In 2014, the mobile camera company GoPro went public, and Nicholas Woodman, the company’s founder and chief executive, was suddenly worth about $3 billion. Later that year, Woodman and his wife, Jill, announced they were establishing a foundation with about $500 million worth of GoPro stock.

The foundation, however, was a donor-advised fund. A 2018 New York Times story noted that, four years later, Woodman’s foundation had no website and hadn’t appeared to have funded any significant charitable operations.

Google co-founder Larry Page’s use of DAFs has also raised concerns. Last December, an analysis by Recode found Page had stocked more than $400 million in DAFs from 2015 to 2017.

​In December 2017, Google co-founder Larry Page made what appeared to be generous donations to two charities. To one charity, according to tax records filed by Page’s foundation, he gave $100 million in cash and stock. To the other, records show, Page gave $80 million in cash.
Two and a half years later, it’s unclear if any of that money funded any charitable works, or if it’s all still sitting in accounts mostly controlled by Page, collecting interest and earning investment income.
That’s because the organizations on the receiving end of Page’s donations were not working charities — such as the American Red Cross or the United Way — but donor-advised funds, a controversial and booming form of philanthropy attracting increasing scrutiny and criticism amid the coronavirus pandemic, as charities face a historic crisis. Page did not reply to a request for comment for this story. Spokesmen at the organizations that received his donations in 2017 — Schwab Charitable and the National Philanthropic Trust — declined to comment, citing privacy rules.

​Known in the industry as DAFs (rhymes with calves) — and criticized by some insiders as “zombie philanthropy” — the money and assets in donor-advised funds are intended to go to charity some day, but there are no payout requirements, and money can sit in a donor-advised fund for decades.
DAFs are the fastest growing form of charitable spending in America, with more than $120 billion in DAF accounts across the country in 2018, according to the most recent industry estimates, up from $45 billion just six years earlier. And while some executives who oversee these funds say critics exaggerate potential abuses, the coronavirus pandemic has prompted a few wealthy DAF users to express rising concern about the way these funds are managed.
“Charities are slammed for work, needing to do more than ever before … and yet this $120 billion is still sitting there … It’s kind of crazy,” said David Risher, a former Microsoft and Amazon executive who — with his wife, Jennifer — launched the #HalfMyDaf campaign in May to try to inspire donors to pay out at least half the money in these accounts to charities this year.
“The money is sitting there because people often have a plan for their philanthropy,” said Jennifer Risher, a former manager at Microsoft and author. “Well, the world is not on plan right now. Now is the moment.”
The Rishers’ echoed concerns raised by Kat Taylor — philanthropist, banking executive and wife to hedge fund manager and former presidential candidate Tom Steyer — who is a vocal critic of the DAF system and has supported draft legislation in California this year that would require more oversight and impose transparency obligations on these funds.
“They were created without, I think, as much oversight and foresight as we should have given them,” Taylor said. “These are the piggy banks of charity. We should be breaking our piggy banks right now.”

​The rise of what some critics denounce as “a perversion of the tax code” traces its roots to 1969, when Congress rewrote the tax code to favor public charities over private foundations, imposing more taxes on private foundations and requiring more public information on their finances.
To Norman Sugarman, a former IRS attorney in Cleveland, this created both concern and opportunity. Sugarman represented community foundations fearful the new law would scare off donors.
“For him, it was important that, no questions asked, these [community foundations] were public charities,” said Lila Corwin Berman, a history professor at Temple University who has written about Sugarman’s role in the popularization of DAFs. “He believed most social problems could be better solved by charity than government, and that individuals should have more control over what their wealth could do for society.”

​Sometimes, however, the money is just moving from one donor-advised fund to another donor-advised fund. A 2017 analysis by the Economist magazine of data from three of the largest donor-advised funds found two of the three largest recipients of their charitable spending were other donor-advised funds. (Account holders can move money and assets from one fund to another in search of better fees.)
“You start to kind of wonder … where is all the money?” David Risher said. “And then you realize that you have these funds that have more than $120 billion parked in them … and when you look at a system like this, you start to realize that there are financial incentives at some organizations, where the status quo is working pretty well for them.”

Original story by Will Hobson, Washington Post. Click here for more.

With just a few days remaining until the June 15 constitutional deadline for enacting a 2020-21 budget, Gov. Gavin Newsom and his fellow Democrats in the Legislature are engaged in a debate over closing a deficit that Newsom pegs at $54 billion.
It is essentially a conflict over how much direct relief, if any, California can expect from President Donald Trump and Congress to cover about $15 billion of the deficit that would remain after other actions have been taken.
Newsom had proposed a $222 billion budget in January and then discarded it after the pandemic struck. He ordered a widespread shutdown affecting economic and personal behavior to deal with it, thus triggering a recession that erased millions of jobs in just a few weeks.
In May, Newsom proposed a revision to his budget proposal that would cut spending to $202 billion and cover the remainder of the gap with some new revenues, some borrowing and some accounting maneuvers. He said $15 billion in cuts, mostly to K-12 education and colleges, would be automatically restored if the state received the federal aid that a $1 trillion House-passed relief bill promised.
Clearly, he intended that cutting the most popular segments of the budget would help spur federal action. It was, however, too much for legislators to digest as they were hit with pleas from hundreds of advocates for services targeted in Newsom’s budget.
Of course, there is the other option — raising taxes. In fact, tax increases of some kind have been used in every major budget crisis of the past half-century.

The Senate’s Democratic leaders proposed, and the Assembly’s leadership later supported, a 180-degree shift from Newsom’s proposal. It would essentially retain the spending he cut on the assumption that the Federal Government will cough up the additional relief, and make reductions in the fall if the money does not materialize.
So despite lots of common ground on the upcoming budget, some key disagreements have surfaced as legislative leaders and Gov. Gavin Newsom hammer out a final deal in advance of a June 15 deadline.
What is different this time: The two sides are negotiating amid a bleak economic scenario, with surging unemployment, greater demand for government services and a deficit that could be as large as $54 billion. And that, undoubtedly, amps up the stress in their private debates.
The fault lines this year show the Legislature and governor at odds over how to manage spending on the coronavirus pandemic, how far the state should go to help undocumented immigrants, and how much to cut schools and safety net programs if the federal government does not come through with additional aid.
While Newsom proposed slashing $14 billion from schools, health care and safety net programs unless the federal government sends funds by July 1, the Legislature’s proposal assumes federal funding will arrive — and if it doesn’t come by Oct. 1, limits cuts to $7 billion by drawing on reserves.
Another schism arose over how much the state should spend to help undocumented immigrants, with lawmakers wanting to go further than Newsom does in extending health care and tax breaks.
Newsom will likely be in the role of saying “no” to a bunch of legislators who are unaccustomed to governing during a recession.
“The definition of good legislation is a compromise that is mutually repugnant to all sides,” said political analyst Sherry Bebitch Jeffe. “And that’s what has to happen.”

​The only certainties are that a budget deal of some kind will be made by June 15, to protect legislators from losing their salaries, and that whatever they enact will be changed repeatedly over the next year as circumstances evolve.

​The only certainties are that a budget deal of some kind will be made by June 15, to protect legislators from losing their salaries, and that whatever they enact will be changed repeatedly over the next year as circumstances evolve.

​As for the schools reopening in the fall of 2020, expect students in face masks at all times; temperature checks at the school entrance and a mix of in-class and online learning. These are just some of the new protective guidelines released on June 8, to more than 10,000 public schools across California as they plan for a much different reopening in the fall.
State Superintendent of Public Instruction Tony Thurmond described the 62-page document as a checklist for schools to consider, however, the recommendations illustrate a number of drastic changes that will need to be made in order for students to return to their classrooms while practicing social distancing. “We know this is just the beginning,” he said.
School districts are planning for the new school year under the financial stress of steep proposed cuts in state funding, which Thurmond and a group of education advocates have said would hamper schools’ ability to reopen if federal assistance doesn’t arrive to cushion the blow.
Using state examples, here’s what a school day might look like from start to end:
 - A student riding the bus to school would wait at their bus stop already equipped with a face covering. Once the bus arrives, there would be seating meant to reduce capacity – one option the guidance suggests is a “zigzag pattern” in which seating by row would be limited to one student on alternating sides.
 - Either on the bus or as they enter campus, the student would have their temperature screened with no-touch thermometers while answering questions from staff about whether they experienced any COVID-19 symptoms, and if anyone in their home has tested positive or has shown symptoms.
 - The student would be in class with a smaller group of classmates. Desks would be spaced six feet apart or more. Teachers too would wear face coverings. 
​ - Everyone handwashes frequently.
 - During recess, schools might consider increasing supervision to make sure students are practicing social distancing. To avoid crowded cafeterias, the student would either eat their lunch in class or with their group of classmates under staggered lunch times.
 - Throughout the day, employees would clean and disinfect areas across campus.

Perhaps the most extreme measure, the state’s guidance anticipates schools would adopt hybrid schedules. That means students either attend school on select days of the week, or most weekdays under staggered start times and shorter hours.
Hybrid scheduling, Thurmond said, would help schools reduce their classroom sizes while accommodate parents who want to keep their children home under distance learning.
“Many of our districts have surveyed their parents and have said that they would like to have the option for distance learning,” Thurmond said.
The state’s guidance also urges schools to consider plans for if and when campuses would have to temporarily close in the fall due to local outbreaks.

California's Assembly speaker and other key lawmakers have backed making it illegal statewide for police to use a type of neck hold that blocks the flow of blood to the brain, a proposal that appears to go beyond any other state.
Major law enforcement groups did not immediately say if they would oppose the move, which comes after a different restraint used by Minneapolis police was blamed for the death of George Floyd, triggering ongoing nationwide protests.
However, the Los Angeles Police Department announced an immediate moratorium on the training and use of the hold until the civilian Board of Police Commissioners can review the issue. Police departments in suburban Pasadena and El Monte and in Santa Ana in Orange County also have suspended use of the technique.
Assembly Speaker Anthony Rendon endorsed legislation that fellow Democratic Assemblyman Mike Gipson said he will amend to make it illegal to use chokeholds and a carotid artery restraint tactic to forcibly detain a suspect.
Officers would still have a variety of tools to control suspects if the hold is banned, ranging from voice commands to night sticks, Tasers, pepper spray and firearms. Sen. Maria Elena Durazo, a bill co-author, said 23 California law enforcement agencies have already limited its use, several in the last week.
On Friday, San Jose Police Chief Eddie Garcia said his department still allows the carotid hold as a last option before lethal force. On Monday he said in a statement that his department already bans chokeholds — which he said are distinct from carotid holds. Chokeholds apply pressure from the front and stop the individual from breathing, while carotid holds are from the side.

Regardless of the outcome of the budget negotiations, and the end of the George Floyd demonstrations, we now enter the fire season amidst a pandemic. While opportunities abound for a few, the many will indeed continue to suffer.
As someone said recently - "2020? I want to tell 2020 that I've had enough, I want to get off and I'll walk from here."