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A winding country road disappearing into golden sunrise light over quiet fields — the long path a supporter travels toward a legacy gift, years before any solicitor is involved
Legacy Fundraising

Why Legacy Giving Starts Long Before the Will

13 min read·Updated July 2026

By Sergei Ponomarev

Quick answer

For most supporters, the emotional decision to leave a charity something in their will arrives years — often five to fifteen years — before the legal document is drafted. During those years, the supporter is not ready to see a solicitor, but they are quietly ready to say the intention out loud in some other way. Charities that build a bridge for that earlier expression of intent unlock a category of relationship that pure will-focused programs never reach. That bridge, more than any single ask, is what separates legacy programs that thrive from legacy programs that plateau.

  • The legal act of adding a charity to a will is the very last step in a decision most supporters have been quietly making for years — sometimes a decade or more — before the solicitor is ever involved
  • Charities that only listen for the 'I have just added you' moment miss the years of emotional readiness that came before, which is when the relationship, the story, and the actual choice were built
  • There is a specific bridge missing in most legacy programs — a way for supporters to express intent early, publicly if they choose, before they are ready for the legal step — and it is where the biggest untapped growth in the sector now sits

If you run legacy fundraising at any charity and you look at the moment a supporter finally calls to tell you they have added your organisation to their will, one honest question is worth sitting with.

When did that decision actually get made?

If you ask the supporter, and you ask them carefully, the answer is almost never "last week when I saw my solicitor." The answer, told in a hundred different words across a hundred different interviews, is some version of "I think I've known for years."

The years before the will get written are the years the entire legacy sector has quietly been leaving on the table. This piece is about what actually happens in those years, why they matter more than the paperwork moment, and what a charity can do to become part of that stretch of the supporter's journey rather than only meeting them at the end of it.

The Timeline Nobody Draws

If you sketched the average path a supporter takes from "first started giving to this charity" to "included this charity in the will," it would look something like this.

Years 1 to 5: Regular giving. The supporter makes small annual or monthly donations. They open the newsletters. They come to a fundraising event or two. They are, from the charity's data perspective, an ordinary mid-level supporter.

Years 5 to 10: Deepening connection. Something specific begins to shift. Maybe a personal experience — an illness in the family, a milestone, a moment when the charity's work touched them directly. Maybe just the accumulating weight of a long relationship. They start to think, occasionally and privately, "I want this to keep going after I am not around to support it."

Years 10 to 15: The quiet decision. The supporter has decided, in themselves, that they want to include the charity in their will. They have not told anyone. They have not seen a solicitor. But if you sat across from them at a coffee shop and asked them the direct question, they would tell you honestly that this is what they intend to do.

Year 15 or 20: The legal act. The supporter finally updates their will — usually alongside another life event (a new grandchild, a house move, a spouse's passing, a health scare). The clause gets added. The charity gets notified, or it doesn't. Either way, by this point the actual decision was made a decade ago.

The precise years vary. The shape of the curve does not. And the punchline is uncomfortable for the sector: most legacy programs are structured to identify and engage supporters only in the very last phase — the paperwork phase — which is by far the least influenceable one.

What Emotional Readiness Actually Looks Like

If the emotional decision arrives ten or fifteen years before the legal one, what does that emotional readiness actually look like from the charity's side? What signals is a supporter sending that the sector is missing?

Five signals appear consistently in donor research and in the interviews long-serving legacy fundraisers describe:

1. Sustained regular giving over many years. Not a large gift. A small, steady one, kept up across a decade. This is the single strongest predictor that a supporter is somewhere on the legacy readiness curve, and it does not require any legacy-specific communication to detect. Any charity with basic supporter data can identify their long-loyal givers today.

2. Personal storytelling that comes unprompted. In event conversations, in reply letters, in emails, some supporters begin — without being asked — to explain why they support the charity. A memory of a parent. A personal experience with the illness. A gratitude for a service that helped them. This kind of unprompted narrative is a signal of the identity-level engagement that precedes legacy readiness.

3. Interest in the charity's long-term future. The supporter starts asking, or reading, or listening about work the charity is doing over a five- or ten-year horizon. Research programs. Endowment plans. Multi-decade commitments. This is the tell that the supporter has moved from thinking about this year's donation to thinking about what happens after my time here is done.

4. Introducing the charity into family conversation. A supporter who talks to their spouse or their children about the work of the charity — its mission, its people, its impact — is doing something almost nobody does about causes they only mildly care about. This is what happens when a supporter is beginning, however quietly, to fold the charity into the story they want their family to keep after them.

5. A direct if oblique question about the will. "Do many people include you in their will?" "I was wondering how one would go about doing that." "I saw the mention in the newsletter." When one of these questions surfaces, the readiness is often already mature — the supporter is testing the waters before naming what they have already decided.

Most charities have supporters throwing off some combination of these signals every week. Most charities are not set up to recognise, respond to, or engage them.

The mechanics of what a well-run legacy program does with these signals, once it starts noticing them, sits inside the practical inside-view of how charities build legacy giving programs.

What the Charity Misses During the Silent Years

Between the moment a supporter has quietly decided and the moment they finally see the solicitor, several things happen that shape whether the gift actually arrives.

They can change their mind. The decision that felt clear at 62 can feel less clear at 68 if the relationship with the charity has cooled, if a new cause has entered their life, or if a family situation has shifted. Charities that assume "we don't need to steward them, they already decided" routinely lose the gift silently.

They can direct it differently. A supporter who has emotionally committed to "leaving something to a hospice" but not to your specific hospice will, when the solicitor asks the direct question, name whichever hospice has stayed most vivid in their mind. Charities that go quiet lose to charities that stay warm.

They can shrink it. A supporter who intended a residuary bequest at 20% but has been drifting in the emotional connection may end up naming a small pecuniary bequest instead — a fraction of the gift that would have been possible if the relationship had been maintained. The number appears on the eventual estate report. The lost potential does not.

They can decide "later" indefinitely. The most common failure mode is not that a supporter chose a different charity. It is that they never quite got round to seeing the solicitor at all. The intention was real. The action never happened. This is the outcome the sector loses more legacy income to than any other single factor.

The connective tissue that prevents each of these outcomes is the same: staying meaningfully in relationship during the emotional decade, not just showing up for the paperwork moment.

The Data Behind the Gap

Every serious donor benchmark study on this topic — Legacy Futures in the UK, Russell James's research at Texas Tech, the Cerulli Associates work on planned giving in the US — points to the same rough finding.

Roughly a third of adults with a will have considered including a charity in it. Roughly six or seven percent actually do. The gap between "considered" and "did" is enormous, and closing it is where almost all of the sector's growth over the coming decade will come from.

That gap is not primarily about persuasion. It is about timing. The people in it are not skeptics of legacy giving. They are people who have already decided but have not yet acted. Charities that meet them in the interim — when the intention is real but the paperwork is not — capture a category of relationship that will-focused programs never reach.

The broader shape of who these supporters are — the six real motivations that drive legacy gifts and the psychology of giving as a form of identity — is covered in adjacent pieces. What matters here is that all six motivations are firing during the silent decade, not just at the solicitor's desk.

The Bridge That Is Missing in Most Programs

Sitting between "the supporter has decided" and "the supporter has updated the will" is a gap most legacy programs never fill: a way for the supporter to say the intention out loud, on their own terms, before they are ready for the legal step.

Some supporters want that expression to be public — a badge on a website, a name in a Legacy Society newsletter, a story shared with the community. Others want it to be private — a letter to their spouse, a values statement stored somewhere safe, a note to their children. Almost all of them want it to be possible before the will is drafted, and most current programs give them no way to express it until then.

This gap is unusual because it is not costly to close. It does not require restructuring the charity's operations. It does not compete with the existing legacy program. What it does — and this is the part experienced fundraisers recognise immediately — is create a first step that many supporters can take five, ten, or fifteen years before the second step becomes possible for them.

That earlier step, however small, produces three effects the sector has been quietly starving for.

It captures intent when it forms, not when it acts. The supporter who says "I want to include you when the time comes" at 62 is a supporter the charity now knows exists, can steward, and can build a relationship with. Without that step, they were invisible.

It reduces the "someday" attrition rate. A supporter who has publicly or semi-publicly committed to something is more likely to follow through on it. This is not manipulation — it is the well-documented psychology of consistency between stated intention and eventual action.

It creates a warmth in the community. Other supporters who see stated intentions from people they respect are gently reminded that this is something ordinary people, not just distant wealthy donors, do. The cultural effect on the wider supporter base is meaningful.

The broader family-side conversation about how these intentions form sits inside the same ecosystem — the supporter's family often becomes involved in the decision long before the solicitor does.

What This Means for Your Legacy Program

If you run legacy fundraising and you take the timeline seriously — that the decision is being made a decade before it is being documented — the operational implications are concrete.

Rethink who you consider a "legacy prospect." The strongest predictor is not wealth. It is loyalty. Your 12-year, £30-a-year, quiet, faithful supporter is far more likely to be somewhere on the readiness curve than any lapsed major donor. Prioritise your stewardship attention accordingly.

Make it possible to express intent before the will step. Not as a substitute for the will. As a bridge to it. A gentle way for supporters who have decided but not yet acted to say so, on their own terms, and receive genuine acknowledgment for it.

Build stewardship for the emotional decade. Regular, low-pressure communication that treats the supporter as someone with long-horizon interest in the charity's work — invitations to programme visits, updates on research trajectories, personal notes at meaningful moments. Not "please include us in your will." Just "we are here, we are grateful, and we are doing the work that matters to you."

Adjust the internal case for the program. Legacy programs pitched to boards purely as "gifts in wills we've received this year" underperform legacy programs pitched as "the number of supporters we know are emotionally committed to us." The first is a lagging indicator by fifteen years. The second is the actual pipeline.

Talk about the intention publicly, when supporters want you to. Some supporters want to share their pledge. Others don't. Making both options available captures both groups. Making only the "quiet, sit down with a solicitor" path available misses the many supporters who would happily go public if the option existed.

The broader mechanism of how those wills get written when the moment finally comes is walked through in the how-to piece on charitable bequests. The mechanics themselves are not complicated. It is the years before them that most programs are structured to miss.

Where Mylo Fits Into This

The reason Mylo exists in this space at all is that we noticed the same gap most fundraisers have been feeling for years without quite naming.

Supporters who care about a cause reach a point of emotional readiness long before they are ready for a solicitor. What they need in that stretch is not a will-writing tool. It is a way to express intent — to their family, to the charity, to themselves — without needing to have completed the legal step yet.

That is what Mylo builds. Legacy pledges people can make publicly if they want to. Values letters people can write while the causes they care about are fresh in their minds. Documentation of the reasoning behind the intention, so that when the will is eventually drafted the family already knows the story. And, for charities that partner with us, a way to identify supporters who have crossed the emotional threshold years before they might otherwise appear on your radar.

This is not a will-making platform. It is deliberately the step before that one — the step that has been missing from the sector's toolkit, and the one we think closes most of the gap between the third of supporters who consider legacy giving and the fraction who currently follow through.

The most valuable moment in a supporter's legacy journey is not the day the will is signed. It is the day, ten years earlier, when they quietly decide the intention. Charities that meet supporters at that moment build relationships the will-focused sector cannot reach. It is the space Mylo was built for, and where we think the next decade of legacy giving growth actually lives.

If you run legacy fundraising at a charity and any of this has resonated, the practical starting point is not a new campaign. It is a smaller and more honest one: audit your current supporter base for the loyalty signals described above, and ask yourself how many of them you have ever offered a gentle way to express intent before the legal step.

Almost every charity answers "none."

That answer is not a criticism. It is the honest starting point for the next chapter of what legacy fundraising can look like when it stops waiting for the solicitor and starts meeting supporters where they actually are.

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