America is the most charitable country in the world. Despite inflation, a sputtering economy, and taxes on everything, we still give. According to the Giving USA Foundation, total U.S. charitable giving reached $557 billion in 2023. Individuals accounted for about $374 billion, averaging roughly $2,000–$3,000 per household. That is remarkable when you consider that the average donor does not have a PR team, a stylist, or a private jet. They simply give because it is the right thing to do.
And then there are celebrities.
Pop star Billie Eilish recently went viral for lecturing the ultra-rich during the Wall Street Journal magazine’s 2024 Innovator Awards, hosted by Stephen Colbert at the Museum of Modern Art. Looking directly at a room of billionaires that included Mark Zuckerberg, she smirked and declared, “If you’re a billionaire, why are you a billionaire? No hate, but yeah, give your money away, shorties.” Almost as if on cue, headlines immediately flooded in announcing that she was donating $11.5 million from her tour revenue to charity. How convenient. The media swooned, Colbert smiled, and Eilish’s PR team celebrated for pulling off a flawless “benevolent pop saint” moment.
But once you scratch the surface, the halo starts to slip.
The “Changemaker” ticket scheme
The $11.5 million donation is not exactly coming out of Billie’s own wallet. Fans are encouraged to buy special Changemaker tickets. These are more expensive tickets, with a portion of the extra cost directed toward charity. The average ticket for a Billie Eilish concert runs around $200–$250, while the “Changemaker” version can cost an additional $80–$120.
So yes, she is “donating,” but the donation money is largely coming from her fans, not her own profits. It is like when grocery stores ask you to “round up for charity” at the register while they take the credit and get the tax write-off. Fans pay extra, and the celebrity gets a glowing headline.
REVERB: the middleman nonprofit
The donations from Eilish’s tour are being processed through a nonprofit named REVERB. Their stated mission is to make the music industry more “environmentally sustainable” by helping music artists and venues reduce their “tour footprint.” The group partners with musicians to promote YouTube videos featuring plant-based recipes made with Impossible meat, or as I like to call it, “frankenmeat.” REVERB also has programs that include backstage recycling, refillable water stations, and “eco merch” tables at concerts. In other words, REVERB focuses on greening the touring experience rather than direct charitable aid.
According to REVERB tax filings, it brought in $5.4 million in 2023, spent $4.4 million, and has about $5.8 million in assets. REVERB reported spending roughly $1 million on “eco items” in 2023, which could include reusable water bottles, tote bags, and branded “sustainability” merchandise. I wonder which country those are made in?
So if REVERB’s annual budget is half of what Billie claims to be donating, where is that $11.5 million actually going, and when?
Keeping it in the family
Billie’s mother, Maggie Baird, runs a nonprofit named Support + Feed, which promotes “climate-conscious plant-based food systems.” Its 2023 filing reported $4.3 million in revenue and $2.5 million in expenses, with Eilish’s brother Finneas listed as a trustee. If any of Billie’s $11.5 million flows to or through her mom’s organization with a conveniently similar mission as her “change maker” ticket, then that raises conflict-of-interest questions. Even if everything is technically above board, this would look less like selfless giving and more like keeping it in the family.
Eilish’s donation is also being touted as fighting “food insecurity.” In light of the government shutdown and delays in SNAP benefits, her fan base is no doubt singing her praises. Who could argue with that? Feeding people is a cause most everyone supports.
But a closer look at the fine print shows that much of the money is actually being funneled toward “climate justice,” a vague term that can mean anything from carbon offsets and “sustainability education” to paying consultants to hold eco-anxiety workshops in San Francisco.
The “climate justice” umbrella has become a favorite hiding spot for waste, bloat, and political pet projects. It is a goldmine for nonprofits because it cannot really be measured. Who is going to audit “equitable carbon transition outcomes”? No one. The money disappears into consulting fees, “educational materials,” and endless travel to “raise awareness.”
Don’t get me wrong, giving is good. Nonprofits can be powerful forces for good when they are transparent, mission-driven, and accountable. But when celebrity charity becomes just another marketing strategy wrapped in moral superiority and hypocrisy, it cheapens real generosity. It teaches young people that “helping” means paying extra for a concert ticket and letting a PR team take it from there. The average American, giving quietly and consistently, is doing far more good than a custom Gucci fit pop star with a press release and a “Changemaker” ticket.
