By Lina Irawan 
The report highlights a fundamental difference in the generational maturity of wealth between Asia and other high-income economies. Approximately 94% of the Asian families examined by Bridgespan are either in their first or second generation of wealth creation, a notably younger demographic compared to 85% of wealthy families in high-income economies elsewhere. Crucially, a larger proportion of these Asian families retain direct control over the businesses that generated their fortunes, a figure significantly higher than the 68% observed outside the region. This continued, active ownership is not merely an economic statistic; it profoundly shapes the philosophical underpinnings and operational modalities of their philanthropic endeavors.
The direct link between wealth generation and philanthropic activity manifests most clearly in the prevalence of business-linked giving. In Asia, this model dominates, with 95% of wealthy families in the region’s middle-income economies and a substantial 80% in its high-income ones channeling their charitable contributions through their corporate entities or associated foundations. This contrasts sharply with other high-income economies, where only 28% of wealthy families opt for business-linked giving. The Western paradigm often favors the establishment of independent, often monumental, private foundations. Iconic figures like Bill Gates and Warren Buffett, for instance, chose to create the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation and direct their giving through it, rather than primarily through Microsoft or Berkshire Hathaway, respectively. This structural choice reflects a desire for independence from corporate operations, allowing for a distinct philanthropic strategy.
Gwendolyn Lim, head of Southeast Asia at Bridgespan and a co-author of the report, elucidates this phenomenon: “The level of control that families expect to have over their giving—because they’re still so used to having that level of control over the corporate—is definitely a lot more hands-on.” She attributes this ingrained habit to Asia’s "conglomerate era," a period when visionary tycoons built vast, diversified business empires. These entrepreneurs honed their skills by identifying "gaps in the market" and efficiently running disparate operations, from manufacturing to finance to real estate. When these business leaders turned their attention to philanthropy, they applied the same discerning lens, perceiving similar voids in social services or governance. This business-centric mindset naturally led to the creation of what are known as "operating foundations"—entities that not only provide funding but also directly manage and implement charitable projects, mirroring the operational control they exercise over their commercial enterprises.
In contrast, Western philanthropists often operate within a landscape of mature, well-established civil-society organizations. This robust ecosystem of non-profits, NGOs, and specialized charities allows donors to focus primarily on providing financial grants, trusting existing organizations to execute programs effectively. The Bridgespan report further corroborates this, finding that families in middle-income Asian countries are more inclined to administer their own programs, while those in higher-income countries, though still hands-on, might lean slightly more towards funding external projects, though still with significant oversight. This difference highlights the varying stages of civil society development and the philanthropic response to these varying needs.
Another distinctive feature of Asian philanthropy is its strong inclination to partner with government entities. More than three-quarters of Asian family philanthropies actively collaborate with the state, a significantly higher proportion compared to 58% outside Asia. Lim emphasizes the uniqueness of this willingness to engage with government. Asian business families, accustomed to navigating complex regulatory environments and forging relationships with ministries through their commercial ventures, perceive little qualm in extending this collaborative approach to their charitable activities. This deep-seated familiarity and pragmatic approach to state relations contrasts sharply with the typical stance of many Western donors.
“If you talk to American or European philanthropists, working closely with the government is something that makes them nervous,” Lim explains, noting a visible shift in their demeanor. “Their faces change a little bit. They’re like, ‘Maybe we influence the government from an advocacy perspective.’” Western philanthropists often prioritize independence from state influence, sometimes viewing their role as holding governments accountable or advocating for policy changes from an external position. In Asia, the relationship is often more symbiotic. The Bridgespan report illustrates this by noting that Asian families frequently fund pilot programs to demonstrate the efficacy of innovative solutions. Once these models prove successful, they are often handed over to the government for broader, larger-scale implementation. Lim aptly describes philanthropic families as “usually standard bearers who are able to experiment a lot more,” acting as vital incubators for social innovation that the state can then scale.
Regarding accountability and impact measurement, Asian philanthropists show a greater propensity for reporting their efforts. Over 80% of Asian families report their "outputs"—tangible measures like the number of schools built, teachers trained, or meals distributed. This is significantly higher than the 45% of families in high-income economies elsewhere who report similar metrics. However, the report also uncovers a universal challenge: a relatively small number of philanthropies, both in Asia and globally, effectively report "outcomes." Outcomes, unlike outputs, measure the actual change brought about by an organization’s work—for instance, improved literacy rates due to new schools, or better health outcomes from trained medical staff. Lim candidly admits to a common frustration: “They go: ‘I don’t want to pay you to measure outcomes, but I want you to report on outcomes.’ That’s pretty terrible.” This highlights a crucial gap in understanding and funding true impact, where the desire for results often outpaces the willingness to invest in robust measurement and evaluation.
Beyond individual and family giving, Bridgespan also updated its rankings of the world’s largest corporate and institutional givers, based on average annual giving between 2020 and 2024. The Hong Kong Jockey Club, a unique entity as the city’s sole authorized betting operator, stands out as Asia’s leading corporate philanthropist, donating an impressive $774 million annually. Tencent, the Chinese tech behemoth, follows at $404 million. Globally, the Hong Kong Jockey Club is the only Asian entity to break into the corporate top 10, ranking 8th, though still behind giants like Deutsche Telekom and significantly trailing Johnson & Johnson, which leads the world’s corporate givers with an astonishing $3.8 billion per year.
A substantial portion of the Jockey Club’s philanthropic contributions are channeled through the Hong Kong Jockey Club Charities Trust. This trust, a philanthropic powerhouse in its own right, disbursed an average of $705 million annually between 2020 and 2024, securing its position as the leading Asian philanthropic organization. However, even this formidable sum places it just outside the global top 10 for institutional funders, which is spearheaded by the Gates Foundation, contributing an unparalleled $6.5 billion per year. The combined annual giving of the top 20 Asian philanthropies amounted to $2.7 billion, a figure dwarfed by the global top 20, which collectively gave $21.4 billion. These rankings, along with the family philanthropy report, were commissioned by Bridgespan’s Funders’ Council, which includes influential members such as the Institute of Philanthropy, the Gates Foundation, and the Rockefeller Foundation, and were prominently featured at the Philanthropy for Better Cities Forum, organized by the Jockey Club itself.
The scale of philanthropic giving in Asia, while growing, faces an immense challenge. According to AVPN, a prominent network of Asia-based social investors, the region confronts a staggering development funding shortfall of $26 trillion through 2030. Filling this monumental gap will require unprecedented levels of investment and innovative approaches. “We call philanthropy the first line of risk,” Lim asserts, articulating philanthropy’s unique role. “Philanthropic giving fills the spots where corporates may be too nervous to invest. And family philanthropy is even more at the vanguard of giving.” This highlights philanthropy’s crucial role as a catalyst for experimentation, investing in nascent solutions and high-risk ventures that conventional investors or governments might shy away from.
However, the chasm that Asian philanthropy is being asked to bridge continues to widen. The profound impact of the Trump administration’s dismantling of the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID) cannot be overstated. This policy shift led to the cancellation of approximately 83% of the agency’s programs, severely gutting development budgets in a region where USAID previously spent around $860 million annually. Countries like Indonesia and the Philippines experienced particularly drastic cuts, with program values plummeting by 95% or more. Estimates from the Lowy Institute project that aid financing to Southeast Asia alone could drop by more than $2 billion.
The sheer magnitude of this withdrawal is almost unfathomable. Lim concedes, with a somber realism, that “Nobody can plug the hole left by Washington. Governments can’t fill the gap. Philanthropy can’t fill the gap. There’s not enough money.” This sobering assessment underscores the unprecedented nature of the challenge.
Yet, as the world increasingly acknowledges the "Asian decade"—a period characterized by the region’s burgeoning economic power and growing global influence—the imperative for self-reliance in addressing its social and environmental challenges becomes ever more pressing. “This is the decade where our own people have to help our own people,” Lim concludes. The distinctive, hands-on, and often government-partnered model of Asian philanthropy, though still evolving and facing immense funding gaps, is poised to play an increasingly critical, albeit insufficient, role in navigating the complex developmental landscape of the region, fostering innovation, and driving localized solutions in the face of global uncertainties. The challenge is immense, but the commitment of Asia’s wealthiest families to directly manage and oversee their philanthropic impact offers a unique and potentially powerful pathway forward.
