Ensuring intergenerational equity, paying for leadership, and growing as knowledge grows: these three factors explain why Princeton, despite the wonderful benefits it enjoys as a result of its endowment, must depend on new generosity to fulfill its evolving mission. But there is another question that lingers with many thoughtful people after they fully appreciate these elements of Princeton’s budgetary environment. “I can see why Princeton is working to raise more money,” they say. “Still, why should I give to Princeton when it is so well off and when there are so many needy people, and so many deserving causes, in the world?”

That question, too, is a good one. Princeton is very fortunate: though we cannot do everything we aspire to do, our endowment gives us the capacity to do many things that other universities can only dream about. I hope by now that I’ve convinced you that the University’s needs are real. Still, Princeton obviously is not “needy” in the sense of being poorly off. The question of how to decide where to make philanthropic investments is a personal one. While I support many different charities, as I believe everyone should, my longest-standing and most satisfactory relationship as a donor has been with Princeton, and I want to say a little bit about the reasons that inform my own choice.

Perhaps the most obvious reason to support the work of Princeton and other great universities is that they contribute in two fundamental ways to the task of solving the world’s most pressing problems. One is by generating new ideas and research that can change the future. In the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences, for example, a team of engineers is working on sophisticated laser technologies that, if successful, could produce new ways to diagnose diseases and detect biological pathogens. In the Woodrow Wilson School and the Departments of Politics and Sociology, professors and public officials are designing policies and institutions that could facilitate international collaboration to address the major security challenges of the twenty-first century. In the Princeton Environmental Institute, scientists and social scientists are collaborating with industry representatives to create workable strategies for reducing carbon emissions. In the Department of English, Princeton faculty members are collaborating with colleagues around the country to design a new humanities-based approach to civic education.

The second way that great universities help to address profound problems is by educating new generations of leaders. Young people benefit, of course, by learning theories and skills that will enable them to cope with specific challenges. But they must also come to an understanding of the human condition that will fortify their character and equip them with the courage, sympathy, and thoughtfulness that they will need to thrive as citizens and leaders. At Princeton and other leading liberal arts universities, students develop these traits not only in the classroom but in extracurricular activities as diverse as athletic teams, a cappella singing groups, the Student Volunteers Council, and debating societies like Whig-Clio. These students will grow to become creators of knowledge and economic wealth for our society, civic leaders, patrons of the arts, organizers and supporters of all manner of humanitarian endeavors, and so many other things. Today’s philanthropic gifts will be enormously leveraged by the achievements of our future alumni.

Great universities are also special for another, less utilitarian reason. They are places where the human spirit soars. In these special communities of learning, students, teachers, and researchers strive to transcend their limitations and, on occasion, to expand the boundaries of human achievement. They create, they discover, and they excel. Their successes can be dazzling. This quest for excellence is worth supporting for its own sake, not just for the beneficial consequences it produces.

It reminds us of the dignity of human life and the values that should guide us in both the ordinary and the exceptional moments of our lives. Of course, some of this applies to our peer institutions, but I think that what we do at Princeton is unique. I admit that I am biased twice over, though: once as an administrator who bears financial and academic responsibilities for the University’s well-being and then again as an alumnus who is proud of my alma mater’s long track record of leadership and service.

For me as for so many others, there is a deeply personal reason to support Princeton. We recognize that, when we attended the University, we owed our opportunities to the generosity of our predecessors, and we accordingly feel a desire to give back so that our successors will flourish as we did. We also feel a continuing connection to the place. Princeton may have its heart in central New Jersey, but the University is a community whose boundaries transcend space and time. It links together men and women who attended Princeton at different times and who now live in different places. For those of us who feel these ties, giving to Princeton is a way not just to support this special institution but to continue our participation in it.