So, what exactly is “evidence-based”?
I’ve been thinking a lot about this, how often people invoke it, how rarely they interrogate it, and how much weight it carries in nonprofit work.
At first glance, the idea seems straightforward: Programs and services should rely on evidence. In practice, I’ve seen people define, apply, and enforce standards in ways that shape what gets funded and whose evidence counts.
Over time, my own thinking has shifted. I understand the importance of evidence in framing effective programs and services and improving outcomes. At the same time, I’ve grown more attentive to how evidence, when use prescriptively, can flatten complexity, limit innovation, and miss the realities of the communities nonprofits are trying to serve.
When standards become one-size-fits-all
This question came into sharp focus during an interview I conducted with a maternal health medical provider for a project funded by a philanthropic organization. The funder wanted to develop a theory of change that would help program officers support maternal health organizations more intentionally. During our conversation, the provider raised a concern I’ve heard echoed elsewhere: Why do national standards for improving maternal health and birthing outcomes so often operate as one-size-fits-all solutions? She wasn’t arguing against standards or evidence. Instead, she questioned why evidence couldn’t function more as guidance—something organizations use to frame their work—rather than as a rigid benchmark that assumes all communities need the same interventions delivered in the same way.
Who decides what counts as evidence?
I’ve heard similar questions outside of maternal health as well. While serving on the board of a mental health organization, I remember a meeting where the executive director paused the conversation and asked a deceptively simple question: What counts as evidence, and who gets to decide? The room went quiet—not because people disagreed, but because the question exposed an uncomfortable reality. We often frame evidence as neutral and objective, even though it reflects power, access, and whose experiences researchers choose to study and validate.
When chasing evidence becomes a funding strategy
I’ve also worked with nonprofits that have tried to align their programs, services, and even logic models with what funders describe as evidence-based practices. In many cases, nonprofits pursue this work less because of program design needs and more out of survival: The hope that speaking the language of evidence will unlock funding. Yet I’ve watched funders dismiss evidence organizations gather through community feedback, lived experience, or local data because it doesn’t meet a prescribed standard.
Intentional or not, this response suggests that some forms of knowledge matter more than others, even when nonprofits work closely with the communities they serve.
Evidence as a tool, not a script
None of this has led me to reject the value of evidence. Instead, this experience has pushed me to think more critically about how people use evidence. When evidence becomes overly prescriptive, it can narrow the range of acceptable solutions and discourage responsiveness to local context. Treating evidence as static often causes it to lag behind changing community needs. Using evidence as a tool—rather than a script—can strengthen how nonprofits design, implement, and adapt their work. The challenge isn’t evidence itself; it’s the assumption that rigor and responsiveness are mutually exclusive.
Key takeaway
Questioning evidence has helped me hold this tension more honestly. It creates space to value research and standards while also recognizing the limits of one-size-fits-all approaches. It invites nonprofits, funders, and practitioners to consider whose knowledge they elevate, whose realities shape benchmarks, and how evidence can support rather than constrain community-centered work. For me, this question isn’t about dismantling evidence-based practice, but about expanding it.
Raise Your Voice: When has being “evidence-based” supported your work, and when has it felt limiting? Share in the comments section below.
Was this useful? Subscribe to the Raise Your Voice newsletter, and explore my consulting services.
