On Evidence, Experimentation and Risk

Q: The peacebuilding field often says it uses evidence to guide its work. From your perspective as a funder, when does evidence genuinely shape decisions, and when does it mainly serve reporting or signaling purposes? And when it does shape decisions, what does that typically look like in practice?

A: I understand peacebuilding to encompass an extraordinary range of human activities from the hyperlocal, like reducing violence in a school or neighborhood, to the global, like efforts to mediate international conflicts. Peacebuilding practitioners, in whatever context they are working, can certainly benefit from analytical frameworks to shed light on what interventions will be successful. The more these frameworks are tested against real-world experience, the better.

When I worked in U.S. government, there were already powerful tools aimed at translating social media sentiment into early warning systems and using advanced game theory to model complex diplomatic negotiations. I’m sure these tools have become more robust in the decade since.

But just because the tools exist doesn’t mean that policymakers will use them, especially when it’s politically inconvenient to do so. For example, in 2012, the United States government created an “Atrocities Prevention Board” to coordinate efforts to monitor and respond to potential atrocities like genocide and war crimes. But there’s little evidence that successive U.S. administrations have paid attention to this mechanism, or that it played any role in tempering the Biden administration’s support for Israel while it killed tens of thousands of civilians in Gaza with U.S. weapons.

I’m excited by the contributions organizations like the Effective Peacebuilding Initiative can make in helping develop practical tools and frameworks so that peacebuilders can become more effective. I hope they can also shed light on the political challenge of incentivizing policymakers to use these tools.

Q: Many peace and security challenges unfold over long time horizons, sometimes decades rather than grant cycles. How do you think about evidence and accountability in work where meaningful outcomes may not be visible for years?

A: To paraphrase Ernest Hemingway, paradigm shifts happen gradually, then suddenly. Political openings that seem inevitable in hindsight are often invisible as they are happening. For example, Syrian civil society has played an extraordinary role in the last year, despite serious capacity and resource limitations, in trying to create a more peaceful trajectory for their country. But those efforts didn’t begin in December 2024, when the Assad regime suddenly collapsed. They were built on decades of struggle, in unbelievably challenging circumstances. Those struggles were often invisible to outsiders, but when political change did finally come in Syria, civil society leaders were ready.

If an organization is successful in everything they do, they are almost certainly not doing consequential work with prospects for meaningful social change.

Few predicted the collapse of the Assad regime in 2024, or the collapse of the Soviet Union or end of apartheid in South Africa in the early 1990s. But there perhaps are indicators of the capacity of civil society ecosystems to rise to the challenge of unexpected political opportunities. For example, has a particular ecosystem of peacebuilders developed a set of core values and strategic objectives that transcend the narrower mission statements of the entities that comprise it? Does the ecosystem foster collaboration and innovation and cultivate new generations of leaders, including women and marginalized voices? Does it innovate, experiment, and demonstrate both resiliency and tactical flexibility?

I’m not sure we’ll ever be able to predict precisely when the openings for social transformation will arrive. But there might be important work to be done on how civil society ecosystems can improve their ability to navigate such moments when they do appear.

Q: I’ve had many conversations with practitioners and scholars about evidence in peacebuilding, and there’s a real split in how people see the problem. Some argue the field is already saturated with data and studies. Others say there is still insufficient evidence to really know what works, especially when compared to fields like economic development or medicine. From your perspective, which of those diagnoses is closer to the truth?

A: I think there are limits, even in the age of big data and AI, in our ability to model complex human systems. If we can’t predict what the stock market will do tomorrow, how can we possibly know what the precise breaking point of the brutal regime in Tehran might be? But while we live in a chaotic and unpredictable world, there is certainly an important role for evidence-based research to help peacebuilders manage that chaos and unpredictability.

Q: In peacebuilding, there are strong incentives to present positive narratives of impact, while inconclusive or negative results are less often surfaced. From your perspective, how real is the risk that lessons are lost because organizations worry about reputational or funding consequences? And what role do funders play in shaping that dynamic?

A: It’s human nature to trumpet our successes. Grantees do that with their donors, and grantmakers do that in turn with their boards. One way to think about this question is to consider how we think about risk in the peacebuilding sector. I’m referring here to the risk to experiment, the risk to challenge status quo thinking, the risk to approach old problems from new perspectives — all of which, of course, means increasing the risks of failure.

An appetite for a certain risk of failure is one of the things that distinguishes private philanthropy from governmental or multilateral donors, which by their nature are far less risk-tolerant. If funders themselves could model that behavior and embrace the risk of failure as an essential ingredient of social change, it might help create space for more honest discussions with their partners about impact.

If an organization is successful in everything they do, they are almost certainly not doing consequential work with prospects for meaningful social change. Plus, failures are often more interesting to read about than successes.

Q: The year 2025 sent shock waves through the peacebuilding sector, with abrupt funding contractions and widespread uncertainty. How did Rockefeller Brothers Fund respond to this shift, both internally and in its relationships with grantees?

A: The Rockefeller Brothers Fund has done several things — which are small steps in themselves but hopefully are meaningful to our partners. First, we have expedited payment processes so that grantee partners receive funding earlier in the calendar year. We have streamlined many of our internal processes. We’ve done scenario planning to game out how we might respond to specific developments.

But our most important response to the various crises, domestic and foreign, has been to remain guided by our values. It is easy to become paralyzed by indecision, uncertainty, or fear in such an environment. Those organizations whose missions are driven by clear values will have a far easier time of it, and I’m proud to work for one such organization.

Of course, the challenges the RBF faces pale in comparison to those of many of our partners. It is a tremendous privilege to be able to support and learn from frontline peacebuilders, working in challenging contexts like Israel-Palestine, Afghanistan, Syria, or Ukraine. Their courage inspires me on those days I’m less optimistic.

Q: Looking ahead, do you expect peacebuilding funding to come back online in the near to medium term? If so, do you expect it to return in familiar forms, or do you think this moment will permanently change how peacebuilding is funded?

A: The global peacebuilding field has historically been undergirded by the United Nations system and various government agencies, especially from Europe. But USAID has been dismantled, the UN is convulsing, and European humanitarian and development agencies are contracting. The net result is that tens of billions of dollars are being taken from the broader international humanitarian and development superstructure, of which the peacebuilding sector is a part. This seems to be a long-term, if not permanent, change and will have cascading impacts in many sectors, particularly in conflict-prone countries.

However, the collapse of the old system is not entirely lamented. It was bureaucratized, inefficient, and highly risk-averse, and frequently led to a centering of highly paid Western consultants who did not necessarily represent the needs of conflict-impacted communities. Private philanthropy cannot replace the billions of dollars that have been withdrawn from the system, much of which may never come back. But perhaps it can help to protect the hugely important pockets of excellence that continue to exist, particularly among grassroots, locally-led peacebuilding efforts, while breaking down operational silos and experimenting with new funding models that encourage innovation and empower local actors. In this way, philanthropy could play an important supporting role in midwifing the new peacebuilding system, while providing hospice to the old.

Q: From your vantage point, what kinds of organizations or approaches are most vulnerable during periods like this? Are there risks that the field loses precisely the kinds of long-term or high-uncertainty peace work that funders often say they value?

A: Those leaders and organizations that can adapt to the new global realities are likely to thrive. That is as true in the field of peacebuilding as it is in any other human endeavor. Unfortunately, many peacebuilding organizations, including important legacy organizations, may find themselves adrift if they cannot adapt. Those that succeed will probably need to find new financial models and perhaps new ways to monetize their expertise. They will likely need to combine a sober strategic clarity with a high degree of tactical flexibility. Because the RBF is interested in systems change, I’m particularly interested in the infrastructure necessary to undergird broader pro-peace movements — including capacities like strategic communications, storytelling, and, of course, defensive capabilities like legal support.

Q: As you look toward 2026 and the near future, what feels most salient for Rockefeller Brothers Fund’s peacebuilding work? Where do you see continuity in the Fund’s approach, and where do you see adaptation?

A: There’s no doubt that the challenges facing peacebuilding communities are immense. But as we’ve already discussed, amid the convulsions of the collapse of the old order, both domestic and international, there are also tremendous opportunities to build broader pro-peace coalitions and invest those coalitions with sufficient political power such that they cannot be ignored by policymakers. Such transformations will not come about without contestation — President Eisenhower’s warnings of the “military-industrial complex” seem as prescient in 2026 as they were in 1961 — but I find some grounds for optimism in the growth of the pro-peace restraint communities, both in the mobilization on the progressive left especially against the war in Gaza, but also among the self-described “America First” camp, elements of which reacted negatively to President Trump’s military actions in Iran and Venezuela.

Q: This is a period of reflection and regrouping for much of the peacebuilding sector. From your vantage point, what guidance would you offer practitioners, funders, and researchers navigating this moment?

A: I’ve had the privilege of meeting fascinating peacebuilders. Not surprisingly, the most inspiring of them convey a clear moral courage that they hold on to dearly, rigorously, and uncompromisingly. But I’ve also noticed a tendency for them to subject everything else — assumptions, methodologies, analytical frameworks — to rigorous challenge, giving them a tactical flexibility even in moments of crisis.