GoFundMe CEO Tim Cadogan was working in his home office on the evening of 7 January when strong Santa Ana winds whipped wildfire flames down the slopes of Mount Wilson and towards his house in Altadena, California.
Although Cadogan and his family were safely evacuated within 20 minutes, the Eaton Fire ultimately took 24 days to contain, killing at least 17 people and destroying an estimated 9,400 structures. It was one of eight wildfires to strike California in January this year.
While Cadogan and his family may have to wait another two months before they can return to their home, he counts himself lucky. Their immediate neighbourhood in Altadena – an unincorporated area, 13 miles north of Los Angeles – was mostly spared, something Cadogan puts down to a “miracle of topography”. However, he remains shaken by the experience. “It’s just been terrible,” he says.
As the chief executive of a crowdfunding site, Cadogan is used to his platform helping others: GoFundMe has raised more than $30bn (£24bn) since it launched in 2010. However, when his family were made temporarily homeless in the wake of the wildfires, Cadogan found himself in the shoes of the people his business was set up to aid.
“It’s been very enlightening and instructive to essentially be a victim as well,” he says. “The stress level affects you very profoundly and I found that, even a couple of days afterwards, my short-term memory and clarity of thought were affected.”
Getting help in times of need
Cadogan is now using his experience to help inform the design of new product features, with the aim of making the website more simple, supportive and intuitive to use. “I’ve told the team how deeply people are affected by this trauma,” he adds. “These moments of crisis elevate our purpose, which is to help people help each other.”
The stress level affects you very profoundly
People find asking for help “fundamentally, psychologically difficult,” Cadogan says. To aid them, GoFundMe is using AI to assist users in crafting a title for their fundraiser, correct the grammar or formatting on their page, or suggest a fundraising goal.
Cadogan compares these AI features to a helpful coach, adding that he wants the GoFundMe user experience to feel like receiving a “big hug” of support. While he hopes AI will help make people feel more comfortable asking for aid, he doesn’t want AI to generate users’ text for them. “People still have to tell their story authentically,” he says.
GoFundMe’s crisis playbook
The LA wildfires prompted GoFundMe users to donate more than $250m (£197m) in support for various fire relief and recovery efforts. This was $20m (£16m) more than the site collected for all other natural disasters last year.
This is part of a growing trend, according to Cadogan. GoFundMe operates a ‘crisis playbook’ when a certain amount of fundraising activity happens within the same area. This usually indicates that a natural disaster or humanitarian crisis is happening in that location.
Since Cadogan became the CEO of GoFundMe in 2020, the business has referred to its crisis playbook almost 100 times. Many of these incidents were for climate-related crises, such as wildfires, hurricanes and floods. This has made GoFundMe an unorthodox indicator of the impact of the climate crisis. “It’s rampant now and it’s increasing,” Cadogan says.
Tackling the critics
According to Cadogan, in times of crisis, GoFundMe can be the quickest way for family and friends directly help those affected. However, this has also led some to criticise the private company for profiting from other people’s generosity.
Following the LA wildfires, GoFundMe was accused of “skimming” donations through the fees it charges for using its platform. Kathryn Barger, a member of the LA County Board of Supervisors, called out the company during a press conference, claiming she was “shocked” to be charged $95 for making a $500 donation.
This desire to help each other is frankly what makes us human
Cadogan, who has since spoken to Barger, says her claims were down to a “misunderstanding”. While there are no up-front fees for using the platform, there are transaction fees charged to those donating – in the UK this amounts to 25p plus 2.9% of the total donation.
A ‘slider’ function also allows people to choose how much they “tip” GoFundMe for its services, which can be set to zero. This was where Barger’s $95 charge came from, Cadogan claims.
While Cadogan says the platform will not be waiving the transaction fees, which are handled by its payment processor, he adds the company is “bending over backwards” to make it clearer that users can opt not to tip GoFundMe.
“We want the most amount of money to go to the person asking for help,” he says, adding that, if anyone has a problem with their payment, they can ask for a refund. “What other company allows its users to decide whether they want to pay or not?” Cadogan asks.
Utopian thinking
With a large proportion of GoFundMe’s revenue being generated from crises, would Cadogan like to see a day where his company’s services are no longer needed?
“I think that’s a utopia,” he says. “There’s a role for government, a role for nonprofits, a role for other organisations and a role for your friends and family to help you. I don’t think that goes away and I don’t think we would want that to go away either.”
Cadogan compares GoFundMe’s role to the way people rally around those in their local community during times of need. “We’re doing the same thing with technology,” he adds. “This desire to help each other is frankly what makes us human. That’s the timeless part of it.”
GoFundMe CEO Tim Cadogan was working in his home office on the evening of 7 January when strong Santa Ana winds whipped wildfire flames down the slopes of Mount Wilson and towards his house in Altadena, California.
Although Cadogan and his family were safely evacuated within 20 minutes, the Eaton Fire ultimately took 24 days to contain, killing at least 17 people and destroying an estimated 9,400 structures. It was one of eight wildfires to strike California in January this year.
While Cadogan and his family may have to wait another two months before they can return to their home, he counts himself lucky. Their immediate neighbourhood in Altadena – an unincorporated area, 13 miles north of Los Angeles – was mostly spared, something Cadogan puts down to a “miracle of topography”. However, he remains shaken by the experience. “It’s just been terrible,” he says.
