“That Headquarters reserve of ‘book money’ has had to foot the ten deficits.”
Who pays
In 1945 AA’s trustees wrote to John D. Rockefeller Jr. and the guests of his 1940 dinner that AA no longer needed their money. (The basket, in Keep Coming Back, tells of the dinner, and of the dollar a year the office first asked of the groups in 1941.) The book’s royalties would look after Dr. Bob and Bill W., the groups would pay for the office, and, Bill wrote, “if these were insufficient, the reserve accumulated out of literature sales could meet the deficit.”
They often were. Many groups, Bill wrote, “failed to help us at all. Less than half of them contributed anything.” In the late 1940s the groups’ gifts fell short of the office’s bills by $2,000 a month, and the Grapevine was losing nearly half as much again. Even so, the trustees turned down $10,000 left to AA in a will. The difference came out of the Big Book. The book, Bill wrote, had become “the financial cornerstone of the Headquarters and the guarantor of our solvency.”
It paid its authors, too. The Foundation, which by then owned the book, gave Dr. Bob and Bill a royalty of 10 percent each. It was, the Foundation told the groups in 1950, “for many years their only income from A.A. sources.” After Dr. Bob’s death that November, the first General Service Conference approved raising Bill’s to 15 percent. (About fifty homes, in Number One Man, tells how the royalties were settled.)
When the delegates to that first Conference looked over the books in April 1951, the office had lost $12,853 the year before. Its budget for 1951 was $107,000, and the Conference asked the groups for $2 a member. That year the groups gave about $21,000 more than the year before, and the office came within $17.83 of breaking even.
It didn’t last. In 1955 Bill wrote that a dollar a member had once been enough to run the office, “But at that time, a dollar was a dollar. Today, a dollar is only fifty cents.” Only about half the groups gave anything, he said, and in fifteen years the groups had paid the office’s bills in full in only five; “book money” had covered the deficits in the other ten. The delegates went home with ideas: a gift from each member on an AA birthday, four cents a week, even an empty whiskey bottle made into a bank and marked “Pour it in, Don’t pour it out.”
The Conference set a ceiling, too. From 1957 no member was to give more than $100 a year, and in 1967 the limit went up to $200. That October Bill wrote that AA wanted no charity and paid for its own services. “We understand—but we sometimes forget.”
It’s 1955, in New York. AA is twenty years old, and its office answers letters from all over the world. Who pays for it? The groups are asked for two dollars a member a year. About half of them send nothing.
Bill W. does the sums. In fifteen years, he writes, the groups have paid the office’s bills in full in only five. The other ten, money from the Big Book made up the difference. AA turned down outside money long ago, even a ten-thousand-dollar will. So the book carries the load.
The delegates go home with ideas to get the groups giving: four cents a week from every member, a gift on each member’s AA birthday, even an empty whiskey bottle made into a bank, with a label. Pour it in, it says. Don’t pour it out.