Of monsters and margins, or why narrative work should be at the heart of philanthropy now

“The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born: now is the time of monsters.” (A. Gramsci)

This is by far the quote I have heard more often since I entered philanthropy.

It speaks of the unsettling feelings many in the sector have been experiencing when confronted with political events and long-term social and environmental shifts that are deeply and rapidly changing the world as we know it. I like to think this quote also speaks of the chrysalis moment philanthropy is experiencing, as it stands on the brink of radical changes – some desired, some resisted, some feared.

Philanthropy is also navigating feelings of perceived crisis and threat, with additional scrutiny and criticism for its foundational design, perceived ideological leanings and relations with its main stakeholders.

Feelings of fear, frustration, scarcity and powerlessness, as expressed by many in philanthropy, seem at odds coming from a sector with such an abundance of resources, power and influence. And yet, they can be listened to and interpreted as signals of a much-needed transformation, and of questions that need to be answered.

What is the role of philanthropy?
Where lies its deep, ultimate accountability?

We often hear narrative work being dismissed as accessory, something that can wait until more structural and systemic issues are tackled, and more urgent problems are solved, a futile fixation on words while the world is burning.

The reluctance of philanthropy to resource the narrative work of social movements in a structural, sustainable and intentional way is mirrored by its reluctance to engage in narrative work on itself – and yet if philanthropy is to be perceived as an active and powerful force for the social good, it needs to redefine its identity and role in ways that are clearly and directly positioning it where it declares it wants to be.

Mastering communication tools and keeping up to date with evolutions in the landscape is vital, as is reaching audiences where they are. There are important initiatives in affinity spaces specifically devoted to creating the conditions for reflecting, learning, and experimenting collective solutions and supporting the advancement of operational standards that take into consideration power relations and imbalances.

Communication, though, does not happen in a vacuum, and in order to be successful it  must be grounded in the acknowledgement that philanthropy is, by definition, political: from its visions and strategies down to the design of the funding and grantmaking practices, everything derives from a specific – if not always explicit – idea of society, of social systems and relations, and of how change happens.

Yes, philanthropy needs to tell better stories about its role and significance, grounded in reality, not through a lens of aspiration, but centring what it is actually doing in community with other actors in society, and articulating the vision of change it is contributing to. 

For this renewed storytelling not to become void “storyselling” meant to upkeep the status quo, for these stories to be the cornerstones of trust and credibility, of legitimacy and solidarity, philanthropy needs to challenge the very narratives that are holding it back from fulfilling its mandate, the founding myths shaping its design and practice. 

Gramsci, with his praxis philosophy, offers a very clear path forward, grounded in reality, history and action. By centring what is possible and approaching systems as complex but changeable, narratives can be put in practice that centre philanthropy as a resource steward centring people’s lived experiences, sharing power and acting in de-siloed and intersectional ways to advance the greater good.

When we encounter something we do not agree with, something challenging the status quo of our comfort zone, our instinctive reaction is distancing. Gheno and Mastroianni describe it as horizontal and vertical distancing. Horizontal distancing happens by placing the intrusive thought or person as much as possible outside of the perimeter of what directly affects and involves us, while vertical distancing consists of positioning the issues so high and far that we no longer feel a responsibility to act, blaming the system for what we feel is just too big to be changed. The combination of these types of distancing leads to reactions of flight or paralysis.

When confronted with narrative work, the initial reaction of philanthropy has often been to distance itself, considering it too big, too far, too distant, too alien to comfortably and solidly include it in the perimeter of the necessary. Our present cannot afford for philanthropy to be either in flight or in paralysis mode. We need this moment to lead to higher consciousness, greater alignment and unprecedented speed and reactivity.

As we put out fires, as we respond to emergencies, as we process grief and despair, we have enough resources to collectively and intentionally design the future we want to inhabit, and the road leading us from the periphery and the margin through the portal opened by new narratives of philanthropy.

These reflections are based on conversations which took place during the Communications Professionals in Philanthropy Community of Practice event ‘Communicating in Times of Scrutiny’, which took place in Milan in October 2025.