Under Pressure: Navigating Civil Society's Worsening Mental Health

by EJ Jacobs

The nonprofit sector continues to burn out. Organizations fortunate enough to have survived the impact of the COVID-19 pandemic are now having to contend with the rise of totalitarian regimes and the resulting series of unprecedented shocks to the landscape. According to WorldMetrics, 60% of nonprofit employees reported high levels of burnout, resulting in an exodus of core staff. Three quarters of staff who left their jobs cited burnout as the primary cause for their departure. 

But what happens when the option to just pack up and leave is not an option at all?

This is the reality for many organizations operating in the human rights sector, especially those located in civic spaces that are not just shrinking but closing. They are often led and staffed by individuals who continue to stay because their lives and the lives of their community depend on the success of their mission. The latest figures from CIVICUS Monitor indicate that only 3.6% of the world’s population currently live in an open civic society. 

The pressure incurred by human rights defenders can be unbearable: “Working in human rights brings this stress that goes beyond the usual triggers of burnout that are typically related to fundraising,” says one nonprofit leader who spoke under condition of anonymity. “If the objectives are not successful, the first thought doesn’t go to what my donors might think or might do; the first thought is, ‘Is my life at immediate risk? Are the lives of my staff and my community at risk?’ How many years…how many generations will pass before the liberties we are fighting for will return to my community? These thoughts consume me. And then I have to think about the fundraising.”   

No major sector relies more heavily on philanthropic and foreign assistance than civic society, where a typical organization receives less than 10 percent of its revenue from government agencies. The strain of such financial dependency is compounded by the recent enactment of restrictive laws around the world that make it significantly more difficult for nonprofits to operate directly in their communities. Legislation of this kind also affects the already small pool of human rights donors, whose support risks running afoul of these laws. According to Amnesty International, over 50 countries have passed anti-NGO legislation shielded under the guise of anti-terrorism or anti-extremism.

For a sector that has undergone monumental pendulum shifts of gains and losses over the past twenty years, the volatile nature of human rights work has swung mightily in a repressive direction. This has caused a perfect storm of untenable mental health.

In the face of mounting uncertainty, what pathways can be forged to critically address the mental health of civic society?

It is a question that even the experts struggle to resolve. Dr. Tabitha Mpamira is a psychologist and the founder of Mutera, a nonprofit based in East Africa that provides comprehensive support to survivors of sexual violence and domestic abuse, particularly children and women. Despite her wealth of experience dealing with wellness and mental health from all angles, even she has not been immune to the toll this sector can take.

“The person who apparently knows all about well-being, who knows all about trauma healing, who talks so much about balancing the mind, body, and relationships, the one who can do wellness trainings and workshops in her sleep, landed herself in the emergency room,” says Dr. Mpamira, recalling her own recent experience. They couldn’t find anything wrong [with me] but exhaustion. I had vertigo episodes from excessive travelling with little to no sleep.”

This forced Dr. Mpamira to reexamine the relationship she thought she had with her own mental health and look deeper at the actual relationship that her mind and body could no longer deny. “As the leader, I feel responsible for everything. I am trying to take care of my staff as if they were my kids, while trying to take care of my actual kids, all while trying to take care of communities of women and children who desperately need support. Who on that list can you afford to let down?”

Despite—or perhaps because of—her mental health crisis, Dr. Mpamira still sees a path forming towards better mental health for the sector.

“What I tell others in the justice space—and what I put into practice for myself—is that, first and foremost, most of the issues we are working on have been around for as long as humanity has been in existence. Unfortunately, they are going to be here in some shape after we are gone. We can make life better, and that’s what we are working towards. But we cannot do that well if we are not well. Self-care is collective care, and it starts with stripping away the impossible expectations we place upon ourselves or others place upon us.”

Theory of Change Needs an Evolution

The sentiment of unfair expectations has echoed throughout the nonprofit space for decades. In the context of human rights, one target of ire seems to resurface: Theory of Change. The pressure to not only come up with a big idea to gain large-scale, multi-year support, but to pull off this idea, has been seen as a frequent stressor, in both obvious and surprising ways.

In a group discussion with nonprofits working throughout Latin America to end unlawful arrests and incarcerations, one leader of a Mexico-based organization did not hide his disdain for the concept.

“We have a great theory of change. We are going to hold responsible a government that thinks it is too powerful to face consequences for its actions, and we are going to do it using their own laws to show them the power still belongs to the people. If our theory is correct, tens of thousands of people will be released from illegal incarceration, and millions of people will finally believe in justice and in their individual power. But we’re talking about theories of change when the problems are not theories. They are very real, but so are our solutions, even when we don’t get enough funding.”

Another leader had a different take on the effects of Theory of Change.

“For many years, when I contacted donors, they said they didn’t fund human rights. I finally asked one of them why at a conference, and he said because his foundation believed in funding based on Theory of Change. They understood there was too much out of the control of human rights NGOs to implement a sustainable theory of change, so I understood that if there is this Theory of Change piece for the funder, it is impossible maybe to receive funding. But I keep trying because we have no choice.”

Don’t Look Up, Look Forward

Dr. Mpamira sympathizes with the sentiments shared by these nonprofit leaders, but sees this as an opportunity for civic society to create solutions for improved mental health that does not completely involve philanthropy. She recommends building networks with other organizations, not just based on mission strategy but to foster safe spaces and bilateral trauma healing. 

“Looking up to see what philanthropy can do for us sometimes means we are missing what is already in front of our face,” says Dr. Mpamira. “It is important to build community with other leaders, where the outreach is not as difficult, and where it’s very likely you will discover you are experiencing the same things.”

This does not mean that philanthropy cannot be or does not wish to be part of the solution. While the philanthropic community has struggled to keep pace with the demand for adequate support, many foundations are creating replicable examples of how to sustainably support mental health.

Imago Dei Foundation earmarks small grants meant to address the wellbeing of nonprofit teams, leaving it up to the organizations to use as they see fit. Larger-scale funders such as Ford Foundation have moved to enshrine psycho-social support into their grantee relationships, though this support has been criticized by some for focusing more on crises than on wellness. Still, these are encouraging steps forward during tumultuous times. 

Ultimately, donors need sustained, frank and robust input from civic society. Dr. Mpamira offers up a reminder to the sector to not forget its power. “As human rights defenders, as activists and as advocates in the community, we stand up to murderers, to rapists, (and) to corrupt government officials. But we get so nervous to have honest conversations with our donors, who are there to support us in our work and be our allies, about how to support us more meaningfully. To make the relationship work to its fullest potential for everyone involved, don’t wait for them to have the epiphany; be the epiphany they need to have.”

EJ Jacobs

Collectif Senior Strategist EJ Jacobs is the founder and host of the resource center and podcast series Virtual Philanthropy, and the author of The Conversation: Candid Perspectives and Advice on Fundraising Shared By Donors and Nonprofits.