Why DIY won't save P2P fundraising

What Do They Want?

Let’s be real. Today’s fundraisers aren’t waiting for our next program to drop. They’re already in motion. They’re doing what makes sense for them, not what we’ve packaged up for “engagement.” Here’s what that looks like:

They’re polling their friends about a new haircut.

Running Discord channels while gaming.

Auctioning off stuff they no longer want.

Challenging each other, tracking who's ahead, and smack-talking the whole way.

They hunt for information nonstop.

They share what lights them up, without apology.

They go on group dates. They drink matcha. They post the play-by-play.

They don’t distinguish between “online” and “offline.” It’s just their life. And it’s all collaborative.

That’s what we have to facilitate. Not control. Not rebrand. Facilitate.

How We Got Here

Peer-to-peer fundraising took off about four decades ago. I know. I was there.

Back then, you offered a walk, a ride, a run. People showed up. It worked. I mean, it worked. A Leukemia & Lymphoma Society Team in Training originator once told me she could scribble a phone number to register on a fast-food napkin, wipe her mouth with it, toss it on the floor—and still get six sign-ups. That's how hungry people were to show up.

Then along came Choice. That harlot.

Today’s fundraisers? They want autonomy. They want tools. They want to name their own personal campaign, set their own pace, and pick their moment. They don’t need our program. They need our support.

We saw the signs—fundraisers calling us to ask, “Can I do something besides the walk?” We said no. Then we said no again. Then we made “DIY.”

DIY was a band-aid. It let us stop saying no, but it was still built on the bones of our old programs. We never asked, “What would work better for you?” We were too busy bailing water to fix the boat. (In our defense: no money, no time, no buy-in from leadership.)

The Problem with Legacy DIY

We handed people a stripped-down set of walk tools and called it freedom. It wasn’t. It was a workaround.

The folks coming into fundraising now aren’t Boomers avoiding a 5K. They’re digital natives who can code-switch between TikTok and Twitch , Discord and DMs, without blinking. They look at our carefully structured DIY box and walk right around it. Maybe they’ll copy and paste our boilerplate—but they’ll edit it. Oh, they’ll edit it.

As Susan Wynne, Director, Workplace Fundraising & Engagement Programs, Susan G. Komen, said: “When our platforms are stuck in the year 2006, we lose the younger generations who can make their way around the digital universe and will go to the organization that gives them what they need. There’s a lot of good that can come from giving fundraisers the flexibility to get creative and tap their networks, sometimes we just have to get out of our own way.”

DIY was never for them. It was for us.

But now? It's our canary in the coal mine. It’s telling us fundraisers want flexibility, autonomy, tools over templates, and support over structure.

Tools, Not Programs

What if instead of offering a named program with its own logo and rules, we just handed over the tools? Ones like what they already use every day.

The ones they plan parties with.

The ones they run polls with.

The ones they build communities with.

What if we stopped seeing fundraising as “ours to structure” and started seeing it as theirs to lead?

This will feel weird. You won’t have a playbook. You won’t have control. You will save the money you’re spending to stand up yet another sub-brand. And you might just normalize fundraising as something people do as naturally as they donate.

Pretty sure GoFundMe and Tiltify are already proving the point.

Let the Walk Live, But Let the Tools Breathe

Keep the walk/run/ride. They still work. For a segment of your base, they are beloved. For a rare few, like at the Parkinson's Foundation, the traditional format is where community is thoughtfully built, where people are thoughtfully supported.

But don’t confuse that with where we’re going.

You’re trying to reach new audiences—people who weren’t even alive when your current program was built. Let's stop offering cleverly named programs and start offering choice. Let's stop asking, “Want to do our walk?” and start asking, “How can I help fuel your fire?”

Are we willing to evolve, right now, before our supporters evolve beyond us, more than they already have?