Bill Gates is a contradiction: geeky and predatory, an arch-capitalist and history’s most generous philanthropist.
The Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation, which he runs with his wife, is 10 times the size of Rockefeller’s charitable foundation and three times that of Henry Ford’s. It has surpassed the Wellcome Trust, the London charity that was once the world’s largest. Global health, rather than grand libraries, are its chief cause. He has pledged to give away his $46-billion fortune — derived largely from stock in his company — before he dies.
Interviewed in a gigantic London hotel room, he is a slight, nimble and immaculate man. His skin is waxy and his lips plump. He looks shockingly healthy.
At 48 Gates is younger than his philanthropic predecessors and, consequently, his making of money coincides with its giving. This has made some question his motives: why did donations to his foundation swell when his corporate image was sullied by federal anti-trust suits? And why is Microsoft giving cash to British charities to boost access to computers at a time when it faces increasing competition for multi-million-pound public sector contracts? The link, he says, is tenuous. ”Well, actually, it’s hard for people to say that spending $26-billion is like some PR investment,” he says.
To be precise, the foundation has so far spent about $7-billion of its $26-billion endowment. Gates has donated $4-billion to global health, of which $202-million went on fighting malaria and a further $127-million on finding an Aids vaccine in the next decade. Microsoft Community Affairs, his company’s philanthropic arm, has given $247-million in cash and software to 5 000 charities around the world in the past year.
Giving does not win Microsoft government contracts, Gates says. ”If it does, so much the better. But I think those things get evaluated on a purely case-by-case basis.” Neither does it generate a net profit. But, he admits, Microsoft’s image has benefited, ”and maybe a few more users come along. There’s nothing wrong with that”.
The foundation shuns quiet altruism in favour of maximum publicity, flying journalists and photographers around the world to spread the word that Microsoft’s chairperson cares. ”It’s very important to us that we’re not just seen for our great financial results,” he says.
As a freckled-faced Eagle Scout, Gates sold nuts on Seattle’s streets to raise money for his troop. His upper-middle-class parents volunteered for civic committees and fundraised in the city. At dinner time, the family would sit around the table and discuss where the money should go. He was sent to a private school, surrounded by children from wealthier backgrounds. ”They weren’t as hard-working,” he says. ”They weren’t as hungry. I was not born rich at all. The ideal is to grow up without much money and then be lucky enough to make it because your sense of values and hard work get established, knowing that you’ve got to get a job and make your mark.”
Do his three children, all under eight, understand the value of money and why their parents are giving it away? They have a sense of it, Gates says. ”My wife is in India, and we explained to them that there are poor children who don’t have blankets and food, and mum’s going to India to help. Probably the most vivid way they understand that they are a bit lucky is that we have a trampoline room. We say: ‘We’re very lucky and that’s why we have to do these things [give to charity].”’
When Microsoft started to make money, Gates’s mother encouraged him to think about charitable giving. Yet it was billionaire investor Warren Buffet’s protestations at corporate excess that Gates says inspired him to give away his fortune before his death. ”He spoke out some time ago and said passing all of that societal wealth along to kids is not even good for [them]. I agreed with him. But then I said: ‘Wow! That means: What is the cause going to be?”’
One is struck by how Gates’s command of figures is superior to his use of words. It is fitting, therefore, that bad sums rather than rhetoric captured his philanthropic imagination. He put 48 000 computers for the US’s rural poor in 18 000 US libraries, he says. He became aware of the ”tragedy” of world health and discovered that lives could be saved for as little as $100. ”In the poor world, governments just don’t make that happen,” he says.
Vaccines, the search for a push-button solution for polio, malaria and other diseases, arguably appeals to the techno-scientist in Gates. Without them, life in the developing world is 1 000 times less valuable, he says. ”That was shocking to me and that really got me going.”
He was determined to begin his global health programmes straight away, rather than, as he originally envisaged, when he was in his 60s.
Being a ruthless businessman and an idealistic philanthropist might confuse people — ”during the day trying to make money and at night, start giving it away” — but it doesn’t bother him. Gates claims not to be interested in posterity. ”No, you don’t live to be remembered.”
Aside from global health, Gates presents his philanthropy as themeless. His opaque politics has seen him donate to the Republicans and Democrats. Allegiances, one might suppose, are a threat to business moguls.
But his scholarships for minority students, support for gun safety and contraception and opposition to tax cuts suggest liberal leanings. ”Well, if being worried about the digital divide makes you a liberal, then I’m a liberal,” he laughs. ”Inequalities won’t just solve themselves fast enough by letting pure capitalism work on [them].” His money can help move things along, he says.
He reflects that not every wealthy capitalist chooses to give 95% of his or her money to help the world’s poorest countries. Nor should they be forced to. ”I’d like to set an example and show them: ‘Hey, it’s fun to do … I’m trying to be a positive influence on that and show people that the money is used very well. That’s a bit radical.”
He sings the praises of the ”creativity” of non-profit organisations: ”I think the world is recognising the importance of NGOs and how governments should work with them.”
As one of technology’s most devout missionaries, Gates is surprisingly restrained in preaching the benefits of computer literacy. The projects put people on an ”equal footing” in accessing ”the power of the Internet”.
Yes, they give Microsoft ”a good dialogue with non-profit organisations or governments”. But, he says,”when I’m at IT conferences and people say the most important thing in the world is to get people connected to the Internet, I say: ‘Are you kidding me? Have you been to poor countries”’?
In a typical week, he spends up to 60 hours working on Microsoft business and 10 on the foundation. His charitable work is not just about grand gestures. He tells a story about helping his four-year-old son, Rory, on a small-scale volunteer project.
”We were putting together these kits for homeless people — you know, where you put in the toothbrush and toothpaste — and Rory says: ‘This is really nice, Dad, but if these people are homeless, why don’t we give them homes?”’ Gates breaks into laughter. ”We told him: ‘A home costs a little more, but basically, you’re right!”’ — Â