Philanthropy, as it stands, is a convenient mask for a deeper issue: we spend our lives hurting others in the pursuit of success. We elbow our way to the top, stepping on those below us, whether through neglect, indifference, or outright exploitation. We accumulate wealth and accolades at the expense of others' happiness, often unaware, or worse, uncaring of the damage we inflict.

Then, at the end of the road, when we've amassed more than we could ever need, we’re suddenly “generous.” We throw money at causes, pat ourselves on the back, and assume that this late-stage giving erases the harm we caused in the process. But this kind of philanthropy isn’t noble; it's a cop-out. Take, for example, the billionaire who spends decades amassing wealth through questionable practices—tax dodging, labor exploitation, environmental degradation—and then, in their final years, sets up a grand foundation. Sure, it's helpful, but does it really right the wrongs committed during their lifetime? It's philanthropy done wrong: a last-minute attempt to buy redemption.

True philanthropy isn’t about financial charity—it’s about the way we live every day. It's in the words we use, the kindness we show, the empathy we extend to others. We don’t need to wait until we’re rich to give.

Consider someone like Fred Rogers, known for his deep, lifelong commitment to children's mental health and well-being. His philanthropy wasn’t about large checks but about daily, thoughtful acts—giving children the dignity of being seen and heard. Over his entire life, his words, his actions, and his belief in kindness were his greatest legacy.

The real impact comes when we act, speak, and live with generosity and integrity in our interactions. Help now, don’t just give away your wealth later. It’s the difference between being truly generous and just playing a game of redemption with your bank account.