Years ago, I approached a young businessman about the possibility of him joining the board of trustees of the university where I was serving as president at the time. He was open to the idea, but he didn’t commit right away. Then, and subsequently, I did the “presidential good thing” and pitched, lobbied, cajoled, cajoled, and sold him on the idea of ​​serving as trustee.

Finally, my friend said, “Yes,” he was made a member of the board, and of course I felt good. I thought I had done my duty as nonprofit CEO, helping to build our board with young talent.

But a couple of years later things were not going as expected. My young trustee friend was regularly missing meetings, he didn’t participate much when he did attend, and otherwise he only seemed peripherally involved. So, with some frustration, I remember speaking privately with the older relative of our young board member, a leader on our board and a man with whom I enjoyed a close relationship. I said, “You know, we have Ben, but we don’t have the heart of him. I think I convinced him to serve on the board before he was ready.” To which my wise mentor said, “I think you do too. What did you learn from that?” Well, I learned a lot.

First, I learned that you don’t want everyone you think you want on your board to be on your board. We identify people with an attractive ability or network to give away and think, “We need that person on our board.” And they may be willing to serve, but the people who are willing are not always capable. Or we identify people with leadership skills and think, “That person would take our board to the next level.” Perhaps this is true, but the people who can are not always willing. In any case, the last thing you want to do as the CEO of a nonprofit is pressure these folks into joining the service.

Second, I learned that my gift of speech, this innate and developed facility with the spoken word, can sometimes get me into trouble. I learned that I can actually motivate (manipulate?) someone to join a board of directors. Not all nonprofit CEOs are “talkers.” Fortunately, we are not all the same. But then again, to survive and thrive in leadership, you need to be able to speak the King’s English and most CEOs are pretty good at getting their thoughts across. We don’t realize or forget that our words are powerful, that they can compel people rather than just engage them.

I don’t think what I told my young entrepreneur friend was “wrong.” But in hindsight, I think I “worn it out”. I think he agreed to serve on our board more to get me off my back, or to please me, or out of guilt, than out of a sense of passion for the mission. As far as this assessment is accurate, the university board appointed a new administrator who deep down really didn’t want to be there. As president, I put a notch in the butt of my gun, so to speak, but no one ultimately benefited from this appointment, not the university, not the trustee, not even me.

The end of this young trustee’s story was inevitable. About four years into his service, he quietly resigned and, worse, walked away from further commitment or financial support for the university.

So I learned that I didn’t want everyone on our meeting. First I thought you wanted in our meeting. I learned that I needed to present my organization and board opportunity with enthusiasm, always tempering it with respect for the person I was speaking with. I needed to consider their best interests, the timing, the decision-making process, maybe the prayers and the “adjustment,” not just my goal of getting the “Yes” and achieving another victory.

The same, by the way, can be said for fundraising. Too many nonprofit CEOs “go for the gold,” thinking frankly about the amount of the request, the goal of the campaign, and how good they’ll feel about receiving the gift. What we need to think about, what’s best for the organization and the cause and the donor in the long run is what are the donor’s priorities, what are the donor’s interests and feelings, and what’s best for the donor. If we truly match the vision of the organization with the priorities of donors, in the long run we will attract bigger gifts and, even better, loyalty with longevity.

In the last year, the story of our young Trustee and my learning curve came back to me. I am now serving another nonprofit as CEO, and with that role comes the usual need and opportunity to build the board. I met this semi-retired businessman, liked and respected him, admired his accomplishments and talents, and appreciated the fact that he made a substantial gift to the organization. Everything about him told me, “It’s board material.” So I approached him with the idea.

My friend expressed openness and said he would think and pray about it and discuss it with his wife. He also attended two board meetings four months apart, meeting board members and learning more about our organization. But still, he held back.

At this point, my outgoing personality and goals said, “Push.” Fortunately, it was then that I remembered young Ben and his wise relative, my mentor, from years ago. What did I learn then? Does it apply now? He did it.

I presented my friend with the board membership case, then backed off. Over the next several months I interacted with him, including a visit to his home, but only once did I mention the board opportunity.

This gentleman is still my friend, still very interested in our organization, still open to considering more financial support, and not yet a board member. In fact, I recently received an email from him saying that he had looked at it carefully and finally concluded that his other commitments did not allow him to give us what we needed at this time.

So should I be sad? Maybe a little, because I still believe my friend’s service would strengthen our board, but not if he’s not ready. So should I be sad? Not really, because we’ve gained a new, probably long-term, supporter who might one day be on the board. As it is, he is about as committed as one can be without accepting a formal appointment. Consequently, the organization, our friend and even I are not better but “better”.

CEOs of nonprofits are typically entrepreneurs, and they should be. We just have to remember to cut it down sometimes in the best interest of our vision, goals, and constituents. Fans who want and are ready to serve are the best. So be careful not to talk people into things they really aren’t ready to do.