Earlier this year, I wrote a version of this piece for my Brazilian colleagues.
Today, I’m writing to you, members of the international philanthropic community who are interested, or already engaged, with Brazil. I want to share some concerns about the generalized use of the term “Brazilian philanthropy” as if it were one homogeneous field – which it is far from being!
There is a growing tendency — both within Brazil and in some international philanthropy spaces — to use the term “Brazilian philanthropy” as if it referred to a single, cohesive field. Perhaps, in the eagerness of the Private Social Investment (PSI) sector to engage more with international philanthropy, they recently introduced this word and concept to their narratives.
But they are leaving out a huge part of “Brazilian Philanthropy” that has been operating since before they came together as a sector. This mistake has then been reinforced by international specialized media that reproduce this narrative without fully understanding the country’s philanthropic architecture, despite repeated warnings I have personally been bringing up with them.
The result is a distortion. It creates the impression, internationally, that Brazilian philanthropy is primarily — or even exclusively — composed of wealth-based institutions and their initiatives. It is not.
What exists instead are distinct — and largely parallel — infrastructures. Understanding this distinction is not a semantic detail. It shapes how resources flow, how legitimacy is constructed, and ultimately, what outcomes are possible.
Two Parallel infrastructures
In the last several years, the PSI field has engaged with a small number of international philanthropy networks where they participate actively. Among them, an assumption has spread that the Brazilian philanthropy field is either still in formation or primarily composed of wealthholders.
In reality, philanthropy in Brazil — in its classical sense of organized, grantmaking infrastructure — has existed for over 50 years. It was built not from accumulated wealth, but from the need to confront one of the most unequal societies in the world.
Brazil remains among the top 10 most unequal countries globally. Around 1% of landowners control nearly half of all agricultural land. It ranks among the highest in absolute numbers of feminicide, leads globally in murders of transgender people, and has consistently been one of the most dangerous countries for environmental and land defenders.
In this unequal context, two distinct systems for mobilizing and distributing resources emerged.
The independent social and environmental justice funds
Already in the 70s, some Brazilian philanthropic funds began to support social movements. Others followed in the 90s and 2000s, building a strong network of independent social justice and socio-environmental funds — largely with international partners — to support democracy, rights, and environmental protection across Brazil.
These institutions were built to do something very specific: move resources to communities and movements already rooted in their territories.
As the founder of Casa Socio-Environmental Fund, I have been part of building this field for four decades. We developed governance, grantmaking systems, and long-term trust with communities working on racial equity, gender justice, human rights, LGBTQIA+ rights, environmental justice, and democratic resilience.
These funds helped shape national ecosystems such as the Comuá Network, while also contributing to international philanthropic spaces including the Human Rights Funders Network, Environmental Grantmakers Association, EDGE Funders Alliance, and others. Comuá has also become one of the main pillars of The Global South House, actively strengthening the infrastructure of Global South funds set up from within social movements.
For decades, however, this entire infrastructure operated with almost no access to domestic private wealth. International philanthropy sustained much of Brazil’s democratic and socio-environmental fabric.
Even today, many of these funds still rely on international sources for 95–99% of their resources.
The Private Social Investors (PSI)
In parallel, Brazil’s wealthiest families and corporations developed their own approach to social engagement under what is known as “private social investment.”
Through corporate foundations, institutes, and family initiatives, this sector built visible and well-resourced structures — often focused on program implementation rather than grantmaking.
According to sector data, these institutions mobilize approximately 1 billion US dollars each year, with around 80% historically being directed toward education, with a great percentage executed through their own institutions.
In the United States and Europe, large fortunes historically built philanthropic institutions sustained primarily by their own endowments. In Brazil, many wealth-based institutions combine internal capital with active fundraising — including international sources — while operating largely within their own institutional boundaries.
At the same time, justice-oriented funds — designed specifically to redistribute resources — remained structurally disconnected from domestic wealth.
This produced a striking asymmetry. International capital sustained Brazil’s civil society and democratic infrastructure, while domestic wealth consolidated in parallel systems.
I experienced this directly several times. Despite decades of work and more than 5,000 grants distributed through Casa Fund over two decades, several participants tell me they never heard about our work. They were unfamiliar with the broader ecosystem of independent funds.
This is no coincidence. It is the result of two very different visions for the country. The two infrastructures coexist, occasionally meet, but they have not yet converged.
Why Convergence Matters — and Why It Is Already Beginning
Brazil is not simply another national context.
It holds globally strategic ecosystems and deeply rooted civil society networks that operate at the intersection of inequality and environmental degradation.
When capital and territorial intelligence function in separate circuits, solutions remain fragmented. Resources fail to reach those most capable of protecting life-supporting systems.
Convergence could change that.
A new generation of Brazilian wealthholders — and, in some cases, long-standing actors — are reexamining their role in Brazilian society. Some are starting to question the origins of their wealth, the scale of inequality, and the effectiveness of existing models. Many decide to invest in the solutions they believe in, usually creating their own projects, for which they partner with each other, or even with international funders.
But others are beginning to move closer to justice-oriented ecosystems, recognizing they are trustworthy, experienced and best positioned to tackle the most complex inequalities of the country. Instead of choosing to spend on their own infrastructure, they are choosing more cost-effective ways, through partnerships with independent funds.
These are still early steps, but they suggest that the distance between infrastructures is not fixed. It can be reduced intentionally.
If wealth-based institutions and territorially grounded grantmaking infrastructure begin to operate in coherence, Brazil could offer something rare: a model where capital, proximity, and ecological responsibility reinforce one another.
Social justice funds have made many efforts along the years to build dialogue with the PSI sector, but progress is slow. Nonetheless, it is our job to build this relationship ourselves.
For the international field, in these early stages of engagement with Brazil, it is important to recognize that Brazilian philanthropy did not originate with institutionalized wealth. Long-standing international philanthropy institutions have, in fact, sustained democratic and socio-environmental resilience in Brazil for decades.
“Brazilian philanthropy” is not a unified field. It is a landscape of parallel architectures, unequal access to capital, and distinct logics of action.
Engagement that assumes coherence where fragmentation persists is not neutral. It redistributes legitimacy, amplifies certain institutional forms, and can reinforce the very asymmetries it seeks to address.
International funders are not responsible for forcing convergence. But they should want to understand the architecture they are entering. If they don’t, the cost will be borne by the most vulnerable in Brazilian society, prolonging a history of inequality and exclusion we have fought to eradicate for centuries.
