Last
fall, Netflix premiered a three-part documentary that promises viewers a rare
look at the inner life of one of history’s most controversial businessmen. Over
three hours, Inside Bill’s Brain shows us a rare emotional side to Bill Gates
as he processes the loss of his mother and the death of his estranged best
friend and Microsoft cofounder, Paul Allen.
Mostly,
though, the film reinforces the image many of us already had of the ambitious
technologist, insatiable brainiac, and heroic philanthropist. Inside Bill’s
Brain falls into a common trap: attempting to understand the world’s
second-richest human by interviewing people in his sphere of financial
influence.
In the
first episode, director Davis Guggenheim underlines Gates’s expansive intellect
by interviewing Bernie Noe, described as a friend of Gates.
“That’s
a gift, to read 150 pages an hour,” says Noe. “I’m going to say it’s 90 percent
retention. Kind of extraordinary.”
Guggenheim
doesn’t tell audiences that Noe is the principal of Lakeside School, a private
institution to which the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation has given $80
million. The filmmaker also doesn’t mention the extraordinary conflict of
interest this presents: The Gateses used their charitable foundation to enrich
the private school their children attend, which charges students $35,000 a year.
The
documentary’s blind spots are all the more striking in light of the timing of
its release, just as news was trickling out that Bill Gates met multiple times
with convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein to discuss collaborating on
charitable activities, from which Epstein stood to generate millions of dollars
in management fees. Though the collaboration never materialized, it nonetheless
illustrates the moral hazards surrounding the Gates Foundation’s $50 billion
charitable enterprise, whose sprawling activities over the last two decades
have been subject to remarkably little government oversight or public scrutiny.
While
the efforts of fellow billionaire philanthropist Michael Bloomberg to use his
wealth to win the presidency foundered amid intense media criticism, Gates has
proved there is a far easier path to political power, one that allows unelected
billionaires to shape public policy in ways that almost always generate
favorable headlines: charity.
When
Gates announced in 2008 that he would step away from Microsoft to focus his
efforts on philanthropy, he described his intention to work with and through
the private sector to deliver public-goods products and technologies, in the
same way that Microsoft’s computer software expanded horizons and created
economic opportunities. Describing his approach by turns as “creative
capitalism” and “catalytic philanthropy,” Gates oversaw a shift at his
foundation to leverage “all the tools of capitalism” to “connect the promise of
philanthropy with the power of private enterprise.”
The
result has been a new model of charity in which the most direct beneficiaries
are sometimes not the world’s poor but the world’s wealthiest, in which the
goal is not to help the needy but to help the rich help the needy.
Through
an investigation of more than 19,000 charitable grants the Gates Foundation has
made over the last two decades, The Nation has uncovered close to $2 billion in
tax-deductible charitable donations to private companies—including some of the
largest businesses in the world, such as GlaxoSmithKline, Unilever, IBM, and
NBC Universal Media—which are tasked with developing new drugs, improving
sanitation in the developing world, developing financial products for Muslim
consumers, and spreading the good news about this work.
The
Gates Foundation even gave $2 million to Participant Media to promote Davis
Guggenheim’s previous documentary film Waiting for Superman, which pushes one
of the foundation’s signature charity efforts, charter schools—privately managed
public schools. This charitable donation is a small part of the $250 million
the foundation has given to media companies and other groups to influence the
news.
It’s
been a quite unprecedented development, the amount that the Gates Foundation is
gifting to corporations…. I find that flabbergasting, frankly,” says Linsey
McGoey, a professor of sociology at the University of Essex and author of the
book No Such Thing as a Free Gift. “They’ve created one of the most problematic
precedents in the history of foundation giving by essentially opening the door
for corporations to see themselves as deserving charity claimants at a time
when corporate profits are at an all-time high.”
McGoey’s
research has anecdotally highlighted charitable grants the Gates Foundation has
made to private companies, such as a $19 million donation to a Mastercard
affiliate in 2014 to “increase usage of digital financial products by poor
adults” in Kenya. The credit card giant had already articulated its keen
business interest in cultivating new clients from the developing world’s 2.5
billion unbanked people, McGoey says, so why did it need a wealthy
philanthropist to subsidize its work? And why are Bill and Melinda Gates
getting a tax break for this donation?
These
questions seem especially pertinent in light of the fact that the donation to
Mastercard may have delivered financial benefits to the Gates Foundation; at
the time of the donation, in November 2014, the foundation’s endowment had
substantial financial investments in Mastercard through its holdings in Warren
Buffett’s investment company, Berkshire Hathaway. (Buffett himself has pledged
$30 billion to the Gates Foundation. )
The
Nation found close to $250 million in charitable grants from the Gates
Foundation to companies in which the foundation holds corporate stocks and
bonds: Merck, Novartis, GlaxoSmithKline, Vodafone, Sanofi, Ericsson, LG,
Medtronic, Teva, and numerous start-ups—with the grants directed at projects
like developing new drugs and health monitoring systems and creating mobile banking
services.
A
foundation giving a charitable grant to a company that it partly owns—and
stands to benefit from financially—would seem like an obvious conflict of
interest, but judging from the sparse rules that Congress has written governing
private foundations and the IRS’s light enforcement of them, many in the
federal government do not appear to see it that way.
The
Gates Foundation did not respond to specific questions about its work with the
private sector, nor would it provide its own accounting of how much money it
has given to for-profit companies, saying that “many grants are implemented
through a mixture of non-profit and for-profit partners, making it difficult to
evaluate exact spending.”
At
business-friendly events, however, Bill Gates openly promotes his foundation’s
work with companies. In speeches delivered at the American Enterprise Institute
and Microsoft in 2013 and ‘14, he trumpeted the lives his foundation was
saving—in one speech he said 10 million, in another 6 million—through
“partnerships with pharmaceutical companies.”
Yet the
foundation is doing more than simply partnering with companies: It is
subsidizing their research costs, opening up markets for their products, and
bankrolling their bottom lines in ways that, by and large, have never been
publicly examined—even as you and I, dear reader, are subsidizing this work.
Bill
Gates frequently boasts about having paid more taxes—$10 billion—than anyone
else. That may or may not be true; the Gates Foundation would not release his
tax forms or provide any substantiating information. But he may also end up
avoiding more taxes than anyone else, through charitable giving.
By Bill
and Melinda Gates’s estimations, they have seen an 11 percent tax savings on
their $36 billion in charitable donations through 2018, resulting in around $4
billion in avoided taxes. The foundation would not provide any documentation
related to this number, and independent estimates from tax scholars like Ray
Madoff, a law professor at Boston College, indicate that multibillionaires see
tax savings of at least 40 percent—which, for Bill Gates, would amount to $14
billion—when you factor in the tax benefits that charity offers to the
superrich: avoidance of capital gains taxes (normally 15 percent) and estate
taxes (40 percent on everything over $11.58 million, which in Gates’s case is a
lot).
Madoff,
like many tax experts, stresses that these billions of dollars in tax savings
have to be seen as a public subsidy—money that otherwise would have gone to the
US Treasury to help build bridges, do medical research, or close the funding
gap at the IRS (which has resulted in fewer audits of billionaires). If Bill
and Melinda Gates don’t pay their full freight in taxes, the public has to make
up the difference or simply live in a world where governments do less and less
(educating, vaccinating, and researching) and superrich philanthropists do more
and more.
“I think
people often confuse what wealthy people are doing on their own dime and what
[they’re] doing on our dime, and that’s one of the big problems about this
debate,” Madoff notes. “People say, ‘It’s the rich person’s money [to spend as
they wish].’ But when they get significant tax benefits, it’s also our money.
And so that’s why we need to have rules about how they spend our money.”
Naturally,
Big Philanthropy has special interest groups pushing back on the creation of
such rules. The Philanthropy Roundtable defends the wealthiest Americans’
“freedom to give,” describing itself as fighting the “increasing pressures from
some public officials and advocacy groups to subject private philanthropies to
more uniform standards and stricter government regulation.”
The
nonprofit group receives funding from influential right-wing billionaires,
including hundreds of thousands of dollars from the private foundation of
Charles Koch. And it gets substantial funding from the Gates Foundation: nine
grants from 2005 to 2017, worth $2.5 million, mostly for general operating
expenses. A spokesperson for the foundation says these donations are aimed at
“mobilizing voices to advocate for public policies that further enable
charitable giving.”
At a
certain point, however, the Philanthropy Roundtable seems primarily to serve
the private interests of billionaires like the Gateses and Koch who use charity
to influence public policy, with limited oversight and substantial public
subsidies. It’s unclear how the Philanthropy Roundtable’s work contributes to
the Gates Foundation’s charitable missions “to help all people live healthy,
productive lives” and “to empower the poorest in society so they can transform
their lives.”
While
there is no credible argument that Bill and Melinda Gates use charity primarily
as a vehicle to enrich themselves or their foundation, it is difficult to
ignore the occasions where their charitable activities seem to serve mainly
private interests, including theirs—supporting the schools their children
attend, the companies their foundation partly owns, and the special interest
groups that defend wealthy Americans—while generating billions of dollars in
tax savings.
Philanthropy
has also delivered a public relations coup for Bill Gates, dramatically transforming
his reputation as one of the most cutthroat CEOs to one of the most admired
people on earth. And his model of charity, influence, and absolution is
inspiring a new era of controversial tech billionaires like Mark Zuckerberg and
Jeff Bezos, who have begun giving away their billions, sometimes working
directly with Gates.
Gates
was already one of the richest humans on earth in 2008, but he was also an
embattled billionaire, still licking his wounds from a series of legal battles
around the monopolistic business practices that made him so extravagantly
wealthy—and that compelled Microsoft to pay billions of dollars in fines and
settlements.
Gates
did not respond to multiple requests for interviews, but in a recent Q&A
with The Wall Street Journal, he revisited his legal face-off with antitrust
regulators, saying, “I can still explain to you why the government was
completely wrong, but that’s really old news at this point. For me personally,
it did accelerate my move into that next phase, two to five years sooner, of
shifting my focus over to the foundation.”
Gates’s
view of Microsoft as the victim of overzealous antitrust regulations may help
explain the laissez-faire ethos driving his charitable giving. His foundation
has given money to groups that push for industry-friendly government policies
and regulation, including the Drug Information Association (directed by Big
Pharma) and the International Life Sciences Institute (funded by Big Ag). He
has also funded nonprofit think tanks and advocacy groups that want to limit
the role of government or direct its resources toward helping business
interests, like the American Enterprise Institute ($6.8 million), the American
Farm Bureau Foundation ($300,000), the American Legislative Exchange Council
($220,000), and organizations associated with the US Chamber of Commerce ($15.5
million).
Between
2011 and 2014 the Gates Foundation gave roughly $100 million to InBloom, an
educational technology initiative that dissolved in controversy around privacy
issues and its collection of personal data and information about students. To
Diane Ravitch, a professor of education at New York University, InBloom
illustrates the way Gates is “working to push technology in classrooms, to
replace teachers with computers.”
“That
affects Microsoft’s bottom line,” Ravitch observes. “However, I’ve never made
that argument…. [The foundation] is not looking to make money from this
business. They have an ideological interest in free markets.”
Education
isn’t the only area where Gates’s ideological interests overlap with his
financial interests. Microsoft’s bottom line is heavily dependent on patent
protections for its software, and the Gates Foundation has been a strong and
consistent supporter of intellectual property rights, including for the
pharmaceutical companies with which it works closely. These patent protections
are widely criticized for making lifesaving drugs prohibitively expensive,
particularly in the developing world.
“He uses
his philanthropy to advance a pro-patent agenda on pharmaceutical drugs, even
in countries that are really poor,” says longtime Gates critic James Love, the
director of the nonprofit Knowledge Ecology International. “Gates is sort of
the right wing of the public-health movement. He’s always trying to push things
in a pro-corporate direction. He’s a big defender of the big drug companies.
He’s undermining a lot of things that are really necessary to make drugs
affordable to people that are really poor. It’s weird because he gives so much
money to [fight] poverty, and yet he’s the biggest obstacle on a lot of
reforms.”
The
Gates Foundation’s sprawling work with for-profit companies has created a welter
of conflicts of interest, in which the foundation, its three trustees (Bill and
Melinda Gates and Buffett), or their companies could be seen as financially
benefiting from the group’s charitable activities.
Buffett’s
Berkshire Hathaway has billions of dollars in investments in companies that the
foundationhas helped over the years, including Mastercard and Coca-Cola. Bill
Gates long sat on the board of directors at Berkshire, announcing his departure
just last week, and he and his foundation together hold billions of dollars of
equity stake in the investment firm.
The
foundation’s work also appears to overlap with Microsoft’s, to which Gates, in
recent years, has devoted one-third of his workweek. (Gates announced last week
he would be stepping down from the company’s board, but remain involved with
the company as a technology advisor). The Gates Foundation’s $200 million
program to improve public libraries partnered with Microsoft to donate the
company’s software, prompting criticism that the donations were aimed at
“seeding the market” for Microsoft products and “lubricating future sales.”
Elsewhere, Microsoft is investing money studying mosquitoes to help predict
disease outbreaks, working with the same researchers as the foundation. Both
projects involve creating sophisticated robots and traps to collect and analyze
mosquitoes.
“The
foundation and Microsoft are separate entities, and our work is wholly
unrelated to Microsoft,” a Gates Foundation spokesperson says.
In 2002,
The Wall Street Journal reported that Gates and the Gates Foundation’s
endowment made new investments in Cox Communications at the same time that
Microsoft was in discussion with Cox about a variety of business deals. Tax
experts raised questions about self-dealing, noting that foundations can lose
their tax-exempt status if they are found to be using charity for personal gain.
The IRS would not comment on whether it investigated, saying, “Federal law
prohibits us from discussing specific taxpayers or organizations.”
Gates is
notoriously secretive about his personal investments, however, making it
difficult to understand if he stands to gain financially from his foundation’s
activities or the extent to which he does if this happens.
“It’s
hard to draw the line between a) Microsoft; b) his own personal wealth and
investment; and c) the foundation,” says consumer advocate Ralph Nader, one of
Microsoft’s fiercest critics in the 1990s. “There’s been very inadequate media
scrutiny of all that.”
The
foundation’s clearest conflicts of interest may be the grants it gives to
for-profit companies in which it holds investments—large corporations like
Merck and Unilever. A foundation spokesperson said it tries to avoid this kind
of financial conflict but that doing so is difficult because its investment and
charitable arms are firewalled from one another to keep their activities
strictly separate. Bill and Melinda Gates are trustees of both entities,
however, making it difficult to draw a sharp line between the two.
And in
some places, the Gates Foundation explicitly marries its investing and
charitable activities. Gates’ “strategic investment fund,” which the foundation
says is designed to advance its philanthropic goals, not to generate investment
income, includes a $7 million equity stake in the start-up company AgBiome,
whose other investors include the agrochemical companies Monsanto and Syngenta.
The foundation also gave the company $20 million in charitable grants to
develop pesticides for African farmers. Similarly, the foundation has a $50
million stake in Intarcia and an $8 million investment in Just Biotherapeutics,
to which it gave $25 million and $32 million in charitable grants,
respectively, for work related to HIV and malaria. At one point, the foundation
held a 48 percent stake in an HIV diagnostic company called Zyomyx, to which it
previously awarded millions of dollars in charitable grants.
Asked
about these apparent conflicts of interest, the foundation says that grants and
investments “are simply two tools the foundation uses as appropriate to further
its charitable objectives.”
When
Gates began his foundation in 1994, he put his father, Bill Gates Sr., in
charge. A prominent lawyer in Seattle, Gates Sr. was also a civic leader and,
later, a public advocate on issues related to income inequality.
Working
with Chuck Collins, an heir to the Oscar Mayer fortune who gave away much of
his inheritance during his 20s, Gates Sr. helped organize a successful national
campaign in the late 1990s and early 2000s to build political power around
preserving the estate tax, the taxes levied against the assets of the wealthy
after they die.
In
interviews Gates Sr. gave at the time (he has Alzheimer’s disease now and was
not contacted for an interview), his advocacy work seemed designed not to
generate tax revenues but to inspire philanthropy.
“A
wealthy person has an absolute choice as to whether they pay the [estate] tax
or whether they give their wealth to their university or their church or their
foundation,” he told journalist Bill Moyers.
That’s
because when the rich give away their wealth, they reduce the assets that the
estate tax targets. But such an arrangement, whereby the wealthiest Americans
get to decide for themselves whether they want to pay taxes or donate their
money to charity—including to groups that influence government policy—sounds
like a peak example of tone-deaf privilege. In many respects, that’s how the
tax system works for the superrich.
“The
richer you are, the more choice you have between those two,” says Collins, who
today works on income inequality at the nonprofit Institute for Policy Studies.
For some
billionaire philanthropists, it may be less of a choice than an entitlement.
Buffett and Gates have recruited hundreds of millionaires and billionaires to
sign the Giving Pledge, a promise to donate most of their wealth to charity,
which some signatories explicitly cite as an alternative to paying taxes.
According
to Collins, Bill Gates Sr. had a nuanced view that included limiting
billionaires’ tax benefits.
“He said
to me…it’s a problem that his son is going to give—at the time, it was like $80
billion—to the foundation and never have to pay taxes on any of that wealth,”
Collins recalls. “His view was that there should be a cap on the lifetime
amount of wealth that could be given to charity where you get a deduction.”
Around
the time that Collins and Gates Sr. were putting pressure on Congress to make
sure the wealthy pay their fair share of taxes, the younger Gates was running a
multinational company aggressively looking for tax breaks. According to the
assessor’s office for King County, which includes Seattle, Microsoft has filed
402 appeals on its property taxes. Likewise, a 2012 Senate investigation
examined Microsoft’s aggressive use of offshore subsidiaries to save the
company billions of dollars in taxes. And The Seattle Times reported that
Microsoft spent decades creating lucrative, tax-reducing barriers around
corporate profits.
Bill
Gates, nevertheless, has managed to become a leading—and seemingly
progressive—public voice on tax policy. Every year around tax time, he and
Buffett make media appearances decrying how little they pay in taxes, calling
on Congress to raise taxes on the wealthy. At times, however, they advocate
policies that may not actually touch their wealth, such as promoting the estate
tax, which they will likely avoid through charitable donations.
Gates,
along with a growing chorus of billionaires, has also used his public platform
to push back on a proposed wealth tax, supported by both Elizabeth Warren and
Bernie Sanders. A wealth tax would take a percentage of a billionaire’s assets
every year, limiting the accumulation of wealth—and possibly the amount of
money spent on philanthropy. Gates counters that charity work reduces income
inequality.
“Philanthropy
done well not only produces direct benefits for society, it also reduces
dynastic wealth,” he wrote on his blog, GatesNotes.
When the
Gates foundation has faced criticism in regard to its endowment—including
investments in prisons, fast food, the arms industry, pharmaceutical companies,
and fossil fuels—conflicting with its charitable mission to improve health and
well-being, Gates has pushed back in black-and-white terms, calling divestment
a “false solution” that will have “zero” impact.
The
Gates Foundation’s investments are not an insignificant part of its charitable
efforts. Its $50 billion endowment has generated $28.5 billion in investment
income over the last five years. During the same period, the foundation has
given away only $23.5 billion in charitable grants.
In 2007,
in one of the few investigative journalism series ever published about the
foundation, the Los Angeles Times profiled the foundation’s investments in
mortgage lenders involved in subprime loans and for-profit hospitals accused of
performing unneeded surgeries. The Times also noted the foundation’s
investments in chocolate companies that depend on cocoa production using child
labor.
The
Gates Foundation spokesperson says it “does not comment on specific investment
decisions or holdings,” but did note that the “sole purpose” of its endowment
is “to provide income to support the Foundation’s mission and to be capable to
do so over the long term.”
The
Gates Foundation’s endowment currently has an $11.5 billion stake in Berkshire
Hathaway, which in turn has $32 million invested in the chocolate company
Mondelez, which has been criticized in relation to the use of child labor. The
foundation made $32.5 million in charitable donations to the World Cocoa
Foundation, an industry group whose members include Mondelez, for a project to
improve farmer livelihoods. The project doesn’t appear to address child labor.
The tax
reform act of 1969 created special rules to limit the influence that wealthy
philanthropists could exercise through private foundations—in theory ensuring
they produce public benefits rather than serve private interests.
In
practice, these rules give wealthy donors like Bill and Melinda Gates enormous
latitude in their philanthropic activities. For example, when it comes to
self-dealing, the IRS prohibits only the most egregious conflicts of interest,
such as foundations awarding grants to companies controlled by board members.
Likewise, IRS rules broadly allow charitable donations to for-profit companies,
as long as the foundations keep paperwork showing that the money was used to
advance their charitable missions.
But
because the Gates Foundation views market-based solutions and private-sector
innovation as public goods, the line between charity and business can be
indistinguishable. Sociologist Linsey McGoey says, “They’ve defined their
charitable mission so broadly and loosely that literally any for-profit company
could be said to be meeting the Gates Foundation’s general goal of improving
social and global well-being.”
The
IRS’s oversight of private foundations is constrained by recent budget cuts and
its limited mandate to collect taxes from nonprofits like the Gates Foundation,
which are largely free from paying them.
“If
you’re the IRS commissioner and you’re given a finite sum to spend on the
agency, and your job is to make sure the US Treasury has money in it, you are
going to give a token nod to tax-exempt organizations,” says Marc Owens, a
former director of the IRS’s tax-exempt division who is now in private
practice. “One [IRS] agent looking at restaurants in Washington or New York
City is going to generate a lot of money…. One agent looking at private
foundations will probably pay their salary, but it’s not going to bring in tax
dollars.”
According
to IRS statistics, there are around 100,000 private foundations in the United
States, housing close to $1 trillion in assets. However, foundations generally
pay a tax rate of only 1 or 2 percent, and the IRS reports auditing, at most,
263 foundations in 2018.
State
attorneys general can exercise oversight of private foundations, as the New
York attorney general’s office did in 2018 when it investigated Donald Trump’s
private foundation, which shut down amid allegations that he used it for his
personal benefit. The Gates Foundation’s location in Seattle gives the state of
Washington purview over its charitable work, but the state attorney general’s
office there says it did not have full-time staff dedicated to investigating
charitable activities until 2014, a decade after the foundation became the
largest philanthropy in the world. The Washington AG’s office would not comment
on whether it has ever investigated the Gates Foundation.
Bill
Gates’s outsize charitable giving—$36 billion to date—has created a blinding
halo effect around his philanthropic work, as many of the institutions best
placed to scrutinize his foundation are now funded by Gates, including academic
think tanks that churn out uncritical reviews of its charitable efforts and
news outlets that praise its giving or pass on investigating its influence.
In the
absence of outside scrutiny, this private foundation has had far-reaching
effects on public policy, pushing privately run charter schools into states
where courts and voters have rejected them, using earmarked funds to direct the
World Health Organization to work on the foundation’s global health agenda, and
subsidizing Merck’s and Bayer’s entry into developing countries. Gates, who
routinely appears on the Forbes list of the world’s most powerful people, has
proved that philanthropy can buy political influence.
Gates’s
personal wealth is greater today than ever before, around $100 billion, and at
only 64 years of age, he may have decades left to donate this money, picking up
a Nobel Prize along the way or—who knows?—a presidential nomination. The same
could be said of Melinda Gates, who, at 55, recently took a big step into
public life with a highly publicized book tour.
But it’s
also possible that a day of reckoning is coming for Big Philanthropy, Bill
Gates, and the growing number of billionaires following his footsteps into
charity.
Economists,
politicians, and journalists continue to put a spotlight on billionaires who
aren’t paying their fair share of taxes but who shape politics through campaign
contributions and lobbying. Charity is seldom regarded as a tax-avoiding tool
of influence, but if income inequality continues to gain attention, there is
simply no way to avoid asking tough questions of Big Philanthropy. Do
billionaire philanthropists have too much power, with too little public
accountability or transparency? Should the wealthiest Americans have carte
blanche to spend their wealth any way they want?
It may
seem like a radical proposition to challenge the ability or desire of
multibillionaires to give away their fortunes, but such scrutiny has a
historical precedent in mainstream politics. One hundred years ago, when oil
baron John D. Rockefeller asked Congress to provide him with a charter to start
a private foundation, his ambitions were soundly rejected as an anti-democratic
power grab. As Theodore Roosevelt said at the time, “No amount of charities in
spending such fortunes can compensate in any way for the misconduct in
acquiring them.”
Bill
Gates’s Charity Paradox. By Tim Schwab. The Nation , March 17, 2020
No comments:
Post a Comment