Why donors keep asking for sustainability

I have often been asked by the funding partners, ‘How will this project be sustained after the funding ends?’ While it is a reasonable question, it is also often the wrong one. The development sector has turned ‘sustainability’ into a synonym for ‘what will happen when the donor stops paying?’ The donors ask NGOs to build lasting solutions while often funding them through short-term, restricted projects that make long-term institutional and financial resilience harder to achieve. The real test of sustainability is the possibility of value created by the funding that can continue beyond the project cycle, and whether the economic, institutional or public systems exist to carry that value forward.

If a donor spends money on training women entrepreneurs, establishing community institutions, improving health services or creating livelihood opportunities, it is entirely reasonable to ask what happens when the grant ends. Nobody wants an intervention to disappear the moment the donor’s logo disappears from the last banner. But before asking how a project will survive without the donor, we should ask what exactly is supposed to continue, who is expected to take responsibility for it, and whether the conditions exist to make that possible.

A three-year project can be financially unsustainable but socially transformative, and it can end because its purpose has been achieved. A community institution can survive without the NGO but require continued public or market support. A livelihood intervention can become sustainable because participants increase their incomes, while the organisation delivering it remains dependent on philanthropy. And sometimes ‘sustainability’ simply means that the NGO promises to find another donor, which often is the least convincing of all. For years, development organisations have been encouraged to think about sustainability as an exit strategy. The donor funds the intervention often for 1-3 years, the NGO builds capacity, creates local ownership, establishes linkages and prepares an exit plan, and then the donor leaves and the model is expected to continue. While the logic is attractive, ending external funding and creating sustainability are not necessarily the same thing.

The OECD’s longstanding definition of sustainability in development evaluation focuses on the benefits of an intervention continuing after donor funding ends. That is a useful starting point, but it immediately raises a more important question of what will allow those benefits to continue? Government may take over, communities may contribute, users may pay, markets may generate revenue, or another institution may assume responsibility. Or the intervention may change behaviour or strengthen systems sufficiently that continued external support is no longer necessary. These are fundamentally different pathways, yet grant proposals often treat sustainability as a generic quality that can be added through a paragraph near the end of a concept note.

Consider a women’s entrepreneurship program that trains 5,000 rural women, organises producer collectives, provides business support and connects them to markets. If a donor asks how the program will be sustained after three years, the answer depends entirely on the model. Perhaps producer collectives will become commercially viable, or an anchor company will continue purchasing from the enterprises, while the financial institutions in the entrepreneurial ecosystem will provide working capital, and women will eventually pay for business services. Each possibility requires a different intervention design. If sustainability depends on markets, the project must build a viable market proposition. If it depends on government, public institutions need to be involved from the beginning. If it depends on producer collectives, those organisations need governance, capital and commercial capability. If another donor will be required, the project should be honest about that rather than presenting donor substitution as financial sustainability.

Donors increasingly expect NGOs to be resilient, adaptive and financially sustainable, while many NGOs are funded through short-term, restricted project grants that make precisely that difficult. Recent evidence from Bridgespan’s 2025 research, based on responses from 460 nonprofits and interviews with 51 nonprofit leaders, funders and intermediaries from India, found growing movement towards multiyear funding and greater recognition of core organisational costs, but continuing gaps in organisational development and financial reserves, particularly among smaller and non-metro organisations. Earlier Bridgespan research found that 83% of Indian NGOs surveyed had difficulty securing funding for indirect costs, while more than half had fewer than three months of reserves. Only 18% said they invested adequately in organisational development. Another analysis of 40 relatively well-funded Indian nonprofits found that actual core costs ranged from 5% to 51% of total costs and averaged 19%, while the average coverage provided by key donors was only 9%.

Funders ask organisations to be resilient while funding them as if their only legitimate expenditure is the activity that can be photographed and counted. Donor grants fund the field worker but not always enough of the management system that supports the field worker, training but not necessarily the organisational learning required to improve it, and program delivery while hesitating to fund reserves. Funders ask NGOs to diversify their funding while providing little unrestricted money with which to build their fundraising capacity. Then, three years later, the funder asks why NGOs are not sustainable.

Instead of asking an NGO, ‘How will you sustain this project when our funding ends?’, donors should instead ask, ‘What needs to be true for the benefits of this intervention to continue, and what role should our funding play in creating those conditions?’ This question recognises that philanthropy is often most useful when it finances a transition between two states. A grant can demonstrate that an idea works, absorb early-stage risk, strengthen institutions, develop markets, improve technology or support innovations that government and commercial finance are not yet prepared to fund. The grant should help create the conditions for the next stage. That may mean public financing, market revenue, community ownership, institutional adoption, commercial investment or another form of philanthropy. The appropriate pathway will vary by intervention, for example, a rural entrepreneurship program and a community health program should not be expected to arrive at sustainability through the same route.

This also means donors should sometimes be prepared to fund the less glamorous parts of sustainability. Financial systems are not exciting, NGO reserves are not photogenic, good middle management rarely features in impact stories, and neither do information systems, HR, audit, leadership development or fundraising capacity. Yet these capabilities determine whether an organisation can survive shocks, retain good people, manage resources and deliver programs consistently. Flexible funding is therefore not necessarily the opposite of accountability. It can be an investment in the organisational capacity required to deliver accountability well. A strong organisation with adequate systems and reserves may actually be better positioned to manage restricted program funding, and respond to changing circumstances and protect donor resources.

Then there’s another very important aspect of development programs, where everything cannot be sustained. Some projects end and achieve the desired results/purpose during their lifecycle. A delivery model may become obsolete, a technology may get replaced, a program may fail to produce meaningful results, or a community may no longer need an external intermediary. Continuing to fund something simply because it has existed for five years is institutional inertia and not sustainability.

The objective should therefore be sustainable value, not sustainable projects. This matters because many development challenges are systemic. Poverty, women’s economic exclusion, malnutrition, tuberculosis, climate vulnerability and the lack of decent employment cannot generally be ‘solved’ by a three-year project. At best, a project can change part of the system like improve a service, strengthen an institution, alter incentives, demonstrate a model, influence policy or help people acquire assets and capabilities.

Sometimes the honest answer will be that an intervention requires long-term funding, and there is nothing inherently unsustainable about that. Governments continuously spend money on education, public health, roads, social protection and environmental management. We do not ask whether a public hospital will become financially self-sustaining after three years, but are more interested in it producing sufficient public value to justify continued investment. Perhaps philanthropy should adopt some of the same logic. A community health program that requires continued financing may still be highly valuable if it prevents disease at a cost society is willing to pay. A program supporting children with special needs may never generate revenue, yet its social value can be substantial. 

So sustainability cannot always mean, ‘Can this generate its own revenue?’ That is a business-model question. For many social interventions, the better question is that, Who has a legitimate reason and capacity to pay for this value over the long term? The answer is an appropriate combination of market, government, communities, and philanthropy as per the need. This also places a responsibility on NGOs to become more honest in how they answer sustainability questions. A reassuring paragraph about capacity building, community ownership and exit strategies is not necessarily a credible plan. It’s better to be honest about it and say that the interventions may require continued public expenditure, or a livelihood project would need several more years beyond the grant cycle before it can cover its operating costs, and show the pathway. If another donor will be required, explain why and what will be different by then.

Sustainability becomes more credible when it is treated as a theory of how an intervention will continue to create value, rather than as a promise that the NGO will somehow find money after the current grant ends. We have turned a ,legitimate development objective into a ritual of grant writing. Every proposal has a sustainability section, a sustainability framework, and an exit strategy. Yet none of these, by themselves, answers the fundamental question of what will make this intervention continue to work when the source of money ends. A serious answer requires thinking about incentives, markets, institutions, behaviour, public finance, community ownership and organisational capability. It may require more than one source of funding and more than one institution. It may take five years rather than three. It may require unrestricted funding rather than another tightly earmarked project grant. And sometimes it may require accepting that the value created by a program is important enough to warrant continued investment. Perhaps, then, donors should stop treating sustainability as the final question in a grant proposal, but should be one of the first. So, instead of ‘How will you survive without us?’, the donor should ask, ‘What will exist, who will own it, who will pay for it, who will maintain it, and what should our role be when the grant ends to make the impact sustainable?’ While these are harder questions, I think, they can also lead to better projects. The most sustainable thing a donor can fund is NGOs capability, institution, market, public system or community ownership that makes the original grant less necessary over time.

Role of values and ethics in community practice

Community practice sits at the intersection of social change, participatory development, and human wellbeing. It involves working with individuals, groups, and institutions to enhance quality of life, challenge structural inequalities, and strengthen collective agency. Yet, this transformative process is impossible without a strong foundation of values and ethical principles. Values shape the vision and intention behind community action, while ethics guide the methods and behaviours used to pursue that vision. The integrity of community practice, including its legitimacy, trustworthiness, and long-term impact, depends on how practitioners understand and embody these principles. The presentation on Values and Ethics emphasises core values such as service, social justice, dignity and worth of every person, human relationships, integrity, and competence, alongside ethical guidelines including respect, informed consent, confidentiality, and non-discrimination. These are essential elements of responsible and democratic engagement with communities.

Values represent deeply held beliefs about how the world should be and how people ought to behave. They are moral compasses that guide decisions, priorities, and relationships. Values reflect strong beliefs about desired conditions of life and preferred moral behaviour. In community practice, values shape not only personal conduct but also the philosophies of development interventions, determining whether they foster empowerment or dependency, solidarity or charity, rights or favours.

The value of Service embodies commitment to supporting individuals, families, and communities through concrete actions, volunteerism, and compassionate engagement. During the COVID-19 pandemic, undergraduate and high school student volunteers in India demonstrated extraordinary service through fundraising, relief distribution, care work, and digital support for vulnerable households. Their example illustrates that service is not passive goodwill but active participation in alleviating suffering and building resilience. In development studies, service aligns with Paulo Freire’s notion of praxis, which is reflection combined with action to transform reality.

Community practice is inherently political as it confronts power structures, resource inequities, and systemic barriers that perpetuate marginalization. Social justice means equality, human rights, diversity, and opportunities, ultimately contributing to a happier world. A social justice lens ensures that community work moves beyond charitable assistance to structural transformation. From a development studies perspective, the struggle for social justice requires practitioners to advocate for fair distribution of resources, break discriminatory norms, and amplify voices historically excluded from decision-making. Community practice, therefore, demands values aligned with the SDG 5, SDG 10, and SDG 16. 

Recognizing each individual’s inherent dignity and worth is central to ethical community practice. This aligns with human rights frameworks and Amartya Sen’s capabilities approach, which sees development as expanding freedoms and choices. When community practitioners honour dignity, they see people not just as beneficiaries but as partners, experts in their own lived experience. Respecting dignity involves listening without judgment, avoiding stereotypes, and making sure that interventions do not reduce agency.

Building strong relationships and networks for meaningful community development is very important. Trust is the currency of community practice, developed through transparency, empathy, and accountability. Sustainable change cannot be imposed; it emerges from collaborative relationships among stakeholders such as residents, civil society institutions, governments, and markets. Relational practice aligns with theories of social capital, which argue that cohesive communities with strong networks are better positioned to solve collective problems. When practitioners prioritise relationships, they enable shared ownership and long-term stewardship of change processes.

Integrity, which is non-negotiable and rooted in keeping promises, respecting boundaries, and never betraying trust, is essential for legitimacy in community work. Without integrity, community actors can reproduce harmful dynamics of exploitation or manipulation. Practitioners must therefore be consistent in values and actions, resist corruption, and maintain transparency in financial decisions, participation processes, and communication. Integrity also requires humility in recognizing limitations, acknowledging mistakes, and being accountable for consequences. In a context where communities may have experienced decades of unmet promises, integrity becomes a radical act of restoration.

Competence requires practitioners to continuously build knowledge, develop skills, engage in research, and translate learning into action. Competence includes interdisciplinary understanding of poverty, gender, climate resilience, social policy, participatory methodologies, and cultural sensitivity. Competence protects communities from poorly designed interventions that may cause unintended harm. Attending conferences, reading research, and grounding practice in evidence strengthens professionalism and promotes innovation. Competence also means knowing when to collaborate with subject-matter experts instead of assuming expertise.

Ethics provide guidelines to translate values into action. Ethical principles like commitment, respect, informed consent, privacy & confidentiality, non-discrimination, self-determination, social diversity, and boundaries in physical contact and communication are important. These principles prevent abuse of power, ensure fairness, and build trust. Respect and Informed Consent ensure that community members’ rights are upheld and that participation is voluntary and based on understanding. Informed consent is especially important when dealing with research, data collection, health interventions, or sensitive personal histories. Confidentiality and Privacy protect personal information and reinforce psychological safety. Violating confidentiality can cause social harm and erode trust permanently. Self-determination requires practitioners to facilitate agency rather than impose solutions. Communities must remain decision-makers in development processes, consistent with participatory development frameworks. Non-discrimination and respect for diversity demand active challenge to caste, gender, disability, sexuality, religion, and class barriers. A commitment to inclusion transforms communities into spaces of belonging. Ethical conduct concerning physical boundaries, language, and sexual harassment protects dignity and safety. Such ethics create a culture of accountability that strengthens collective values.

Values and ethics together shape the culture of development practice. They influence how decisions are made, how conflicts are resolved, and how change is pursued. Without ethical foundations, community work risks becoming transactional or extractive. Conversely, when values and ethics guide practice, communities become co-architects of development and not mere beneficiaries. Values and ethics also guide practitioners through complexity. Community practice involves tension, competing expectations, and uncertain environments. Ethical frameworks provide a compass and define clear boundaries, ensuring that actions remain aligned with justice and human dignity.

Values and ethics are not supplementary components of community practice. Values such as service, social justice, integrity, dignity, competence, and the importance of human relationships guide development practitioners to commit to empowerment rather than charity and partnership rather than control. Ethical principles like informed consent, confidentiality, respect, and non-discrimination protect the rights of communities and uphold trust. Together, they create moral, relational, and intellectual foundations necessary for transformative development processes. Ultimately, community practice grounded in strong values and ethics nurtures societies where human potential can flourish, justice is prioritized, and diversity is celebrated. When practitioners act with humility, integrity, and commitment, they not only support community change but also become participants in shaping a more equitable and compassionate world.

Read more

  • Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Penguin.
  • International Federation of Social Workers (2018). Global Social Work Statement of Ethical Principles.
  • Jenkins, R., & Goetz, A. M. (1999). Accounts and accountability: Theoretical implications of the Right to Information movement in India. Third World Quarterly, 20(3).
  • Roy, B. (2010). Learning from Barefoot College. TED.
  • Sen, A. (1999). Development as Freedom. Oxford University Press.