I recently attended a fundraiser for a local organization, and it reminded me of why I usually try to avoid those kinds of things. There wasn’t anything particularly wrong with the presentation, and just like in figure skating it contained the required technical elements, while the extra points for style had to be earned.

The mandatory video slide-show was there (complete with tear-jerking slow songs), free food was served to enhance the sense of obligation, the city’s 50 most important people were introduced individually with a round of applause, and the speaker was a VIP whose list of accomplishments read like a small-town phone book. However, his speech was probably recycled from his last appearance, resulting in an automatic point deduction.

OK, so all the elements were there, they were properly executed, but how about the points for style?

Here’s where this group (and most organizations) missed the mark entirely. It’s easy to get the technical elements right. A lot of us have been to plenty of fundraisers, and it’s simple enough just to copy what others are doing.

But that’s not enough. Well, it is enough if your goal is to merely survive long enough until the next fundraiser. It’s enough if you don’t have a vision for doing something worth talking about. Doing something remarkable is what separates guilt-based fundraising from truly inspiring others to give generously.

Most fundraising relies on guilt, though. If your friends have ever invited you to a home candle or kitchenware party, you’ve experienced that guilt firsthand. For those of you who don’t know, the home party business model is a lot like the old Amway model, where you start out selling products to your friends (trading your social contract in for an economic one, and probably straining your friendship), but in this version you pretend it’s more like a party and less like a sales opportunity.

It works, but only temporarily. If the products were that good, the nation’s largest retailers would be climbing over each other to carry them exclusively. Plus, the sales commissions are pretty low, and you’d need 50 friends to spend $20 a month for you to earn $250 per month with the most popular home party businesses. That’s a lot of guilt for such a meager wage.

Churches can often rely on fundraising through guilt as well. When the offering plate doesn’t fill up like it used to, pastors often trot out the money sermon, complete with Bible references to make you feel guilty for not contributing your share. Rather than using the financial shortfall as a teaching moment on the hold that money has on our lives, pastors often take the easy way out and run with the guilt speech. I stopped going to a church in Issaquah for this reason; no teaching, just guilt.

So what could the local organization or the church do differently? Present a vision for doing something remarkable.

People don’t get excited about the things you’re already doing. Yes, they are noble causes, but if you’ve been doing them for a while now, we take it for granted.

Let’s take a church for example. Are you inspired by a message like, “Our giving is down, and we need everyone to contribute more so we can maintain our operations”, or would you prefer, “Our giving is down, but we’re still going to raise money to buy a used van for the food bank, and God will provide for our regular needs.” Personally, I’m inspired by people willing to sacrifice beyond their means, and would donate twice as much to someone who gave me the second message.

The food bank does it right. During the City Council’s grant funding requests, they noted that requests for their services were up 51 percent, but they asked for less money anyway. Their speaker brought up great personal stories of success and hardship, and it moved me to make a donation. No guilt speech; just inspiration.

Tweaking your PowerPoint presentation won’t get it done. Do something worth talking about instead.

Ryan Ryals lives in Maple Valley and writes a weekly column about politics and life in the city.