Donors like permanence. Gift instruments are full of words like forever, in perpetuity, and solely for the purpose of. But institutions outlive purposes. Diseases get cured, schools close, neighborhoods empty, currencies of need change. When a charitable gift’s stated purpose becomes impossible, illegal, or impracticable, the law faces a choice: let the gift fail and fall back to heirs who may be generations gone, or redirect it. The doctrine that redirects it is cy pres, from the law French cy pres comme possible: as near as possible.
What is the doctrine, in one paragraph?
When property is given in trust for a charitable purpose and that purpose can no longer be carried out, a court may direct the property to a different charitable purpose that approximates the donor’s original intent, rather than letting the trust fail. Classically this required finding that the donor had a general charitable intent, a purpose broader than the single named use, so that redirection honored the donor rather than overriding them. Modern law, including the Uniform Trust Code, has softened that requirement by presuming general charitable intent unless the instrument says otherwise. The burden has shifted: donors who truly want their gift to die with its purpose must now say so, typically with an express reverter or gift-over clause.
What are the classic cases, and the modern ones?
The doctrine’s museum pieces are famous in trusts casebooks: bequests to abolish slavery redirected after abolition, funds for diseases since eradicated, scholarships tied to schools that no longer exist. Massachusetts courts were early and influential in this field, and one of the foundational American cy pres cases arose here from an abolitionist’s bequest, redirected after emancipation to purposes serving formerly enslaved people. The modern docket is less romantic but constant: a small charity dissolves and its assets must go somewhere, a restricted endowment no longer matches any program the institution runs, a donor-named building comes down. A related statutory cousin, UPMIFA, gives charities a parallel path for modifying restrictions on institutional endowment funds, sometimes without full court proceedings for small, old funds.
There is also a second life of the term in class action practice, where courts distribute unclaimed settlement funds to charities whose work relates to the injury sued over. That borrowing has drawn criticism and tighter judicial scrutiny over the years, precisely because the fit between recipients and class members can get loose. It is the same phrase doing different work, and worth keeping separate from the trust doctrine.
Where does the attorney general fit?
Charitable gifts have a structural oddity: their beneficiaries, the public, cannot sue to enforce them. The office that stands in for the public interest in charitable assets is the state attorney general, which is why AG offices appear as parties in cy pres proceedings, dissolutions, and disputes over restricted gifts. In a cy pres case the court decides, but the AG participates to represent the public’s stake in the outcome, one piece of the broader charity oversight role covered elsewhere on this site. This post stays at the level of public doctrine; how any particular office handles particular matters is not blog material.
What should drafters take from all this?
For donors and the lawyers who draft for them, cy pres is an argument for precision about flexibility. Say what the purpose is. Then say what should happen if the purpose becomes impossible: name a successor purpose, authorize the trustee or the institution to redirect within stated bounds, or, if the gift really should end, say that expressly. Silence now means a judge, years or centuries later, will approximate your intent with the attorney general in the room. Courts do that job carefully, but the donor who answers the question in the document keeps the pen.
I am a law student, not a lawyer. Nothing here is legal advice.
