Rosenblum: Anonymous donors spread joy, inspiration

The tale of anonymous donors stuffing thousands of dollars into Salvation Army red kettles is warm and welcome comfort during a cold December week.

The bell ringers have no idea who the givers are, which allows us to cherish the mystery and magic of these generous acts.

Unfortunately, I couldn't stop at the feel-good stage. I've always been curious about the psychology behind Secret Santas of this sort, always wondered why it feels exhilarating, and really hard, to check the box requesting anonymity for my own donations.

Turns out there's intriguing research around this form of giving, but not so much as to spoil things.

So, question No. 1: Do you think the red kettle givers were male or female?

Studies on philanthropy reveal that women are more likely than men to give anonymously. "Typically, men want credit for what they're doing and women are often happy to stay behind the scenes," said Joanna Krotz, a New York-based speaker on women's philanthropy, and the author of "The Guide to Intelligent Giving."

So, they were likely women? Uh, not so fast.

So, it was men? Maybe. Of course, many men donate silently, but they do also love "bright lights that accompany large gifts," Krotz said. They tend to like their name on monuments and hospital wings.

Sticking big bucks anonymously into a kettle could be less rewarding for a man who fills up his emotional tank by hearing, "Wow, you're such a great guy! You didn't have to do this."

OK, the gender of the givers remains a mystery. How about the amount? Does the largesse of the gifts tell us anything?

Again, maybe. Several studies have found that, under anonymous conditions, women give significantly more than men and also that a male-female pairing gives more than same-sex pairs. All-male pairs give the least.

Hmm. Intrepid male-female couples maybe? Still, no certainty there.

Spiritual and religious beliefs do inspire anonymous giving, Krotz said. This took me back to a Twin Cities area husband and wife who bowled me over many months ago when they reached out to help someone I had profiled. Ten thousand bucks there, too, and a request for anonymity.

"Our Christian faith has shaped how we view our finances," the wife explained to me in an impassioned e-mail. "We've always held the belief in our family that we are 'blessed to be a blessing.' Our talents, abilities and finances are meant to flow through us to others. Choosing to stay anonymous allowed the true Giver of this gift to be thanked. We were just the conduit."

Anonymous giving, and plain giving, occupy a high position in Islamic and Jewish traditions, as well. In Judaism, this obligation is called "tzedakah," from the Hebrew word "tzedek," meaning ­righteousness, fairness or justice. In Islam, this obligation is called "sadaqah," which means "strengthening something with something."

"Or you could be an atheist and just be modest," Krotz said. "It's an incredibly personal preference."

Sometimes, the preference for anonymity is more practical than altruistic, she noted. Maybe your family doesn't like the causes you support. Maybe you don't want to be inundated by other charities requesting similar gifts.

The donor gave to nearly 20 universities, many of them non-Ivy League public institutions in the Northeast and Midwest.

While applauding the giver's generosity, Krotz sensed that the donor was female. Her clue? Women tend to give big to educational ­organizations, due to their affinity for the investment in children and social change. Men give more to institutions and legacy funds, as well as hospitals and universities doing research into illnesses such as prostate cancer.

Krotz wanted that suspected "anonymous wealthy older female donor" to stand up and be accounted for.

"We need role models for women who give," Krotz reasoned. "Bill Gates. Warren Buffett. Michael Bloomberg, George Soros. Michael Dell. Absent Oprah, who's your favorite female philanthropist?

"It ought to be perfectly ordinary to hear about a woman giving at this level," she wrote. (She never heard back from the donor.)

It's the season for magic. Let it be.

As those familiar bells ring, though, let the bold sound remind us of the many needs in our community. Choose your charity. Choose to give openly or in secret.

But, please, do give.

gail.rosenblum@startribune.com