Spend a few minutes online and it quickly becomes clear that we live in an era where people are increasingly comfortable supporting individuals directly. Whether through subscriptions, memberships, tips or donations, there is now a widely accepted belief that people who provide something others enjoy, value or find useful should be able to receive financial support for it. Few people question this. If someone has built an audience, many assume they have earned the right to benefit from it.
Yet a curious contradiction appears when the conversation shifts from individuals to organisations.
Across charities, community groups and non-profits, there remains a persistent expectation that the people responsible for running these organisations should somehow operate to a different standard. The question is often not whether they are effective, whether they are achieving outcomes or whether they are fulfilling their responsibilities. Instead, the question is whether they should be paid at all.
This is strange because organisations do not exist in isolation. Behind every service, campaign, programme or project is a structure that must be maintained. There are financial obligations, governance requirements, legal responsibilities, reporting duties, strategic decisions and operational challenges that have to be managed every single day. In many smaller organisations, these responsibilities are not spread across large teams. They often sit with a handful of people and sometimes with a single individual working extraordinarily long hours to ensure that everything continues to function.
The public sees the visible outputs. They see the campaign, the rescue, the report, the service or the success story. What they do not always see is the infrastructure that makes those things possible. They do not see the funding applications, the compliance requirements, the risk management processes, the meetings, the policies, the budgets, the planning or the endless administrative work that allows an organisation to continue operating.
Without that infrastructure, organisations fail. It is as simple as that.
A charity cannot fulfil its purpose if its accounts are not managed properly. A community organisation cannot deliver services if nobody is overseeing operations. A non-profit cannot demonstrate impact if nobody is collecting data, measuring outcomes and ensuring that objectives are being met. These functions are not optional extras. They are fundamental to the existence of the organisation itself.
This is particularly important because organisations are expected to demonstrate results. They cannot simply claim they are making a difference. They must be able to evidence it. Funders, regulators, donors and stakeholders increasingly expect organisations to show how resources have been used, what outcomes have been achieved and whether they are genuinely fulfilling their stated objectives. Accountability is built into the system.
At the same time, social media has created a new economy built around attention. Individuals can achieve significant influence by sharing information, commenting on issues and distributing content. In some cases, people build large followings by reposting material created by organisations, drawing attention to campaigns or discussing the work of others. Some become highly visible figures within their chosen field and attract financial support from audiences who appreciate their efforts.
There is nothing inherently wrong with this. Awareness can be valuable. Communication can be valuable. Bringing attention to important issues can be valuable.
What is worth examining, however, is how we measure the value being created.
When an organisation receives support, there is usually a clear expectation that it will achieve something tangible. It must demonstrate outcomes, manage resources responsibly and remain accountable for its decisions. When an individual receives support for sharing or discussing the work of others, the expectations are often very different. The public may be supporting a personality, a viewpoint, a source of information or simply someone they enjoy following. The contribution may have value, but it is rarely assessed in the same way.
There is also a question of transparency. Most people understand that charities and non-profits are required to publish accounts, report on their activities and operate within regulatory frameworks. They may not know every detail, but they understand that there are mechanisms designed to provide accountability.
With individuals operating online, the picture is often much less clear.
Many members of the public have little idea how much money some online personalities receive through subscriptions, memberships, gifts, direct donations and other forms of support. A supporter may think they are simply contributing the equivalent of a coffee or a small monthly donation. What they do not necessarily see is the cumulative effect of thousands of people making exactly the same decision.
There is nothing wrong with receiving support from an audience. The more interesting question is whether the public fully understands what they are supporting, what outcomes are being achieved and how much money is actually being generated. In many cases, those questions are never asked. There is no expectation that the individual will publish accounts, demonstrate impact or explain how resources are being used. Support is often based entirely on visibility, familiarity and trust.
This creates an interesting imbalance. Organisations that must publish financial information, justify expenditure and evidence outcomes are often subjected to intense scrutiny. Meanwhile, individuals who may receive substantial sums from public support can operate with comparatively little transparency and far fewer questions about what is being delivered in return.
The result is that recognition and responsibility can become detached from one another. The people receiving the most attention are not necessarily the people carrying the greatest burden. The individual sharing the story may become better known than the people who created it. The commentator may become more visible than the practitioners. The audience may recognise the messenger while remaining largely unaware of the infrastructure that produced the outcome being discussed.
This is not unique to animal welfare. It can be observed across charities, community organisations, activism, journalism, politics and many other fields. Social media rewards visibility because visibility is easy to measure. Followers, views, shares and engagement can all be counted. Responsibility is harder to see. It is found in budgets balanced correctly, regulations complied with, services delivered consistently and organisations that remain effective year after year.
Perhaps that is why the debate about compensation within the non-profit sector often feels so disconnected from reality. The question is rarely whether the work is necessary. The work is obviously necessary because without it the organisation would not survive. The real issue is that much of this work takes place away from public view. It lacks the visibility that modern platforms reward.
Attention undoubtedly has value. Awareness undoubtedly has value. Communication undoubtedly has value. Yet none of these things can replace the people who build, manage and sustain the organisations that turn ideas into outcomes. When we look at who receives support, recognition and public approval, it is worth asking whether we have become so focused on attention that we sometimes overlook the importance of action.
The question is not whether visibility matters. It clearly does. The more important question is whether we have started valuing visibility more highly than the responsibility, expertise and effort required to create meaningful change in the first place.
Because when a charity closes, a community organisation collapses or a non-profit ceases to operate, it quickly becomes apparent what was creating the real value all along. Attention may help people discover a cause, but it is infrastructure, leadership, accountability and action that keep it alive.