Goodbye, Mr. Olin: When conservative funds dry up.(philanthropic funds)(Statistical Data Included)

Nobody likes to think too much about the death of an aging parent. Yet it's something most people must confront at some awful moment in their lives. Today, conservatives find themselves in this painful predicament as they watch the John M. Olin Foundation head for the grave. They may want to blame Henry Ford II.

That's because Ford quit the Ford Foundation in 1977, complaining that a creation of capitalism had become an enemy of it. "I'm just saying that the system that makes the Foundation possible is very probably worth preserving," he complained in a letter to the board. A man named John M. Olin took note. "This riveted his attention," recalls Michael Joyce, who was executive director of the Olin Foundation from 1979 to 1985. Olin wanted to use his fortune to promote the intellectual and political interests of conservatism-and he also wanted to ensure that his money never fell into the hands of people who had other designs.

Recollections differ as to when and how Olin made clear his desire for his foundation to expire one day; he apparently did not put it in writing. But it is generally agreed that he thought the foundation should not live much longer than his hand-picked successors. He wanted people he knew personally to control the money, and when they were gone, the foundation would go, too. And last year, William Simon, president of the foundation since it assumed its explicitly conservative mission in 1977, died. "All our funding decisions will be made within three years," says Olin executive director James Piereson, "and all of our money will be gone within five years."

When that happens, it will leave a big black hole in the world of conservative philanthropy. Last year, Olin distributed more than $20 million in grants, and its demise is the most obvious sign of an ominous development for the Right: the disappearance of foundations that have made so much of the conservative movement possible. This is not an entirely new problem. In the 1980s, the Smith Richardson Foundation played the same dynamic role for conservatives as Olin, but its focus in recent years has moved sharply away from these causes. Over time, of course, the interests of foundations are bound to change. But the problem for conservatives may be especially acute.

For two or three decades now, the Olin Foundation and its peers have provided venture capital for the most important political movement of our time. Name a meaningful emanation of conservatism-whether it's a think tank like the Heritage Foundation, a debating club like the Federalist Society, or a book like Charles Murray's Losing Ground-and behind it you will find the financial support of these philanthropies. They changed the landscape of American political life, and conservatism would not exist in its current form without them. "They made it possible for a figure like Milton Friedman to go from being considered a fascist to being recognized as a mainstream economist," notes Michael Horowitz of the Hudson Institute.

For its part, the Olin Foundation won't go quietly. Most observers believe it will end with a bang, giving major grants to several of its top projects. This is an odd choice in some ways, given Mr. Olin's determination to keep his money from existing in perpetuity. Who's to say the recipients of these parting gifts will remain as true to his principles as the people now heading his foundation?

Whatever the reasoning, Olin's exit is only a piece of the puzzle. The Milwaukee-based Lynde & Harry Bradley Foundation, which gave out more than $44 million last year, just announced the departure of its president and CEO, Michael Joyce. Another stalwart, Dick Larry, recently retired from the Sarah Scaife Foundation, which dispersed about $18 million in 2000. For anybody who believes personnel is policy, these are troubling developments.