The Philanthropic Pivot to Jewish Joy Is Misguided

In recent months, a growing number of voices within Jewish philanthropy have argued that our community has spent too much time focused on threats and not enough time focused on flourishing. The proposed remedy is often framed as a greater investment in Jewish joy.

The argument is understandable. After years of rising antisemitism, political polarization, campus hostility and the trauma of Oct. 7, 2023, many donors are exhausted. They are weary of constantly funding defensive efforts. They are tired of crisis. They want to invest in positive Jewish identity, Jewish culture, Jewish experiences and Jewish flourishing.

Who could object to that?

The problem is not Jewish joy itself. The problem is the growing belief that Jewish joy can replace the difficult work of protecting the conditions that make Jewish flourishing possible in the first place.

A healthy Jewish community requires both. Increasingly, however, philanthropy is acting as though it must choose.

Across the Jewish world, there is a noticeable shift away from supporting efforts that tackle difficult and often controversial challenges: rebuilding democratic norms in Israel, countering Israeli extremism, confronting antisemitism, strengthening public policy protections for Jewish communities, advancing regional integration between Israel and its Arab neighbors and defending liberal democratic values against authoritarian movements that threaten minorities everywhere.

Many of these efforts are messy. They are politically complicated. They often produce outcomes that are difficult to measure. They generate criticism from one side or another.

A Shabbat dinner, a cultural festival or a Jewish arts initiative is far easier to celebrate.

But easier is not always wiser.

The irony is that the very reason many funders feel compelled to invest in Jewish joy is because the underlying conditions facing Jewish communities have deteriorated. Oct. 7 did not emerge from nowhere. The explosion of antisemitism on campuses did not emerge from nowhere. The growing normalization of anti-democratic movements throughout the world did not emerge from nowhere.

These developments were the result of political, educational, technological and ideological forces that evolved over decades. Addressing them requires sustained investment in institutions willing to engage difficult questions and tackle root causes.

Jewish joy can strengthen identity. It cannot stop an Iranian nuclear program. It cannot strengthen democratic institutions. It cannot counter extremist ideologies. It cannot reform social media systems that reward hatred. It cannot build strategic alliances between Israel and its regional partners.

The belief that we can withdraw from these arenas and simply focus inward represents a profound misunderstanding of the challenges before us.

The question is not whether antisemitism remains a serious threat. The question is whether now is the moment to deprioritize efforts to confront it. Given everything we have witnessed since Oct. 7, that conclusion strikes me as premature.

The shortcomings of the antisemitism field should prompt reflection, not retreat. Before redirecting substantial resources elsewhere, we should first understand what has worked, what has failed, and what changes are needed to meet a rapidly evolving threat environment.

If parts of the field have underperformed, the answer is not to pivot away from the challenge. It is to identify which approaches deserve more investment, which deserve less and where entirely new approaches are needed.

Before we conclude that philanthropy should shift its focus from combating antisemitism to promoting Jewish joy, we should first ask whether the field has genuinely had the opportunity to assess what went wrong. Many organizations are still responding to a post-Oct. 7 reality that remains poorly understood, while many funders have yet to undertake the difficult work of determining where consolidation, restructuring, or innovation may be required.

There is another reason the Jewish joy movement gives me pause.

If the goal is to strengthen Jewish identity and create deeper connections to Jewish life, then we cannot ignore one of the central pillars of modern Jewish identity: Israel.

Yet many of the same institutions now championing Jewish joy have still not reckoned with the shortcomings of contemporary Israel education.

For years, too many young Jews were presented with an Israel that felt disconnected from the reality they would eventually encounter. When they later confronted difficult questions about Israeli politics, “the occupation,” religious pluralism, democratic backsliding, corruption or internal social divisions, many felt unprepared. Some felt misled.

If philanthropy wants to invest more heavily in Jewish identity, belonging and joy, then honest Israel education must be part of that agenda.

The answer is not less Israel. The answer is better Israel.

Young Jews deserve an education that acknowledges complexity while remaining rooted in a deep understanding of Israel’s history, achievements, challenges and strategic importance. They deserve opportunities to wrestle with difficult questions rather than being shielded from them.

Just as importantly, they deserve educational spaces that move beyond ideological purity tests. Too often, communal institutions have narrowed the range of acceptable perspectives, creating environments where genuine inquiry is replaced by litmus tests. That approach does not build connection. It builds alienation.

A generation forced to choose between blind celebration and outright rejection will often choose neither. A generation invited into honest engagement is far more likely to develop a lasting sense of ownership and responsibility.

Jewish joy built upon avoidance is fragile. Jewish joy built upon truth is durable.

Ultimately, the debate is not between Jewish joy and Jewish security, Jewish joy and democracy or Jewish joy and Israel.

The real question is whether we are confusing outcomes with prerequisites.

There is nothing wrong with investing in Jewish joy. The mistake is treating it as a substitute for the harder work of defending the conditions that allow Jewish communities to thrive.

Strong communities, effective institutions, democratic resilience, physical security, honest education and meaningful engagement with Israel are what make Jewish flourishing possible. If we neglect those foundations, no amount of investment in joy will compensate for what has been lost.

And if we abandon the difficult work of protecting Jewish communities, defending democratic norms, strengthening Israel’s future, advancing regional integration and confronting the forces that threaten both, we may eventually discover that there is far less to celebrate than we imagined.

Coby Schoffman is a Los Angeles–based serial social entrepreneur and the founder of The Nation Foundation (TNF), which operates project zones across East Africa. Schoffman holds an MSc in Transnational Security from New York University and a BA in Counterterrorism and Conflict Resolution from Reichman University. The views expressed are his own and do not reflect those of any affiliated organization