The problem most nonprofits have is that they are run by

The words of Mohnish Pabrai—“The problem most nonprofits have is that they are run by romantics who are great to hang out with, but they have no clue.”—strike like a thunderclap upon the hearts of those who labor in the world of service. He does not speak to diminish the spirit of romantics, for he admits they are pleasant, inspiring, even delightful companions. Rather, he warns of a deeper danger: that noble intentions and soaring dreams are not enough to build and sustain an institution. For where there is no vision joined to competence, no strategy bound to execution, the dream withers into futility.

In this statement, Pabrai unveils a paradox. The romantic, with heart aflame, sees the suffering of the world and longs to mend it. Their passion is pure, their spirit generous. Yet when such passion is not joined to skill in management, in discipline, in practical action, it falters. Dreams, though noble, cannot balance budgets; compassion, though beautiful, cannot alone structure organizations. Thus, many nonprofits, though born of holy intention, collapse under the weight of poor leadership, their light extinguished not by enemies, but by their own inability to endure.

This truth is as old as civilization. Consider the tale of the French Revolution, which began with dreamers aflame with visions of liberty, equality, fraternity. They were romantics, noble in desire, yet lacking in the skills of governance and the discipline of order. Their passion, untempered, turned to chaos, and the dream was stained with rivers of blood. Contrast this with Florence Nightingale, whose compassion for the wounded in war was married to scientific rigor, careful record-keeping, and disciplined organization. She was both a romantic and a realist, and because of this union, her work transformed medicine and endures to this day.

The meaning of Pabrai’s words is not to banish the romantic, but to call them to partnership with the pragmatic. For without dreamers, the world would remain cold, lacking vision and hope. But without doers, the dream would remain only ink upon paper, or breath upon air. The greatest leaders are those who can dwell in both realms: who can dream vast dreams, yet also descend into the details of execution. Thus the problem is not the existence of romantics in nonprofits, but the absence of wisdom to balance their fire with structure.

The lesson for us is profound. In every endeavor of life—whether in service, in business, or in art—we must wed idealism to practicality. Let the heart dream boldly, but let the mind plan wisely. Let the soul burn with compassion, but let the hands be steady with skill. To build a better world requires not only poets and prophets, but also architects and accountants. It is in their union that true change is born.

Practically, this means cultivating balance in ourselves and in our communities. If you are a romantic, seek counsel from the pragmatic; learn discipline and structure. If you are pragmatic, learn to honor the vision of the romantic, for without vision, structure is lifeless. And if you build organizations, weave together both types of people, so that passion fuels the mission and wisdom sustains it.

Thus, the words of Mohnish Pabrai become not a condemnation, but a call to wholeness. The dreamer must not abandon the dream, but must learn the way of the builder. The builder must not mock the dream, but must honor the fire that gives meaning to the structure. Together, they can transform nonprofits—and indeed, the world—into vessels of lasting change. And so we pass this wisdom to future generations: that romance and reason, passion and practicality, must walk hand in hand if humanity is to rise.