|
CONTRIBUTE BLOGS
04/02/2009 18:22
by Marcia Stepanek
When in Britain last week at the Skoll World Forum, I was referred to a recent article in The Observer written by Joss Garman, the 24-year-...
03/02/2009 22:35
by Marcia Stepanek
As the recent copyright woes of Obama poster artist Shepard Fairey show, there's a war raging over what some now are calling a new art form in ...
02/16/2009 07:24
by Marcia Stepanek
I just finished reading an advance copy of "The Blue Sweater: Bridging the Gap Between Rich and Poor in an Interconnected World,&qu...
| |
Advocacy
Courtroom Clash
What was your intent, Mrs. Robertson?
© Urbanhearts
NOTHING INTRIGUES the media as much as a controversial underdog—especially one who wrestles for justice against a giant. The lawsuit brought by A&P supermarket heir William Robertson and members of the Robertson family and their friends against Princeton University casts the Robertsons as underdogs fighting a giant—in this case, the $30 billion dollar-endowed Princeton University.
The family's lawyers assert that the parties are waging a battle over “donor rights”–and argue that Princeton has ignored the original intent of a Robertson donation to the university: The Wall Street Journal in March 2007 said the long, drawn-out Robertson challenge "may be the most important case in higher education over the question of honoring the wishes of the donor.”
This is hogwash. The issue here has nothing to do with donor's rights. Indeed, in none of its papers does Princeton deny its obligation to meet Marie Robertson's intent: such a "donor right" is a given in today’s philanthropic world and nobody needs to file a lawsuit to confirm that right. Ultimately, this case is over the Robertson family's desire to assert more control over the money that keeps flowing to Princeton from Marie Robertson's gift.
Consider the facts of the case. In 1961, the donor, Marie Robertson, the heir to the A&P fortune, granted 700,000 shares of A&P stock, worth at that time $35 million dollars (today worth $880 million) to start the Robertson Foundation. The foundation was to be run by seven trustees; four appointed by Princeton and three from the family and friends of the Robertsons.
The Foundation Certificate of Incorporation authorized the foundation to pay the income on this capital to Princeton University to establish a graduate school at Princeton, as part of its Woodrow Wilson School. The purpose: to strengthen the government of the United States by training men and women for government service – with an emphasis on training for government service in international affairs. The grant also was made to provide scholarships and fellowships in this area, and for programs “in furtherance of the object and purpose of the grant.”
Marie Robertson's son and daughter claim that the language of this grant requires Princeton to use the Robertson money to support only courses in international affairs and only faculty who teach these courses within the Graduate School of the Woodrow Wilson School. The Robertsons further contend that few graduates of this program now work in government services in the international arena and that the program is not a distinguished one.
Princeton, for its part, claims that such a reading would make the Graduate School within the Woodrow Wilson school a “vocational school”—the antithesis of what a Princeton education is all about. Princeton also believes that to work in international affairs, one must have a sophisticated understanding of politics, economics, the social problems we face as a nation, as well as an understanding of global issues. International affairs, Princeton states, are so interrelated with domestic affairs that the two should not and could not be separated. To understand what the United States is doing abroad, in other words, one has to understand what it is doing at home.
And one more point? The Wilson School's certificate of incorporation states that the men and women enrolled in the graduate program may prepare themselves for careers in government service in international affairs: in other words, some students may enroll to take advantage of the School’s public policy program for careers in government service – not restricted to international affairs.
For all of these reasons, Princeton uses the Robertson grant money for faculty in various departments of the university—to provide the interdisciplinary framework for this program. I share with Princeton its belief that such a program should be interdisciplinary. I also think that it's Princeton's business how it wants to teach these courses—and not the responsibility of lawyers, nor the heirs of a donor, nor the members of the Supreme Court of New Jersey.
When all is said and done, I believe,
the real issue
comes down to money
Indeed, it certainly seems that Marie Robertson, herself, would agree. The language in her original grant encourages a broad interpretation of the foundation’s mission; Princeton's 1960s-era press release announcing this gift also stresses the fact that the gift was “designed to prepare personnel for careers in public and international affairs." Princeton has told the court that after the Vietnam War and Watergate, it was harder to get young people to go straight into government, and many students did go “into a more mobile career, moving back and forth, in and out of government service and private companies which did government work.” Nonetheless, according to Princeton's papers in the case, The Woodrow Wilson School continued “to encourage students to enter public service and multinational agencies.” It also regularly examined its faculty and curricula to make certain the school produced “not only top-quality leaders, but also approaches and answers to the problems facing these students.”
All of these documents are public; all of these discussions were held at board meetings. Princeton, over decades, has been consistently open and transparent about the decisions it has been making about the school.
As for the Robertson's current assertion that the Woodrow Wilson School has not done a good job? That, too, is a weak argument: the school’s reputation continues to be one of academic excellence; it has few peers in that distinction.
So after all is said and done, what is this case really about—if not donor's rights? I believe the real issue comes down to money. A concern with donor’s rights sounds less crass than a concern with money. But anyone who has taken the time to read the thousands of pages of complaints, memorandum and court decisions on both sides of this case (which I believe some of the press has not done) would have to conclude that the Robertsons simply want more control over the foundation's money.
And there probably would have been no dispute at all—were it not for a decision by Princeton trustees in 2002 to turn over management of the foundation's assets to Princo, the University’s investment company. Immediately after that announcement, the family filed its complaint, claiming that transferring the money to Princo was a violation of the Certificate of Incorporation of the Foundation. On this, the Court has since spoken. It believes the University had the right to retain Princo, and that the plaintiff’s argument that retaining Princo would violate donor intent was “baseless.” However, the court is still exploring the question of whether Princeton really searched for an alternative to Princo as a management firm.
Princeton claims the papers setting up the foundation state unambiguously that only Princeton can benefit from the grant; the judge in the case, Judge Neil H. Shuster, made it clear that he would sever Princeton’s relationship with the foundation only if he finds “the most agregious and nefarious of circumstances.” He did not rule out that possibility.
And so the case drags on. It has been six years. Shuster retired in March; Superior Court Judge Maria Sypek was appointed his successor, and Sypek has advised both parties that the case would not be heard again until after Jan. 1, 2009.
Regardless of the final outcome, there's already a big lesson for donors here: write a clear grant with language that states, without ambiguity, your intent. If this case underscores that lesson for donors and their lawyers, alike, it will be well worth the $20 million that each of the two sides in this dispute have spent so far on legal fees, money that could have been going to far better use.
_________________________
Naomi B. Levine is chair and executive director of New York University's Heyman Center for Philanthropy and Fundraising and a regular columnist for CONTRIBUTE.
Comment? Send it to editors@contributemedia.com.
|