Big Tech Calls It Context. Nonprofits Call It Holding.
I read keynotes the way I read call notes. Not for the announcements, but for the sentence underneath them.
This September, Salesforce, HubSpot and Glean each put the same idea at the center of what they were building, and the word was context. Then Blackbaud held its own conference and arrived at the same idea from another direction, announcing an operating system for social impact: the data, the intelligence that reads it, and the assistants and agents that act from it, with human oversight.
Four companies. Two words for one idea.
Underneath both is the same premise: what an organization knows should not sit in separate pieces while a person does the work of putting the picture back together.
The sentence underneath
What I hear under all of it is a line from a strategic growth leader at a girls school, on a call last winter: "I don't think people know how much I'm holding."
She was not talking about software. She was talking about being the place where her organization's memory lived. Which funder had asked for what and when. Which donor wanted a call instead of an email. What the board had decided in March and why. What had been promised, what had happened, and what still needed to happen next.
The question underneath her sentence is the question underneath all of those keynotes. Where does your organization live? Not the building. Not the 990. What you promised, what happened, why you decided what you decided, how the grant connects to the program it funded and how that program becomes the story you tell about the work. Where does all of that live?
For decades, the software nonprofits bought was built around a transaction. The gift. The donor. The grant. The file. None of it was built around the organization. Each system could hold its piece. What those systems did not have to hold was the whole organization, so that job often belonged to a person.
The biggest names in software have now arrived at that problem, and they are calling it context. We did not get there by reading their keynotes. We got there by listening to the people who were already living it.
We heard it from them
In March I wrote about a pattern I could no longer ignore. An executive director would walk me through her week, from grant deadlines to board preparation to donor follow-ups, and then mention almost casually that a lot of it landed on her shoulders. The more people I talked to, the less it looked like an exception and the more it looked like the model.
"It lands firmly on my shoulders," said the director of a community center. "The keeper of all the details," said the head of a professional chapter. "My finance director knows everything and she's looking to retire," said someone from a family resource center.
Nobody called it context. They called it holding.
They described being the place where everything comes together, and what happens when the person doing the holding leaves, gets overloaded, or cannot keep rebuilding the whole picture every time another piece of work comes due.
So when the biggest names in software arrive at the same idea in the same month, it does not read as news. It reads as the industry arriving, from the top of the market, at a problem the people at the other end of it have been describing out loud for a year and a half.
The difference is who the idea is being built around. The versions taking shape at the top of the market assume more budget, more staff and more infrastructure than many nonprofits have. The organizations we have been talking to are a few people. Sometimes one paid employee. A board that meets monthly. A grant calendar in a spreadsheet. A strategic plan somebody remembers better than somebody else does.
They do not need an enterprise system shrunk down to fit them. They need the same idea built around the way they actually work.
The bigger change is not writing
Everyone wants to talk to nonprofits about AI this year, and most of that conversation is about writing. AI can write your grant. It can draft an appeal. That is useful, and it is the smaller change.
Writing is getting cheap. The scarce thing is knowing: what you promised, what happened, what you decided and why, and how all of it connects.
For a long time, the most reliable place that whole picture could live was in people.
The bigger change is that software can now read across the work. The strategic plan, the grants, the board minutes, the annual report, the program notes. It can begin to assemble the picture that until now often lived in the head of the person who knew how everything fit together.
The point is not simply that software can know more about the task in front of it. The organization itself no longer has to be reconstructed every time someone starts the next piece of work. The next grant does not have to begin with someone remembering the last one. The next board update does not have to begin with someone reconstructing the last decision. A new person does not have to begin by finding the person who knows where everything is.
Software can begin with what the organization already knows.
Once that happens, the interesting possibility is not that a document gets written faster. It is that the work can build on the work.
Three weeks later
This summer, the executive director of a library friends group gave BeMo what it needed to know about her organization and used it to create her annual report. It learned from the work she was already doing. The report normally took about three days. This time, about an hour.
That was useful, but three weeks later is where it got interesting.
She came back to write her appeal letter, and she did not start over. What BeMo knew about her organization was still there, including the annual report. The appeal normally took a few hours. This time, about thirty minutes. She decided what went out. And she told us: "I think it also came out better. More clear and concise."
The annual report was not the end of the work. It became part of what came next.
The grant becomes part of the program. The program becomes part of the report. The report becomes part of the story. The story becomes part of the renewal.
Nothing starts over.
Not because everything was poured into one giant system, but because the organization keeps building on what it already knows and has already done.
Built for the people still holding it
The biggest software companies are building versions of this idea for the organizations they serve. We are building it for the organizations we have been talking to.
The director who is the keeper of all the details. The fundraiser reconstructing last year's grant before she can write this year's. The organization that knows a transition is coming and realizes how much of its history is about to walk out the door.
We are early, and we are still in beta. It is free, and that is the point. At this stage, the people doing the work can still shape what gets built for them.
Back to the call notes
So I take the keynotes as a sign that we heard right. And then I go back to the call notes, because the sentence underneath all of those announcements was said first by someone who was not in the room.
How much of your organization are you still holding?