Opinion: Philanthropy Must Deliver Impact — Not Overheads
There is no shortage of generosity in the UK. Every year, individuals, families and businesses donate substantial sums to causes they believe in. The instinct to give is strong. But good intentions alone are not enough.
If we are serious about changing lives, we must also be serious about impact. Too often, charitable donations are diluted by layers of administration, marketing and associated costs before they reach the people they are intended to serve. By the time funding reaches the frontline, the transformative potential of that gift has been reduced.
This is not about criticising the charitable sector. Many organisations operate under complex regulatory and operational pressures. But it is about asking a harder question: are we giving in a way that genuinely moves the dial?
When my family and I founded The KM Foundation, we made a conscious decision that our philanthropy would be deliberate, targeted and measurable. We would support initiatives where meaningful sums could create structural change — not simply short-term relief.
A clear example is our three-year scholarship programme delivered in partnership with the London Music Fund. Over three years, we are supporting 75 exceptionally talented young musicians from low-income and under-represented backgrounds in London and Birmingham.
These are not token contributions. Each scholar receives substantial financial backing to cover tuition, instrument maintenance and travel, alongside access to elite institutions such as the Royal College of Music and development sessions with the Associated Board of the Royal Schools of Music. When you fund talent properly, you do not simply support an interest — you redirect a life trajectory.
But our focus on impact extends beyond the arts.
In partnership with Orbis, we are supporting an ambitious programme in Tamil Nadu, South India, that will deliver more than 34,000 cataract surgeries, provide 25,000 pairs of eyeglasses and screen over 100,000 people through outreach camps. In regions where access to high-quality eye care is limited, this is not simply medical intervention — it restores independence, economic participation and dignity. That is generational impact in its clearest form.
We are also working to establish Punjab’s first dedicated Laryngology and airway stenosis service, addressing a critical gap in care for a population of 31 million with no existing specialist facility. In collaboration with leading UK clinicians — Professor Guri Sandhu of The London Clinic and Professor Justin Roe of Imperial College London — and in partnership with Sri Guru Ram Das University of Health Sciences and its charitable hospital trust, the project is now providing specialist training and essential equipment to create a sustainable, long-term service. This is about building capacity, not dependency.
We have also backed the Chalke History Festival Schools History Hub, an initiative that strengthens history education by connecting teachers and pupils with world-class historians and resources. In an era where misinformation spreads rapidly and critical thinking is more important than ever, investing in rigorous, accessible education is not a luxury — it is essential.
At first glance, supporting eye care in South India, building specialist airway services in Punjab, nurturing musical excellence in inner-city London and strengthening history education in UK schools may appear disparate. In reality, they share a common thread: access.
Throughout my career in business — most recently in clinical research — I have focused on widening access. In healthcare, access to clinical trials can determine whether patients receive life-changing treatments. Historically, participation has been restricted by geography, infrastructure and awareness. Building businesses that expanded access to clinical research was not simply commercial ambition; it was about removing barriers. That, to me, is legacy.
Philanthropy should operate on the same principle. If talent, health or education is limited by circumstance rather than ability, something is wrong. The role of those fortunate enough to build successful enterprises is not merely to give back, but to give strategically — in ways that dismantle barriers permanently.
That requires discipline. It requires scrutiny of governance and cost structures. It requires asking what proportion of funding reaches the frontline and whether the scale of support is sufficient to create transformational change.
Writing a cheque is easy. Structuring that cheque to produce measurable outcomes is harder.
In business, we are relentless about return on investment. Yet in philanthropy, we are often hesitant to apply similar rigour. We should not be. The return here is measured in restored sight, unlocked potential, strengthened health systems and empowered education. It is measured in futures.
Philanthropy is not about visibility. It is about effectiveness.
If we want to build a society in which talent thrives, preventable conditions are treated and education empowers rather than excludes, then we must fund accordingly. Not symbolically. Not incrementally. But meaningfully.
The question every donor should ask is not “How much did I give?” but “What changed because I gave it?”
If we can answer that clearly — and honestly — then we are not simply donating. We are building something that will endure.