SEATTLE -- Steve Albertson has dedicated his nest egg, and time, to the environment. Tina Podlodowski put her considerable resources into gay issues and the city council. Trish Millines spent more than $100,000 of her own money to teach technology to minority children.
All three consider themselves retirees. All three are philanthropists. And all three were under 40 when they left Microsoft, graduates of an employee shareholder plan that has made them winners of the biggest lottery in the digital age.
The financial success of the software giant, whose stock has increased nearly 5,000 percent in a decade, has heralded a new era in philanthropy in Washington state, fueled by geographically concentrated group of young donors with few precedents in U.S. history.
"The only thing that may compare are the young people making big bonuses in Wall Street, and even that is spread out, money from different companies," says Daniel Borochoff, president of the American Institute of Philanthropy in Bethesda, Md. "I can't think of any situation like the new philanthropy in Seattle."
By granting thousands of shares to each of his employees, Bill Gates has created a new class of millionaires: programmers, analysts and marketers still in their 30s who love computers, grew up middle class and never imagined having so much money so young. Together, these estimated 4,000 "Microsoft millionaires" give the Seattle area more millionaires per capita than any other U.S. city.
While about 30 percent of these use their Microsoft money to launch high-tech companies, most of the rest have decided to give up their high-intensity, 100-hour-a-week jobs and "retire," starting families and devoting themselves to philanthropy.
"My 10 years at Microsoft is like 40 years at any other company," says Richard Tait, who retired in May 1997 at 34 and now has his own foundation. "The money you make gives you a unique opportunity, at an age where you have plenty of energy to make a difference on issues that interest you."
Indeed, there is nothing retiring about these donors, who have attacked the nonprofit world with the ferocity they once saved for a new version of Windows.
Hundreds have started their own foundations. Most insist on a management role in the charities they support. Nearly all of them bring a hard-headed, bottom-line attitude that has rankled some nonprofit officials who have never before been ordered to produce detailed business plans and update their software.
A substantial number of the ex-Microsofties have focused their charities on making computers and software accessible to children and the disadvantaged. But the reach of the Microsoft millionaires can be seen throughout the Seattle area: baby blankets in Bellevue, a restored Beaux Arts theater downtown and children's books about gay-headed households that have begun appearing in local libraries.
More than tax shelters
"The real culture of Microsoft expresses itself after people leave," says Scott Oki, 49, who was the company's senior vice president for sales and services. "When you're working there, you have no time for your family, much less to do philanthropy. Now, I do nonprofit work from a venture capitalist's perspective."
Oki, once considered a candidate for Microsoft top management, is often cited as the model Microsoft millionaire by other retirees. A Seattle native born into a working-class, Japanese-American family, he quit Microsoft in 1991 to play golf and spend time with his family. His foundation was, at first, "just a tax shelter."
But soon he grew bored. Oki joined the University of Washington Board of Regents, unnerving administrators there with detailed financial questions. He helped found Social Venture Partners, a group for philanthropists who donate at least $5,000 each and pool their money to make "investments" in education and children's programs.
In the suburb of Bellevue, Oki and his wife started businesses, with profits going to their foundation, which funds human services nonprofits. Among these firms are a baby blanket maker, the Seattle Sounders professional soccer team, a golf course and a Japanese restaurant -- "Whatever strikes my fancy," he says.
"Having a plan for giving is a necessity. Microsoft people are such targets [for charities seeking donations] that if you're just sitting there, holding onto your cash, you become a sitting duck."
Commitment to nonprofits
Oki's philosophy, while often repeated in elite circles here, has only recently become conventional wisdom. Many current Microsoft workers, and retirees who continue to toil in the high-tech world, have long been reluctant to give too much money while they are young. Gates, 42, has been heavily criticized for saying he will run his company for another 10 years before turning to charity.
But in recent years, Gates has begun to boost his company's commitment to nonprofits -- Microsoft donated $14 million in cash and $45 million in software last year alone -- while pushing his workers to give. The company matches any employee's contribution up to $12,000.
One Microsoft technology analyst, Aaron Controrer, has even designed a computer program that, depending on how his stock options rise in value, tells him and other employees exactly when to give their money away.
But retirees remain the backbone of the local philanthropic community. Ida Cole, former head of international products and marketing, quit at age 34 and saved the Paramount Theater, which was to be torn down for a convention center expansion. Cole reportedly donated at least $2 million herself and raised $20 million for the 1995 renovation of the 70-year-old theater, a 3,000-seat marvel often compared to Kubla Khan's pleasure dome.
When not seeking Microsoft money, several nonprofits have tapped retirees for their management skills. Within a week of quitting Microsoft in 1995, Steve Albertson, now 34, began a job as director of ONE/Northwest, a nonprofit that services the technology needs of Pacific Northwest environmental advocates. Even Seattle voters have looked to Microsoft, by electing Tina Podlodowski, former director of Microsoft University, the company's worldwide training business, to the city council.
Podlodowski, the council's first openly gay member, used some of her Microsoft money to create a fund to support gay and lesbian families with children. On the council, she is best known as a hard-nosed stickler for financial details.
"It's funny sometimes," she says in her municipal office, which includes Microsoft mementos and a guitar signed by Melissa Etheridge. "People don't know whether I'm supposed to be the crazy lesbian or the rich, humorless financial woman from Microsoft."
Boon to community
However they are perceived, former employees of Microsoft, headquartered in the eastern suburb of Redmond, have been a boon to Seattle. Most retirees, including the Connecticut-born Podlodow-ski, grew up elsewhere but settled here.
Trish Millines, who was raised by her mother in New Jersey, quit Microsoft after an eight-year career to start the Technology Access Foundation in 1996. Her goal is to open a technology school. But for now, she has Technical Teens, a four-year internship program that allows 40 teens to take after-school computer classes, work summers in software companies and receive up to $4,000 in college scholarships.
"Companies like Microsoft have made computers, and knowing how to use them is vital to education and financial success," says Millines, who is African-American. "But children of color don't have the same access. My idea is to bridge that gap my old company helped create."
That said, her foundation would have been impossible without Microsoft's generosity. Millines financed the start-up costs with $150,000 of the money she made during eight years there. The company donated more than $300,000 in software to TAF. Her 12-member board of directors includes five current and five former Microsoft employees.
Millines, who works only 40 hours a week at TAF, admits to missing the Microsoft life.
"I'd love to stay retired and help people forever," says Millines, 41. "But you never know. Microsoft stock could lose its value, and all of us might have to go out and work again."
Pub Date: 8/06/98