At Prebys Foundation, we believe in the power of community. That’s why we developed our strategic plan in deep collaboration with nonprofit leaders across San Diego County. What we heard from them was exciting.

They wanted our region to lean into its many strengths — as a border community rich in human and biological diversity, as a leader in medical research and healthcare, as a dynamic center of arts and culture, and as a proud military town that had also become a globally relevant center of innovation and entrepreneurship. Most of all, they hoped we would help this region become a place of purpose, opportunity, and belonging for everyone who calls it home.

And yet, as we move into 2025, we find our community facing a new and sobering set of challenges: federal restrictions on speech about equity and climate, freezes on long-awaited grant awards, intimidating attacks on nonprofits, restrictions and rollbacks to research and science, on-again-off-again contracts, the vilification of our fellow human beings, and real or threatened cuts to critical programs that help impoverished families, struggling students, dedicated veterans, Americans vulnerable to discrimination, established refugee and immigrant communities, and even emerging scientists.

To put it mildly, this moment is disorienting. As the boxer Mike Tyson famously said, “Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the mouth.” Seeing so many important organizations, programs, enterprises, and communities — not to mention vulnerable populations — taking so many blows has caused many of us to pause, reflect, and reaffirm our values.

For us in our work, those values are clear. We still believe in belonging and the idea of a San Diego that leans into its world-leading strengths by also embracing the talents, gifts, interests, and many faces of excellence of our diverse and vibrant community.

Unfortunately, values alone don’t keep the lights on. They don’t usher in the next breakthrough in cancer research or deliver meals to shut-ins or ensure that children have enough to eat or craft a work of art that might save a life or inspire a future leader. As Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. wisely noted, “a budget is a moral document.”

The choices we make in funding — what we support and what we cut — reflect our true priorities as a society and who we are as a people. How we make those cuts—through democratic governance, open dialogue, and transparency — matters just as much.

To be clear, I don’t agree with those who see no room for legitimate disagreement about government spending, social policy, immigration, or even diversity, equity, and inclusion programs. Americans do have divergent views on our best path forward, and there’s value in open debate. But when these concerns metastasize into incivility, coercion, and erasure, something is profoundly wrong, and the push-and pull of democratic dialogue becomes impossible. It’s no wonder that the majority of nonprofit leaders in America, including large numbers in San Diego, report feeling deeply dispirited.

We share their concern. Cuts to Medicaid and other lifelines that keep families healthy and stable will make Americans less healthy, our communities more stressed, and the healthcare providers we ultimately all depend on weaker. Similarly, slashing funding for medical research will slow down and eliminate new cures and new treatments that over time would touch every American family. Pretending that variables like race, gender, culture, and even language have no bearing on medicine, how patients are treated, the illnesses they suffer, or how they respond — despite overwhelming evidence to the contrary — will result in worse care for every single one of us.

In San Diego, the stakes are personal for another reason. Medical research and life sciences are areas where America leads the world, and San Diego and California lead America. Why would anyone want to undermine that leadership and with it one of our most important economic drivers?

Like so many places in America, much of what defines our community are the qualities of grace so easily forgotten and sacrificed in moments like this. Our rich arts and culture scene — from traditional organizations to individual artists — is shaped by the beautiful mix of cultures, peoples, and perspectives that come together in this special corner of America. The arts certainly enrich our lives here, but they also fuel our economy, feed our creativity and innovation, and foster civic dialogue in a time when we need it most. Do they also speak truth to power and sometimes offend the mighty? Sure, and that, too, is an essential part of their value in a vibrant community and a free society.

Much more could be said about this — about our young people and the opportunities they seek, their thirst for nature and art and meaning; about all the people in our midst feeling targeted by hatred, racism, and antisemitism simply because of who they are, worried about holding onto rights and freedoms they hoped were secure; about the importance of the environment to a region sitting between the desert and the ocean. The point is not to list everything that feels vulnerable now, but to underscore why this moment deserves the courageous care and exquisite attention of everyone in a position to offer it.

For our part, we are painfully aware that philanthropy cannot fill the gaps being left by federal disinvestment in our community and its nonprofit institutions. We will not pretend otherwise. We know that moral leadership is defined by two moments — when you have power, and when you don’t. No matter how dispirited leaders in our sector may feel right now, we must remember that neither situation is ever fully a given.

Alexis de Tocqueville had it right when he described this country’s civil society as a uniquely precious asset — the goodness at the heart of its greatness. He acknowledged the messiness of what were then called associations, but he asked: “What political power could ever substitute for the countless small enterprises which American citizens carry out daily with the help of associations?” His answer, perhaps even truer today: None.

A country is not a boxing match, and our civil society, along with the values of mutuality, justice, and shared interest it enshrines, should be no one’s punching bag. It is, in fact, the cure to so much of what ails us.

We remain committed to that vision. We fund work that builds a dynamic, equitable, inclusive, and healthy future for San Diego, and we will continue to do so. We will also continue to collaborate with our coalition of the willing — nonprofit and civic leaders, fellow funders, and anyone determined to strengthen our community by making it better for all of us.

Most of all, what we can and will do in this moment is stand alongside our extraordinary community as it navigates this challenging time, and we will work with it to push for the resources, freedom, support, and decency that allow it to play so valuable and distinctive a role  in American society.

Grant Oliphant is CEO of the Prebys Foundation, a major independent foundation working to create an inclusive, equitable, and dynamic future for people across San Diego County. The foundation invests in excellence and opportunity across the arts and culture, medical research, health and well-being, and youth success.