Is this a gift? I didn’t ask for it. I certainly didn’t want it.

Yesterday morning, I made a donation to a charity I respect because I believe in their work. Not because of a marketing campaign. Not because they sent me a “special offer.” Just because the work matters and I want to support it.

In the afternoon I checked my mail and there it was in my mailbox: a giant padded envelope. Inside, an envelope from the very organization I just donated to (surprising timing, but clearly I’m a regular donor) and included inside - a strange assortment of “gifts”:

• A dishtowel so thin and scratchy it could double as sandpaper.

• A “reusable” shopping bag to add to the million already overflowing my kitchen drawer. (which btw, proudly stated it’s made of 30-50% recycled materials, and was self-stated as ‘beautiful’).

• Three pens I’ll give away immediately, because I don’t want to be reminded of bad fundraising tactics every time I write a note.

I get why this still happens. Direct mail premiums must still pull in some additional revenue, or organizations wouldn’t keep spending money on them. But we have to ask: at what cost?

How many supporters like me—people who give out of goodwill—see this pile of plastic and polyester and feel disappointed and annoyed? How many people decide they’d rather not give again if this is where their money is going? And how many simply unsubscribe altogether, meaning the organization loses the ability to communicate with them at all?

And it’s not just a non-profit problem.

WealthSimple once sent me a handwritten card to thank me for being a loyal customer for ten years. It was a lovely gesture—personal, genuine, and exactly the kind of small human touch that builds a lasting relationship.

But then, also included was …. a pack of playing cards. Something completely disconnected from their brand and my relationship with them. It was such a jarring mismatch that it shifted the whole tone from “We value you” to “We felt like we had to throw something in here, but it needed to be small and cheap.”

Here’s why that matters. Behavioural science shows us that:

• Irrelevant gifts create cognitive dissonance. When the “thank you” doesn’t match the relationship, our brains try to reconcile the mismatch—and often resolve it by devaluing the giver.

• Low-quality items lower perceived value. We subconsciously associate the quality of the gift with the quality of the brand or cause. If the “gift” feels cheap, we begin to perceive the brand as cheap.

• Premature rewards can interrupt the giving cycle. When you reward someone immediately for a gift, it can shift their motivation from intrinsic (“I gave because I care”) to extrinsic (“I gave because you gave me something”), which undermines long-term loyalty.

• Signaling matters. A dishtowel wrapped in plastic says something about your environmental priorities—whether you intend it to or not. Supporters read meaning into these choices.

From the organization’s perspective, these things seem harmless. They tick a box. They keep costs low. They’re a “little extra.” But from the supporter’s perspective, they can be alienating. They can signal waste, misaligned values, and—worst of all—a lack of respect for the relationship.

I want to hear from the organizations and brands I support. I want updates, impact stories, useful resources, and yes—even the occasional fundraising ask or product offer. But I don’t want to feel like my generosity or loyalty has been “rewarded” with landfill fodder.

If you really want to thank me, show me that you know me. Send me something relevant, high-quality, and purposeful—or send nothing at all. Spend the money on the work I support. Or use it to give me something that enriches my connection to you, not something that makes me question it.

Because the best “gift” you can give a supporter is not a tea towel or a tote bag.It’s respect.

Thank supporters without sending tat - send real, personal thank yous, update on the impact of their gift, if you want to offer ‘gifts’ make them relevant and lasting - an ebook, an invite to a webinar. And finally, let them opt in. Don’t send me garbage then force me to send an annoyed email.

Please stop sending “something” just to send something.

A cheap trinket is easy. A real relationship takes work, but it’ll pay off in the long run.