Piya Saliba, CEO of Fountain Capital in Beverly Hills, California, spends her days moving between business and philanthropy, leading her firm while dedicating time to the Nalin and Naseeb Foundation and the Cedars-Sinai NICU Parent Council. Over the years, she has observed a common pattern in how people decide to take on new commitments: most say yes based on how a cause makes them feel in the moment. Saliba believes that approach is a mistake. A cause can be worthy and still be the wrong fit for a given person at a given time.
"People ask if a cause matters," she says. "That is rarely the real question. Almost every cause matters. The real question is whether you are the right person to help it, right now." To help answer that, Saliba poses four questions she asks herself before saying yes to any new commitment.
The first question is: what do I actually bring? Saliba says the first thing to ask is not whether you care about an issue, but what you would actually contribute. Time, money, a skill, a network, a story—each is different, and each asks something different of you. "I have sat in rooms where everyone cared and nobody could say what they were there to do," she says. "Caring gets you in the door. It does not tell you what to do once you are inside." She points to her own path as an example, without holding it up as a model for anyone else. Her early years split between Indonesia and Singapore gave her exposure to a family furniture business and to the arts at the same time. That mix taught her that people bring different kinds of value to a room, and that naming your own value clearly is more useful than general enthusiasm.
The second question is: what will this cost, and where? Every commitment has a cost, but Saliba says the cost that trips people up is rarely money—it is attention. "You can budget money," she says. "You cannot budget attention the same way. It leaks out of whatever you are not looking at." She suggests asking which part of life will quietly shrink to make room for a new commitment: sleep, a hobby, time with family, a slower version of work. Naming the cost in advance does not remove it, but it stops it from arriving as a surprise six months in.
The third question is: does this fit what I already know? Saliba's own commitments track closely to what she already understands. Her work with the Cedars-Sinai NICU Parent Council draws on her own experience with families in vulnerable moments, and her involvement with the Nalin and Naseeb Foundation reflects causes close to her. "I did not pick these because they were the biggest need out there," she says. "I picked them because I had something specific to offer, based on what I had already lived through or already knew." She says this question filters out a lot of well-meaning but poorly matched commitments. A person can be moved by a cause and still lack the specific footing to help it well. Better, she says, to find the place where personal history and present need actually line up.
The fourth question is: can I keep showing up? The last question Saliba asks is the plainest—not "can I say yes today," but "can I still say yes to this in a year." Nonprofits and causes rely on people who stay. A one-time burst of energy helps less than steady, smaller involvement over time. Saliba says she would rather commit to less and sustain it than take on more and quietly fade out. "Consistency is its own form of respect," she says. "It tells the people and the cause that you meant it." She still makes room for the arts in her own life—singing, acting, and dance—alongside her work and volunteer commitments. She sees that balance itself as a small daily version of the same question: what can I actually sustain, and where does it belong.
For readers, Saliba's framework offers a practical way to evaluate new commitments, whether in business, philanthropy, or personal life. By asking what you bring, what it costs, whether it fits your experience, and whether you can sustain it, individuals can avoid overcommitment and make more meaningful contributions. For nonprofits and cause-driven organizations, the message is clear: attracting committed, well-matched volunteers and donors matters more than simply generating initial enthusiasm. In a world where attention is increasingly scarce, Saliba's approach may help both individuals and organizations build stronger, more durable relationships.
