Philanthropy often begins with a simple impulse: a cause moves you, and you say yes. But according to Piya Saliba, CEO of Fountain Capital, that impulse is rarely enough. Saliba, who splits her time between business and philanthropy through the Nalin and Naseeb Foundation and the Cedars-Sinai NICU Parent Council, has observed a common pattern in how people decide to take on new commitments. Most say yes based on how a cause makes them feel in the moment. Saliba argues that is a mistake. A cause can be worthy and still be the wrong fit for a given person at a given time.
"People ask if a cause matters," she says. "That is rarely the real question. Almost every cause matters. The real question is whether you are the right person to help it, right now."
To answer that question, Saliba suggests four filters. The first is: what do I actually bring? She says the starting point is not whether you care about an issue, but what you would concretely contribute—time, money, a skill, a network, a story. Each is different, and each asks something different of you. "I have sat in rooms where everyone cared and nobody could say what they were there to do," she says. "Caring gets you in the door. It does not tell you what to do once you are inside." Her own path, split between Indonesia and Singapore and exposed to both a family furniture business and the arts, taught her that naming your own value clearly is more useful than general enthusiasm.
The second question is: what will this cost, and where? Saliba notes that every commitment has a cost, but the cost that trips people up is rarely money—it is attention. "You can budget money," she says. "You cannot budget attention the same way. It leaks out of whatever you are not looking at." She suggests asking which part of life will quietly shrink to make room for a new commitment: sleep, a hobby, time with family, a slower version of work. Naming the cost in advance does not remove it, but it stops it from arriving as a surprise six months in.
The third question is: does this fit what I already know? Saliba's own commitments track closely to what she already understands. Her work with the Cedars-Sinai NICU Parent Council draws on her own experience with families in vulnerable moments. Her involvement with the Nalin and Naseeb Foundation reflects causes close to her. "I did not pick these because they were the biggest need out there," she says. "I picked them because I had something specific to offer, based on what I had already lived through or already knew." This question, she says, filters out many well-meaning but poorly matched commitments. A person can be moved by a cause and still lack the specific footing to help it well.
The fourth and final question is: can I keep showing up? Not "can I say yes today," but "can I still say yes to this in a year." Nonprofits rely on people who stay. A one-time burst of energy helps less than steady, smaller involvement over time. Saliba says she would rather commit to less and sustain it than take on more and quietly fade out. "Consistency is its own form of respect," she says. "It tells the people and the cause that you meant it." She still makes room for the arts in her own life—singing, acting, and dance—alongside her work and volunteer commitments, seeing that balance as a daily version of the same question: what can I actually sustain, and where does it belong.
For anyone considering a new philanthropic commitment, Saliba's framework offers a practical alternative to impulse-driven decisions. By asking what you bring, what it costs, whether it fits your experience, and whether you can sustain it, you increase the odds that your yes will be both meaningful and lasting—for you and for the cause.
