Philanthropy measured in people
Much philanthropy among wealthy families follows a familiar pattern. A cheque is written to a charity and the donor's involvement largely ends there. William Louey, the fourth-generation head of the family behind Hong Kong's Kowloon Motor Bus Company, does not dismiss that model. Any philanthropy is good, he says, whether a donor writes a cheque or goes deeper. His own route has been the deeper one, and three decades on it offers a clear case study in what Michael Macfarlane calls regenerative philanthropy.
In 1995 Louey founded an educational foundation that has since funded more than 60 scholars, many at Oxford, Cambridge and leading British schools, as well as Harvard and Stanford. Most were selected because they came from underprivileged backgrounds. As Macfarlane notes, some have done so well that they now fund scholarships and education themselves. Louey has met these second-generation scholars, one of whom competed in the Chopin competition at the age of 14. Macfarlane describes the effect as a kind of social impact compound interest, in which the original gift keeps generating returns without the founder needing to add to it.
An honest beginning
Louey is frank that his motives were mixed at first. In his early thirties he noticed how much his peers benefited from their families' networks, and he thought about what network his son would have in future. A 1991 radio interview with an impressive young scholar in Hong Kong gave him an idea. Perhaps these were the people to help, and in doing so the family could build a network of its own.
But then after the first year of doing the scholarship, I became so addicted to helping people that I totally forgot about that. It's not personal anymore.
— William Louey, Wealth Office
The original aim did not disappear entirely. Louey notes that his scholars now help his son, who is starting a business in China, though he describes that as a bonus. The network also feeds back into the family business. When the company developed its app, Louey brainstormed with scholars in New York, London, Tokyo and Hong Kong, and one of them prompted an idea for app-based pick-ups on non-franchised bus routes that he is still considering.
Selection, involvement and time
Three features distinguish Louey's approach. The first is personal selection. Because he funds the scholarships with his own money and raises nothing from others, he interviews every candidate himself. His criteria are simple. Candidates must be poor and they must have drive. He still interviews around 150 young people a year, 50 each in Hong Kong, Beijing and Shanghai.
The second is sustained involvement. Louey attends his scholars' weddings, their parents' birthdays and the births of their children. He describes these relationships as grounding, because his scholars come from a very different background to his own and, as he sees it, represent the majority of people in the world. He compares the feeling to time spent with the company's bus captains and mechanics, where he can be relaxed and himself. He also credits his scholars with keeping him curious, feeding him new ideas about businesses, technologies and treatments.
The third is time. Louey started in his thirties. Some of his friends, he says, regret not following him sooner. Having started in their fifties, they have yet to see their scholars become successful, while he has watched the whole arc, from graduation to careers and then to scholars who fund others. He recalls being puzzled when engineering graduates from Oxford and Cambridge went into investment banking, until they explained it was the way to learn how businesses run. His message to others with the means is to start young, so that they can see the results.
Wealth as a living artwork
Louey's approach to philanthropy rests on a broader view of what wealth is for. He is conscious of a widening wealth gap, which he believes can create unrest. He finds no meaning in a growing bank balance and sees little difference, beyond a certain point, between a house with 50 bedrooms and one with five. At that stage, he argues, people should develop inner happiness rather than look for anything external.
You know, my relationship with my scholars, they are like my artwork. You know, when they, when they flourish, you know, it becomes a beautiful piece of art that lasts for, you know, like maybe 60, 70 years.
— William Louey, Wealth Office
The comparison suits a man who describes himself as artistic and who was accepted by St Martin's before joining the family business. It also suggests a different measure of legacy. Louey's grandmother, who took him to old people's homes from the age of seven and helped disabled children at a time when few others did, shaped his instincts. At her funeral he learned that she had told him about only a tenth of what she did. He says he, too, shares only about a tenth of his own work.
For families considering how to give, Louey's experience points to a few practices worth noting. He chose individuals, stayed personally involved, started early enough to watch outcomes compound, and accepted that the best returns would be human ones. His approach asks more of the donor than a cheque does. In Louey's account, it also gives more back, in relationships, in curiosity and in a happiness he says money alone never provided.