Enough.

01 · Roots

Where it came from

My parents were union steelworkers in Indiana. They taught me hard work and fairness.

My dad, Worth, was the first person hired at the Bethlehem Steel plant in Burns Harbor and, years later, its most senior man. My mom, Reva, was an electrician there. Her one rule: “Never do anything half-assed.”

Dad and I were pals. He built a barn out of scrap lumber from construction sites, and it pleased him to no end. He believed everybody has to find their own groove. His truck had a license plate holder that said “Groove Master.”

My parents voted for opposite parties. Every election they’d go to the polls together, cancel each other out, and come home and have a good day.

02 · Lessons

What I learned

The joy was never the money. And influence is more complicated than it seems.

I’m a guy who made his money on the internet. Thirty years ago I helped invent many of the technologies it runs on. I know where that money came from: millions of ordinary people.

In 2007, at 39, I sold my company. I’ve called it the biggest mistake of my life. A few days later, bagging my own groceries at Safeway, I couldn’t answer a simple question: if I wasn’t building anything or helping anyone, what was I? I’d built my identity on being useful.

I had more money than I’d ever need, and I knew it was supposed to do some good. Philanthropy is harder than it looks. Just giving money away felt hollow, so I built things, including online communities for civil debate. I hoped people would argue the way my parents did and still have a good day. They dug in instead. I couldn’t code my way out of that.

Money and good intentions don’t add up to good influence on their own. The first part of philanthropy is to heal thyself, and for me that was art. In 2015 a friend told me to learn something worth remembering. I painted full-time for two years. The paintings weren’t masterpieces, but they were honest.

03 · Enough

What enough means

More rich people need to say “enough.” I’ll go first.

My dad died on January 16, 2021. For years he’d told me, “Andrew, I’m ready to go. I’ve done everything I needed to do.” I made it home in time.

For a few weeks I stayed in my childhood home and slept in my old bedroom. I realized I’d been paralyzed by fear for years. My dad didn’t live that way. He found his groove and he stayed in it. So I stopped being afraid.

Then my mom died, and that’s when it crystallized. I’d already made more money than I could ever spend. This isn’t charity. It’s a correction.

04 · Giving

Where it goes now

It goes into art, in public places anyone can walk into. Every event is free.

If art could help heal one broken tech guy from Indiana, what could it do with real places built around it? In 2022 I started the Conru Art Foundation in Seattle to find out.

about $20.9M

What I put into the Conru Art Foundation in 2024–25. All of it my own money.

about $9.7M

Granted to more than 200 nonprofits since 2019 through our personal foundation.

$0

My salary.

I can’t promise any of it will work. You do what you can. You show up and do the work in front of you. And if it’s not enough? Well, at least it wasn’t half-assed.