Time To Stand Taller, Together

Time To Stand Taller, Together: They ain’t heavy; They’re my brothers and sisters

Wall Street loves its shorthand. The “Magnificent Seven” has become a near-mythic label for Alphabet, Amazon, Apple, Meta, Microsoft, Nvidia and Tesla — companies so large, so influential, that their movements can tilt entire indices and the world’s economy. They dominate headlines, shape daily life, and command enormous political and cultural power.

Far from the stock trading floors and earnings calls, another powerful seven operates with equal reach and arguably greater moral weight. In the charitable sector, the Magnificent Seven could be the American Red Cross, The Arc of the United States, Feeding America, Goodwill Industries International, the Salvation Army, United Way and YMCA of the USA.

This grouping of organizations is an example. They can be exchanged for seven other national or regional organizations. The point is that the charitable sector can be found on every street in America and can exert influence.

These organizations are not abstract brands or coastal elites. They are everywhere. They exist in big cities and small towns, in red states and blue states, in rural counties and dense urban neighborhoods. They show up after hurricanes, floods, fires, and during pandemics. They feed families, house the unhoused, train workers, support people with disabilities, shelter survivors of violence, and provide a social safety net that tens of millions of people, both domestic and internationally, rely on when government systems fall short or are shut down by whim.

If Wall Street’s Magnificent Seven power the economy, the charitable sector’s Magnificent Seven, and the sector as a whole, power the country’s conscience.

That is precisely why the sector matters so much in moments of political pressure. It is why nonprofit leaders should not shrink or self-censor in the face of threats, funding cuts, or ideological hostility from Washington and any administration that seeks to weaken the nation’s social fabric.

The American Red Cross remains synonymous with disaster response, often stepping in when government agencies are overwhelmed or delayed. The Arc of the United States has spent decades advocating for and supporting people with intellectual and developmental disabilities, ensuring they are not erased or abandoned by policy shifts.

Feeding America coordinates the nation’s largest hunger-relief network, serving tens of millions of people who work hard and still cannot afford to regularly eat. Goodwill Industries International has demonstrated again and again that workforce development, dignity, and second chances are not charity but smart social investment.

The Salvation Army provides shelter, food, and emergency assistance with an efficiency and geographic reach few organizations can match. United Way has spent more than a century knitting together local nonprofits, businesses, and volunteers to address education, income stability, and health. It understands communities not as data points but as living ecosystems. The YMCA of the USA has been a cornerstone of youth development, public health, and community cohesion since the 19th century, long before “social infrastructure” became a buzzword.

These organizations are not radical. They are not partisan. They are principled. And principle matters when policies threaten to hollow out the very programs that keep communities afloat. As multiple recent studies have shown, the need for the sector’s services has increased of late and it is strongly anticipated it will continue doing so.

The current administration’s approach to social spending, public assistance, and civil society has consistently leaned toward cuts, privatization, suspicion of institutions that serve vulnerable populations, as well as personal animus. Whether through proposed reductions in food assistance, rollbacks in disability protections, threats to disaster funding, or rhetoric that paints nonprofits as wasteful or disloyal, the message has often been clear: fend for yourself, even though funding the federal government is tax dollars from those very communities.

But everyone at the more than one million nonprofits knows something policymakers sometimes forget. That is, when the safety net frays, it does not disappear quietly. It snaps. And when it snaps, the consequences land on real people: children who go hungry, seniors who lose housing and medicine, families stranded after disasters, people with disabilities left without services or advocates.

That is why silence is not neutrality. For institutions with this level of trust, reach, and credibility, silence results in damage. Fighting back does not mean abandoning missions or becoming partisan combatants. It means speaking plainly about impact. It means using data, stories, and lived experience to challenge harmful narratives. It means refusing to accept the framing that charity should quietly mop up damage caused by deliberate policy choices. Nonprofit leaders should not apologize for organizational existence, nor should they contort themselves to avoid political displeasure when lives are on the line.

The charitable sector has long been told to “stay in its lane.” That lane disappears when funding is slashed, regulations are weakened, or entire populations are demonized. United Way cannot address income instability if wages stagnate, and benefits vanish. Feeding America cannot end hunger if food assistance is gutted. The Arc cannot protect people with disabilities if civil rights enforcement is undermined. The Red Cross can’t respond to disasters if preparedness funding is cut.

The sector collectively commands enormous moral authority. The organizations are filled with business leaders and donors across the political spectrum who have decades — and sometimes centuries — of public trust. If they speak together, clearly and without fear, they cannot be dismissed as fringe actors. They are the mainstream.

Just as the stock market’s Magnificent Seven move markets by acting in alignment with structural trends, the charitable sector’s Magnificent Seven, and the collective sector, can move public opinion by aligning around core truths: that compassion is not weakness, that community resilience is a national asset, and that abandoning the vulnerable ultimately costs more — financially and morally — than supporting them.

This is not about opposition for the sake of opposition. It is about defending the infrastructure of care that allows communities to survive political swings. Administrations come and go. Hunger, disability, disaster, and poverty do not. The role of enduring institutions is to outlast political cycles while refusing to bend to them when fundamental values are threatened.

America does not only run on innovation and capital. It runs on trust, service, and solidarity. The sector embodies those values every day, often without fanfare. The sector is already doing the hard work on the ground. Now leadership must come together and speak as one. This is not to suggest leaders have not been having these conversations individually under the radar. The strength is in unity of one diverse voice.

There are leaders who are standing up. The sector would be in real trouble had it not been for the successful lawsuits brought by Democracy Forward, the National Council of Nonprofits and the ACLU. Winning in court is important. The challenge is we are in a time when court decisions are often ignored.

It is time to fight politics with politics. Nonprofit leaders in every Congressional district and municipality need to have a chat with elected officials and explain that numbers matter and constituents will swarm to the polls to oust them. We are already seeing such outcomes, even in states aligned with the current administration. There perhaps has never been a more urgent time for a stream of lings for IRS Section 527 approvals to establish nonprofits’ ability to directly influence elections.

The stock market’s Magnificent Seven chase growth. The charitable sector’s Magnificent Seven protect people. In moments of pressure and threat, that mission is not something to soften or hide. It is something to defend — clearly, collectively, and without fear. It’s long past time to stand up.