By Henry Mauriss
When people hear the word “data,” they often think of spreadsheets, algorithms, or cold, impersonal numbers. But in my experience, data can be one of the most powerful tools for doing deeply human work. In fact, I believe that if we want to create real, lasting change—especially in the nonprofit space—we need to treat data as a cornerstone, not an afterthought.
For me, this isn’t theoretical. It’s personal. I’ve spent decades building businesses in media and marketing, where performance is measured down to the second. And now, through Joshua’s Collective—our initiative to tackle California’s homelessness crisis—I’m applying those same principles to social impact. Because when you pair compassion with accountability, you get results that are not only meaningful, but measurable.
Why Good Intentions Aren’t Enough
There’s a common misconception in the nonprofit world that heart is more important than strategy. I’ll never downplay the value of compassion. It’s the heartbeat of any mission-driven effort. But if we don’t know what’s working and what’s not, we risk wasting time, energy, and resources on things that feel good but don’t make a real difference.
California has spent over $24 billion on homelessness in recent years, yet the numbers continue to climb. That’s not just unfortunate—it’s unacceptable. And part of the problem is a lack of data. We’re not consistently tracking which programs work. We’re not measuring long-term outcomes. We’re not being honest with ourselves about what success actually looks like.
At Joshua’s Collective, we’ve made a commitment to be different. From day one, we’re building our model around transparency, discipline, and data. It’s not just about doing something—it’s about doing the right thing, in the right way, for the right people.
Defining the Right Metrics
One of the first questions we asked ourselves was: what does success really mean in our context? Is it placing someone in temporary housing? Is it connecting them with mental health support? Is it getting them back into the workforce?
The truth is, it’s all of those things—and more. So we track them all. We follow each individual through their journey with us. We measure cost per client, time in program, housing stability, employment outcomes, and long-term independence. Our goal isn’t to manage homelessness. It’s to resolve it.
We estimate that our approach costs $17,528 per client over two years—less than half of what the average city or state program spends annually. But the real value comes from what happens after those two years. When someone no longer needs our support—when they have housing, a job, and a sense of self-worth—that’s our definition of success.
Using Data to Adapt, Not Just Report
A lot of organizations collect data. Far fewer use it to adapt and improve in real time. For us, data isn’t just a reporting tool—it’s a compass. If we see something isn’t working, we don’t wait until the end of the year to fix it. We pivot.
For example, we noticed in available data collected over many years that only segments of the homeless population in Los Angeles were receiving assistance with job placement, despite having employment backgrounds that could help them regain employment. When we dug into the numbers, we found a pattern: many of them lacked basic digital literacy skills. That insight leads us to add a training module focused on computer use, email, and navigating online job applications. The result? A measurable increase in job placement rates within just a few months. Moreover, on the topic of employment, we plan to expand Joshua’s Collective’s focus on actively assisting each client not only with finding at least entry-level employment, but obtaining copies of prior GED, trade, technical and similar documentation to assist them with gaining better jobs; to keep elevating their employment-and earnings-status.
That’s the power of data—it helps you ask better questions and build better solutions. And over time, those small adjustments add up to big impact.
Accountability Builds Trust
One of the unexpected benefits of our data-first approach has been the trust it builds—with donors, partners, and even the communities we serve. When you can show people how their support is being used, when you can point to real outcomes and real lives changed, it shifts the conversation.
We’re not just saying “we care.” We’re showing how that care translates into results. And that level of accountability raises the bar—for us, and for everyone involved.
I’ve had potential partners tell me that they’re committing to work with Joshua’s Collective because we’re already treating them like stakeholders, not just funders or suppliers. We’re sharing our data, our challenges, and our strategy. That kind of transparency turns one-time donations into long-term relationships. It turns volunteers into advocates. And it turns ideas into movements.
Balancing Heart and Head
I often say that Joshua’s Collective is where compassion meets execution. That balance—between heart and head—is what makes the difference. It’s not easy. Sometimes, the data tells you a hard truth. Sometimes, it asks you to let go of programs you care about or to shift resources in unexpected ways.
But in my view, that’s the price of doing meaningful work. If we really want to honor the people we’re trying to help, we have to be willing to hold ourselves to the same standards we expect from any high-performing organization. We have to be honest about what’s working and what’s not.
Final Thoughts
Social impact shouldn’t be soft. It should be smart. Thoughtful. Measurable.
That doesn’t mean we lose our humanity. In fact, it means we lean into it even more—because we’re using every tool available to do the most good we can.
At Joshua’s Collective, we believe in people. We believe they deserve a path out of homelessness that actually works. And we believe data can light that path.
If we want to make real change, we need to stop guessing. We need to start measuring. And we need to keep building systems that turn care into action, and action into outcomes. That’s where true impact begins.