower fees, and generate alpha through scale.

Such an initiative would require governance innovation, donor transparency, and trust between institutions that are often underfunded and overburdened. But it may be the only viable path forward for public HBCUs to compete against mega-managers like UTIMCO, MITIMCo, or the Yale Investments Office.

A $5 billion consortium fund, even divided across 25 HBCUs, would be transformational. It could fund scholarships, capital improvements, faculty chairs, and technology upgrades, while giving HBCUs the financial leverage to attract major federal research grants.

A New Competitive Mindset

In American higher education, the metaphorical arms race is very real. Endowments are the stockpiles. Harvard and Yale are the gold standard in the private arena. UTIMCO is the titan in the public sector. And HBCUs, despite their contributions to Black excellence, continue to be locked out of the upper tier.

John Harbaugh’s quote about competition resonates because it points to a deeper truth: love of competition does not require parity at the outset, only the will to chase. Howard is in the final lap toward $1 billion, setting a new bar for Black institutional capital. Spelman may outdistance them on the next lap to $2 billion. But in the public sphere, the silence is deafening.

Where is the public HBCU that dares to dream of beating Michigan, surpassing UNC, or even challenging UTIMCO?

The Race Begins with Vision

Howard is chasing Harvard. Spelman is perhaps chasing Yale.

But no single public HBCU can chase UTIMCO. The scale is too vast, the machinery too entrenched, and the rules too uneven.

What public HBCUs can do, however, is combine. They can look across their borders, past their rivals, and toward a shared future. They can imagine a world where collective African American endowment power reshapes not just education, but the broader economy and policy landscape.

It is not a failure of ambition that no public HBCU has reached $1 billion. It is a failure of coordination and imagination.

The first African American UTIMCO will not be built by a single school. It will be built by a desire for compeition. A desire to win.

Give Black App: A Digital Gatekeeper For African American Philanthropy & Institutional Capital

“We must invest in ourselves. Without our own institutions, we will always be at the mercy of others.” – Mary McLeod Bethune

In the long arc of African American economic life, a recurring pattern emerges: the institutions most critical to our survival are consistently starved of capital, while the broader society thrives off of our labor, culture, and creativity. From Reconstruction-era mutual aid societies to the undercapitalized HBCUs of today, the struggle has never been whether African Americans are generous, but whether that generosity is systematically directed into institutions that can build durable power.

The Give Black App, founded by David C. Hughes, Alexus Hall, and Fran Harris, positions itself at this inflection point. It is not simply an app but a digital strategy—one attempting to reshape the flow of African American philanthropy and donations by curating, centralizing, and amplifying support for Black-led institutions.

The Context of Underfunding

African American nonprofits receive disproportionately less funding compared to their White counterparts. A 2020 Bridgespan study found that unrestricted net assets of White-led nonprofits were 76% larger than those of Black-led nonprofits, while revenues were 24% higher. These disparities compound over time. For HBCUs, the story is even starker: the endowments of all 100+ HBCUs combined is less than 1/10th of Harvard University’s alone.

Despite African America’s estimated $1.8 trillion in annual buying power, only a fraction is captured by its own institutions. Much of African American giving remains individual-to-individual or church-centered, providing immediate relief but not the kind of long-term institutional scaffolding needed to compete with White or global capital. Platforms like Give Black attempt to redirect that generosity into a framework where dollars reinforce permanence.

Building the Infrastructure of Giving

Give Black’s strength lies in infrastructure, a word often overlooked in philanthropy. The app operates as a digital gatekeeper, cataloguing Black-led nonprofits and enabling donors—whether individuals, alumni associations, or grassroots organizations—to find and fund them with ease.

This may seem simple, but its implications are profound. In an environment where discoverability is one of the greatest barriers for Black-led organizations, Give Black centralizes attention. For the countless nonprofits that lack robust marketing budgets, development officers, or national visibility, the app provides a seat at the table they would otherwise be denied.

The team itself reflects intentional design. Hughes, a Morehouse and Prairie View alumnus, carries the academic gravitas to engage institutions; Hall, with a background in cybersecurity and software sales, grounds the platform’s technical operations; Harris, a lifelong advocate of Black love and economic empowerment, provides the cultural grounding and marketing voice. Alongside them stand directors rooted in community engagement, finance, athletics, and science. Together, they represent a cross-section of African American life that mirrors the very community the app seeks to serve.

Philanthropy Meets Technology

Unlike GoFundMe or Benevity, which serve broad audiences, Give Black narrows its focus: African American-led institutions. This specificity is both its greatest strength and its potential vulnerability. By making African American philanthropy visible and trackable, the app attempts to normalize institutional giving within the community itself.

African American donors, long used to personal giving—funeral funds, tuition help, emergency assistance—are now asked to see their dollars not just as charity but as investment. An app that allows for transparency, accountability, and impact measurement may finally bridge the gap between intent and sustained institutional support.

Technology also democratizes giving. Younger generations, accustomed to digital wallets and mobile donations, are unlikely to write checks or mail contributions. By existing where they already transact, Give Black normalizes philanthropy as part of daily life. With proper marketing, it could serve as a digital equivalent of the collection plate—except one that sends dollars to Black think tanks, schools, health clinics, and endowment foundations rather than solely to Sunday offerings.

The Role of Fran Harris

Much of the initial confusion about Give Black’s leadership arises from Fran Harris’s name. She openly jokes about it—she is not the Fran Harris who was a WNBA champion or Shark Tank winner, though many assume otherwise. Instead, she distinguishes herself as someone whose “entire life has been about Black love and economic empowerment.”

That distinction matters. Whereas celebrity often drives visibility in African American philanthropy, Harris positions herself not as a star but as a steward of a broader vision. Her work focuses on the storytelling and cultural marketing needed to align African American giving with institutional capital. In a sense, her humor in addressing the name confusion underscores the seriousness of her actual role: grounding the app’s message in authenticity rather than celebrity.

The Gaps in the Strategy

Despite its promise, Give Black faces hurdles. First, fundraising expertise at the highest level appears limited within the core team. Major philanthropy is an industry of its own, requiring seasoned development officers capable of cultivating seven- and eight-figure gifts. Without this, Give Black risks becoming a platform for small-dollar giving—important, but insufficient for closing institutional capital gaps.

Second, technological depth must match ambition. While Hall’s cybersecurity background provides operational credibility, scaling a fintech-style platform requires CTO-level leadership. Issues of compliance, data integrity, and user trust are not optional—they are the foundation of sustainability.

Third, policy and compliance matter. Donations intersect with financial regulations, nonprofit law, and IRS oversight. To become the definitive gateway for Black giving, Give Black must not only build a sleek front end but also a back-end architecture that can withstand regulatory scrutiny and instill donor confidence.

Where the Opportunities Lie

The greatest opportunities for Give Black lie in institutional self-reliance.

One clear pathway is through alumni networks. HBCU alumni giving rates remain in the single digits, compared to 20–30% at elite PWIs. If Give Black positioned itself as the official conduit for alumni donations, it could help double or triple those rates over time. That alone would shift millions into endowments and operating budgets across the HBCU ecosystem.

Another opportunity lies in membership-based organizations—from professional networks to civic associations. Instead of dues going solely toward programming, portions could be funneled into long-term institutional giving through Give Black, creating a culture of collective philanthropy.

The Pan-African Diaspora represents yet another opening. African and Caribbean communities abroad are increasingly connected digitally. Give Black could expand to become a Pan-African philanthropic bridge, enabling solidarity between African Americans and global Black communities. Diaspora donors, often seeking trustworthy channels for giving, could find in Give Black a centralized, transparent platform.

Finally, the most transformative opportunity is to integrate endowment-building features directly into the app. Too much African American giving is trapped in the cycle of operating expenses. By redirecting portions of donations into permanent capital funds, Give Black could help institutions create reserves that outlast political climates and economic downturns.

Lessons from History

The urgency of Give Black’s mission must be seen against history. During the early 20th century, White-controlled philanthropy dictated the survival of many HBCUs. Institutions like Hampton and Tuskegee often relied on Northern industrialists whose donations came with ideological strings attached. The absence of African American-controlled philanthropic infrastructure meant dependency—and dependency always meant vulnerability.

Today, African American institutions still operate under the shadow of that dependency. Foundation funding remains racially skewed, and government support is often politically weaponized. Give Black, by offering a decentralized and community-driven alternative, challenges that cycle.

But history also warns: movements that lack discipline or scale are easily absorbed or ignored. Just as the Negro Leagues produced baseball talent but lacked the capital to maintain independence, so too can African American philanthropy generate excitement but fail to sustain institutional life if it is not channeled strategically.

The Verdict

Give Black App is not merely a digital donation tool. It is a test case: can African America leverage technology to redirect its wealth into its own institutions? The team’s composition, heavy in HBCU roots, marketing authenticity, and community engagement, suggests it understands both the stakes and the culture.

Still, the app must avoid the trap of becoming a feel-good project without measurable institutional outcomes. Its long-term success will be determined by whether it can:

  1. Secure partnerships with HBCUs, alumni associations, and membership-based organizations.
  2. Develop deep fundraising and compliance infrastructure.
  3. Normalize institutional giving across African American households.

If it does, Give Black could evolve into a cornerstone of African American institutional development—a kind of digital Freedman’s Bureau, redistributing not charity but power.

For African America, the stakes could not be higher. In an era where White nonprofits sit on multibillion-dollar endowments, while Black nonprofits scrape for survival, the question is not whether we are generous. It is whether our generosity is building the kind of institutions that ensure survival for centuries, not just survival for today.

Give Black, if scaled with vision and discipline, may finally provide the infrastructure to answer that question with a resounding yes.

A Legacy Reclaimed: Why SUNO and Dillard University Should Jointly Acquire the Amistad Research Center

When we control the archives, we control the memory. And when we control the memory, we control the meaning.” – Dr. Tera W. Hunter

The Amistad Research Center, one of the most significant archives of African American, ethnic minority, and social justice records in the United States, is facing a financial crisis that threatens its very existence. With nearly 40 percent of its federal funding cut and widespread staff layoffs already in effect, the Center is at a critical juncture. Rather than see it wither under institutional neglect or be absorbed into organizations disconnected from its cultural roots, a powerful and historically grounded solution stands within reach: a joint acquisition by Southern University at New Orleans and Dillard University.

This would not be a rescue it would be a return. Amistad was originally founded in 1966 at Fisk University and moved to Dillard in 1969, where it remained for nearly two decades. The Center thrived during its years at Dillard, deepening its collections and community relationships before relocating to Tulane University in 1987. That move, while promising better resources and facilities, ultimately distanced Amistad from the very community and institutional ecosystem that had nurtured its growth.

Southern University at New Orleans, founded in 1956, has long been an anchor for working-class Black families in New Orleans. Its commitment to public access, social justice, and Black advancement makes it a natural co-steward. Notably, Florence Borders, one of the most influential archivists in the history of Amistad, served as Senior Archivist at the Center from 1970 to 1989 before continuing her career as head archivist at SUNO. Her career trajectory embodies the institutional and intellectual bridge between Amistad, Dillard, and SUNO, a legacy that can now be cemented through a shared act of reclamation.

A joint venture would allow both HBCUs to leverage their complementary strengths. SUNO brings the infrastructure of a public institution and a clear mission focused on access and equity. Dillard offers private fundraising agility and deep roots in the liberal arts and cultural production. Together, they could create a sustainable governance structure that allows the archive to maintain its independence while benefiting from shared resources. Each university could contribute faculty, staff, research infrastructure, and development expertise toward a unified vision that ensures Amistad’s collections remain accessible, curated with cultural sensitivity, and protected against predatory acquisitions or institutional sidelining.

The benefits for students and faculty would be transformative. Internships, research assistantships, and practicums tied to archival collections would offer unparalleled experiential learning. New certificate programs in archival science, public history, and digital preservation could emerge positioning both institutions as national leaders in archival education. Amistad’s holdings over 15 million items, including manuscripts, oral histories, art, and periodicals could drive the creation of entire departments and interdisciplinary research clusters focused on African American, Afro-Caribbean, Latinx, Indigenous, and diasporic studies.

The public-facing impact of such a joint acquisition is equally significant. New Orleans, a city with a long history of being a crucible of Black culture and resistance, would gain a consolidated Black archival institution that serves not only scholars but communities. Cultural tourism centered on rotating exhibitions, lectures, and historical installations could add economic and civic value. A jointly governed Amistad Center could partner with local schools to support history education, oral history collection, and family archive projects embedding itself in the civic life of the region.

There are also compelling financial reasons for this move. A high-profile acquisition effort would attract major philanthropic interest, particularly among donors looking to support racial equity, archival preservation, and HBCU development. Foundations like Mellon, Ford, and IMLS have historically supported Amistad and similar institutions, but their funding often becomes more robust when institutional alignment and long-term sustainability are demonstrated. By crafting a visionary joint ownership model, SUNO and Dillard could access deeper grantmaking relationships while also launching a national endowment campaign to stabilize the archive permanently.

To be successful, the joint venture would need clear governance. A dedicated board composed of SUNO and Dillard faculty, independent scholars, archivists, community leaders, and Amistad staff should be established. This board would be responsible for curatorial direction, budget oversight, and public engagement ensuring the Center’s founding mission remains intact while also adapting to contemporary challenges and technologies.

This acquisition would signal a new paradigm in Black institutional development. It would show that HBCUs are no longer waiting to be invited into the rooms where decisions about cultural memory are made. Instead, they are building and owning those rooms. The quiet transfer of African American cultural assets into majority white institutions especially under financial duress has been a persistent form of cultural dispossession. What SUNO and Dillard can demonstrate is that reclamation is possible. That ownership, not just stewardship, is the future.

This opportunity will not wait. ARC’s financial instability is already endangering collections and community access. Every day that passes without an institutional intervention increases the risk of fragmentation, inaccessibility, or outright closure. The time to act is now—not just for preservation, but for power.

Together, Southern University at New Orleans and Dillard University can redefine what it means to protect and elevate Black history. They can transform the Amistad Research Center from a vulnerable institution into a fortified intellectual fortress. They can move us from crisis to control, from neglect to legacy.

This is more than a proposal. It is a blueprint for Black institutional sovereignty. History is watching. And it is offering a chance to write the next chapter not just about the past we preserve, but the future we intend to build.

A Merger of (Potential) Might: Why Prairie View A&M and Texas Southern Should Combine Their Foundations to Challenge the Endowment Establishment

It is reason, and not passion, which must guide our deliberations, guide our debate, and guide our decision. – Barbara Jordan

In the gilded halls of America’s elite universities, financial firepower is both a symbol and source of dominance. Endowments—the great silent engines of academia—determine not only which students get scholarships but which schools can recruit Nobel-calibre faculty, fund original research, and shape public policy. At the apex of this order stands UTIMCO, the University of Texas and Texas A&M’s investment juggernaut, with more than $70 billion under management. Below, far below, exist the undercapitalised yet ambitious Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs) of Texas.

Two of the state’s largest HBCUs—Prairie View A&M University (PVAMU) and Texas Southern University (TSU)—have long histories, loyal alumni, and vital missions. What they do not have is institutional wealth. PVAMU’s foundation reported a modest $1.83 million in net assets in 2022. TSU’s foundation, better capitalised, holds $22.7 million. Combined, that amounts to just $24.5 million. For comparison, Rice University, less than 50 miles from either campus, holds an endowment north of $7.8 billion.

That yawning disparity matters. But it also presents an opportunity: a merger of the two foundations into a single, more potent philanthropic and investment entity. Done properly, it could reorient how Black higher education competes—not by appealing to fairness or guilt, but through scale, strategy, and institutional force.

A Rebalancing Act

To understand the potential of a PVAMU-TSU foundation merger, one must first grasp the dynamics of university endowments. Large endowments benefit from economies of scale, granting them access to exclusive investment opportunities—private equity, venture capital, hedge funds—often unavailable to smaller players. They attract the best fund managers, demand lower fees, and can weather market volatility without compromising their missions. Small foundations, by contrast, tend to be conservatively invested, costly to manage per dollar, and too fragmented to punch above their weight.

A consolidated HBCU foundation in Texas would be small compared to UTIMCO, but large relative to its peers. With a $25 million corpus as a starting point, the new entity could position itself for growth by professionalising its investment strategy, adopting a more ambitious donor engagement plan, and forming partnerships with Black-owned banks, family offices, and community institutions. Call it the Texas Black Excellence Fund, or perhaps, more simply, the TexHBCU Endowment.

To be sure, the legal and logistical barriers to such a merger are real. Foundation boards guard their autonomy jealously. Alumni pride can turn parochial. Governance models would need careful negotiation to ensure representation and avoid turf wars. But the arguments in favour are compelling.

The Power of One

First, a merger would cut overhead. Legal, accounting, auditing, and compliance costs—duplicated today—could be streamlined. A joint fundraising apparatus could create a single point of entry for corporate partners and high-net-worth donors. Branding efforts would gain coherence: instead of competing for attention, the institutions would stand together as a symbol of Black institutional unity and strength.

Second, scale invites leverage. A $25 million foundation cannot change the world overnight, but it can attract co-investments, engage in pooled funds, and perhaps even launch a purpose-driven asset management firm in the model of UTIMCO. If successful, this would be the first Black-led institutional investor of serious size in Texas—capable not only of managing endowment funds but of influencing broader economic flows across Black Texas.

Third, the merger would send a strategic signal to policymakers and philanthropic networks. It would say, in effect: “We are no longer asking for permission to grow. We are building the engine ourselves.” That tone matters. Too often, HBCUs are framed as needing rescue. A merged foundation flips that narrative. It becomes an asset allocator, a market participant, a builder of capital rather than a petitioner of it.

UTIMCO: A Goliath in the Crosshairs?

No one expects a $25 million fund to challenge a $70 billion behemoth. But that is not the point. UTIMCO’s dominance is as much political as it is financial. Its influence flows from its role as gatekeeper to resources, shaping everything from campus architecture to graduate fellowships. The merged HBCU foundation would not dethrone UTIMCO—it would decentralise power by becoming a second pole.

Indeed, the comparison may inspire mimicry. Just as UTIMCO serves multiple institutions, so too could a joint HBCU foundation. Prairie View and Texas Southern are only the beginning. Over time, the model could scale to include other Black-serving institutions across Texas and the South. This would amplify investment impact and accelerate institutional wealth-building.

Moreover, such a foundation could adopt an unapologetically developmental investment strategy. Where UTIMCO optimises for returns, the TexHBCU fund could optimise for both returns and racial equity—by investing in Black entrepreneurs, affordable housing, climate-resilient infrastructure, or educational tech. The dual mandate—profit and purpose—would not be a hindrance but a hallmark.

Regional Stakes

Prairie View sits on a rural hilltop. Texas Southern sprawls in urban Houston. But their communities are deeply connected—culturally, economically, demographically. A combined foundation could create regional development strategies that go beyond scholarship aid.

Imagine a venture fund seeding Black-owned start-ups in Houston’s Third Ward. A real estate initiative turning vacant lots into mixed-income housing for PVAMU students and local residents. A workforce development fund retraining returning citizens for green jobs across both cities. Each dollar invested becomes more than a balance sheet entry; it becomes a force for transformation.

This matters not just to students and faculty, but to the broader Texas economy. Black Texans make up 13% of the state population but own less than 3% of its small businesses. Educational attainment gaps persist. Institutional neglect deepens. The merger would not fix all this—but it would give the community a new tool for shaping its destiny.

Copy, Then Paste

If the model works, it would not stay in Texas. Southern University in Louisiana has multiple campuses and foundations that could benefit from consolidation. So does the University System of Maryland’s HBCUs. Indeed, the entire sector could adopt a federated endowment strategy—unified in purpose but distributed in governance.

HBCUs have long suffered from institutional atomisation. They are asked to compete individually in a system that rewards consolidation. Merging foundations is not just a finance play—it is a strategy for survival and sovereignty.

The Alternative: Stagnation

Critics may say a merger is too ambitious. That it risks alumni backlash or donor confusion. That it could take years to execute. But delay is itself a cost. Each year the foundations remain separate is another year of opportunity lost. Another year where millions in potential returns go unrealised. Another year where larger institutions deepen their lead.

PVAMU and TSU have histories to be proud of. But institutional pride must not become institutional inertia. A merger is not surrender—it is evolution.

In the long arc of higher education, moments of boldness define legacy. This is one of those moments. Two foundations. One future. Let the uniting begin.

If the State Won’t Pay, the Rich Must: The $27.5 Billion Endowment Public Broadcasting Now Requires

“In the absence of state support, those with capital must decide: will they merely enjoy the benefits of a stable society—or invest in the institutions that make it possible?”
Arielle Morgan, Senior Fellow, Institute for Civic Infrastructure

The withdrawal of $1.1 billion in federal funding from the Corporation for Public Broadcasting is not merely a fiscal adjustment—it is a structural dislocation. It marks the effective end of a decades-long social contract in which the U.S. government ensured the existence of a nationwide, non-commercial broadcasting ecosystem intended to serve the public interest. For PBS, NPR, and their hundreds of affiliate stations across the country, the clock is now ticking toward an uncertain future.

But if the U.S. government is no longer willing to fund public broadcasting, another powerful bloc may have to: the ultra-wealthy and the corporations that have long built brand equity on the back of public trust and public platforms. In other words, the very elite who most benefit from stability, reliable information, and a functioning democracy may now be expected to underwrite one of its most foundational institutions.

The price tag? $27.5 billion.

A Simple, Uncomfortable Equation

To replace $1.1 billion in federal funding with investment returns, the equation is straightforward. Using a conservative draw rate of 4%—commonly applied by universities and foundations to ensure long-term preservation of capital—an endowment of $27.5 billion would be required to generate that annual payout.

This is not a charity exercise. It is a capital strategy.

To reach this target, two basic donor models stand out:

  • 275 individuals contributing $100 million each
  • 2,750 individuals contributing $10 million each

These figures are within striking distance of the top echelon of American wealth. As of 2024, the United States had over 800 billionaires and more than 23,000 centi-millionaires (individuals with $100 million or more in net worth). Put bluntly, it would require only 1.2% of America’s centi-millionaires to secure the future of public broadcasting in perpetuity.

What’s at Stake for the Elite

There is a growing recognition—even among the ultra-wealthy—that civil society must be preserved, even if governments no longer have the capacity or political will to do so. The fragility of liberal democracy, demonstrated by political polarization, misinformation, and institutional distrust, poses long-term risks not only to the electorate but also to markets, capital flows, and reputational value.

Public broadcasting—independent, educational, and widely trusted—has long been a stabilizing force in this ecosystem. Its reach into rural towns, inner cities, and suburban households makes it a conduit for shared narratives and factual baselines. It is not exaggeration to say that NPR and PBS, through All Things Considered, NewsHour, Frontline, and Sesame Street, have helped preserve a measure of social cohesion in a deeply divided country.

For the ultra-wealthy, losing this infrastructure would not simply be a cultural loss. It would be a strategic risk.

Hence the question: if the state won’t fund it, why won’t they?

The Precedent Is There

Large-scale philanthropic endowments are nothing new. In the past two decades:

  • Michael Bloomberg has donated over $3.3 billion to his alma mater Johns Hopkins University.
  • MacKenzie Scott has given away over $16 billion since 2019.
  • The Gates Foundation operates with a $67 billion endowment and deploys billions annually to global health and education initiatives.
  • Ken Griffin recently contributed $300 million to Harvard University.

Yet public broadcasting—a sector with tangible civic impact—has rarely drawn the same scale of contribution. This may be due in part to its status as a federal recipient, which gave the impression of permanence and stability. That illusion has now evaporated.

What remains is the opportunity to build a truly private-public media model—one whose operating capital is drawn from private wealth but whose editorial independence is legally insulated from donor interference.

A Corporate Response to a Public Crisis

Philanthropists are not the only entities positioned to act. Corporations, particularly those with vested interests in news, content, or public trust, have a strategic imperative to help capitalise such an endowment. Among the most obvious candidates:

  • Technology firms such as Apple, Amazon, Google, and Meta, which dominate digital content distribution and advertising, but face persistent scrutiny over misinformation and platform responsibility.
  • Media conglomerates such as Comcast, Disney, and Paramount, whose own news divisions benefit from a well-informed public and a credible informational ecosystem.
  • Financial firms such as JPMorgan Chase, Goldman Sachs, and BlackRock, for whom geopolitical and social stability underpin long-term asset growth.

Indeed, a structured vehicle—such as a Public Broadcasting Endowment Corporation (PBEC)—could allow corporations to make long-term contributions that are tax-deductible, reputationally beneficial, and materially impactful. Their names need not appear on programming or editorial decisions; the return on investment would be brand credibility and a stronger civic framework.

Moreover, such a fund could become a flagship ESG initiative—aligning corporate interests with measurable civic outcomes.

Structuring the Capital Stack

A diversified funding approach would enhance resilience and buy-in. A potential framework:

Donor TypeTarget ContributionTotal
275 HNWIs @ $100M$27.5 billion100%
OR
1,000 HNWIs @ $10M$10 billion36%
100 Corporates @ $100M$10 billion36%
Broad-based campaign$7.5 billion28%
Total$27.5 billion100%

A broad-based campaign could also complement elite contributions. Imagine a national “Democracy Dividend” campaign: one million Americans pledging $1,000 annually for ten years. That alone would yield $10 billion—a testament to public commitment alongside private wealth.

From Pledge Drives to Private Equity

Public broadcasting has traditionally raised funds through grassroots donations and corporate underwriting. But this model is no longer viable on its own. What is required is a transition from pledge drives to portfolio management.

The envisioned endowment would be governed by a professional board and investment committee, structured similarly to major university endowments. Earnings would be deployed annually to:

  • Sustain local PBS and NPR affiliates, especially in underserved areas
  • Support original investigative journalism and children’s educational content
  • Fund innovation in digital and streaming public media
  • Preserve and digitize historic programming archives
  • Maintain emergency broadcast systems and rural information networks

Crucially, editorial integrity would be enshrined by legal charter—preventing donors or sponsors from influencing content.

Philanthropy as Infrastructure

Too often, philanthropy is reactive—applied to symptoms rather than systems. An endowment, by contrast, is structural. It is a recognition that certain institutions are too important to be left at the mercy of annual budgets, market swings, or election cycles.

The erosion of federal support for public broadcasting is a warning signal. The infrastructure of civic life—fact-based journalism, educational programming, and communal storytelling—requires capital insulation, not just ideological support.

This is not about saving Big Bird or Masterpiece Theatre. It is about fortifying one of the last remaining platforms where Americans—regardless of political identity or geography—encounter one another not as algorithms or enemies, but as citizens.

Will the Wealthy Step Up?

The government has walked away. The funding gap is real. But the wealth to close it is readily available.

If even a fraction of the world’s wealthiest individuals and corporations stepped forward with capital rather than condolences, the future of public broadcasting could shift from a question of survival to a model of strategic, sovereign independence.

In the end, it is not about whether we can raise $27.5 billion. It is whether the people most capable of doing so will finally recognise that their wealth is not a wall—but a bridge to a more stable, informed, and democratic society.

🎯 Key Facts

  • Total CPB federal subsidy rescinded: $1.1 billion
  • This funding supports both PBS and NPR, primarily by supporting local member stations.
  • Goal: Replace $1.1 billion per year in perpetuity through investment returns from an endowment.

📊 Endowment Calculation Assumptions

To generate $1.1 billion annually, the endowment must safely yield that amount without depleting principal.

ScenarioInvestment ReturnAnnual Draw RateRequired Endowment
Conservative5% return4% draw$27.5 billion
Moderate6% return4% draw$27.5 billion
Ambitious8% return5% draw$22 billion

Rule of Thumb:

  • Endowment needed = Annual Budget ÷ Draw Rate
  • So for $1.1 billion with a 4% draw:
    $1,100,000,000 ÷ 0.04 = $27.5 billion

🏛️ Comparisons to Similar Institutions

InstitutionEndowmentNotes
Harvard University$50.7B (2024)Largest university endowment
Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation$67B (2024)Largest U.S. philanthropic fund
NPRN/ADoes not have a large central endowment
Howard University$1B (2024)Largest HBCU endowment

🔄 Alternatives or Supplements

If not a full endowment, partial coverage models could include:

  • A $5B–$10B endowment paired with annual fundraising
  • Public-private consortiums involving universities, foundations, and philanthropists

💡 Final Recommendation

To fully replace the $1.1B annual CPB subsidy, a minimum $27.5 billion endowment would be needed under conservative investment assumptions.
This figure ensures long-term sustainability without needing annual appropriations or political reauthorization.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.