The gala season is upon us, a time when institutions from universities to hockey teams to magazines roll out the red carpet and hand out awards. But behind the glitz and glamour, does all this merit-awarding actually mean anything? Or is it just an excuse for a fancy party and some good PR? Let's take a look at some recent examples and see if we can find a signal amidst the noise.
The University Award Circuit
The University of Pennsylvania’s upcoming Alumni Award of Merit Gala [No Citations Available] is a prime example. They're honoring a diverse group: from Jackie Einstein Astrof, recognized for her service with PennPAC (which has apparently contributed $12 million in consulting value), to Herman Beavers, a professor being recognized for his community engagement. It's a broad spectrum, which immediately raises a question: what's the unifying principle here?
Is it simply "doing good things"? If so, the criteria seem awfully subjective. Calvin Bland is being honored for expanding opportunity and justice. James H. “Jamie” Greene Jr. is being honored for supporting Penn Athletics. Both are laudable, but are they really comparable? What metrics are used to weigh these contributions? The press release doesn't say, which is a red flag.
Then there's the Creative Spirit Award, going to sculptor Susan T. Marx. Her contributions to the Arthur Ross Gallery and the Penn Museum are undoubtedly valuable, but how does one quantify "creative spirit"? It feels... nebulous. I've looked at hundreds of these alumni award write ups, and the lack of standardized metrics is a recurring theme.
Hockey and Humanitarianism
Switching gears, the Pittsburgh Penguins Foundation is hosting its 7th Annual Night of Assists Gala [No Citations Available]. This one's explicitly for fundraising, with proceeds supporting youth hockey, education, wellness, and community initiatives. Tickets start at $500, so it's clearly targeted at a specific demographic.
The Ebony Power 100 Gala [No Citations Available], on the other hand, seems to be more about celebrating achievement and influence within the Black community. Tracee Ellis Ross was honored as Pathbreaker of the Year, while Teyana Taylor received the Entertainer of the Year Award. Ava DuVernay spoke about the importance of truth and honesty in the face of "dark forces." This is a different beast entirely.
But even here, the question of impact lingers. Ross talked about her show “Solo Traveling With Tracee Ellis Ross” and how it resonated with people. Okay, but how did it resonate? Did it lead to measurable changes in behavior or attitudes? Did it translate into concrete actions? Without that data, it's hard to assess the true "power" being celebrated. Tracee Ellis Ross Honored at Ebony Power 100 Gala as Pathbreaker: “You Do Not Have to Push Out a Baby to Help Push Humanity Forward”
The Gala Math Problem
Here's the core issue: Galas are often presented as vehicles for positive change, but the actual impact is rarely quantified. We see impressive numbers thrown around – $12 million in consulting value from PennPAC, funds raised for the Penguins Foundation – but these figures exist in a vacuum. What's the return on investment? How many lives were meaningfully improved? What's the opportunity cost?
And this is the part of the analysis that I find genuinely puzzling. Organizations are increasingly sophisticated in their data collection and analysis. They track website traffic, social media engagement, donor behavior—everything. Why, then, is there such a reluctance to apply the same rigor to evaluating the impact of their galas?
Are they afraid of what they might find? Perhaps the numbers wouldn't justify the expense and effort. Perhaps they'd reveal that the benefits are concentrated among a small, privileged group. Or perhaps, and this is the most cynical possibility, the primary purpose of these events isn't impact at all, but rather the cultivation of relationships and the reinforcement of existing power structures.
Consider the Naples Zoo gala [No Citations Available]. The article is frustratingly vague. It mentions blending "creativity and conservation for community impact" but provides zero specifics. No dollar amounts, no attendance figures, no details about the zoo's conservation efforts. It's pure fluff.
The lack of transparency is telling. It suggests that the organizers are more interested in generating positive buzz than in demonstrating tangible results. And that, in turn, raises a fundamental question: are we being sold a bill of goods? Are we mistaking celebration for substance?
So, What's the Real Story?
Look, I'm not saying that galas are inherently bad. They can be a valuable way to raise money, recognize achievement, and build community. But we need to approach them with a healthy dose of skepticism. We need to demand more than just feel-good stories and impressive-sounding numbers. We need to see the data. We need to understand the real impact. Otherwise, we're just applauding a very expensive performance.
