Few U.S.-based prizes have risen to the level of the most sought-after international honors, including the Nobel Prize and the Prix Goncourt.

If Your Name Isn’t Oscar
Alfred Nobel, inventor of dynamite, entrepreneur, author and pacifist, died in 1896 with a will decreeing (against the wishes of his family) that the bulk of his wealth be used to give prizes to those who have done their best for humanity in the fields of physics, chemistry, physiology or medicine, literature and peace. (The Bank of Sweden added a Nobel Prize in economics in 1969.) Yet Tise says it was largely the Peace Prize, first awarded to the founders of the Red Cross in 1901, that made Nobel and his honors a household name during a time when the world was going through, in rapid succession, the Spanish-American War, the Russo-Japanese War and then two world wars. Likewise, controversial winners such as Theodore Roosevelt and corecipients Henry Kissinger and Le Duc Tho—who declined the award in 1973, citing the fact that there was no peace in his country as the Vietnam War raged—helped generate buzz and created more awareness.

A high-profile name is a crucial component of an award, not because it boosts egos but because it lends weight to the cause.

A high-profile name is indeed a crucial component of an award, not because it boosts egos (which it does), but because it lends weight to the cause. Bruner, who is still on the lookout for greater publicity, says spreading the word leads to "people demanding more of what we do," referring to his foundation’s recognition of architecture that makes excellent use of restored spaces. A marketing niche helps as well. Tise notes that the Pulitzer Prize receives attention because it is awarded to journalists and publicized by their employers. "It’s the only set of awards that has its own PR mechanism built in," he says.

The MacArthur awards hit what Tise refers to as a marketing home run; the term "genius grant" is often applied to the MacArthur Foundation’s $500,000 prizes bestowed to individuals of "exceptional merit and promise as an investment in their continued work." The world is always curious about geniuses, but unfortunately for new prize donors, this particular term is already taken.

Even a seven-figure award does not guarantee attention. Consider the stumbling blocks that Steven M. Hilton, chairman, president and CEO of the Conrad N. Hilton Foundation, has encountered in bestowing the Conrad N. Hilton Humanitarian Prize, an annual award that presents $1.5 million to an organization that significantly alleviates human suffering. In 1996, when the foundation held its first awards dinner for the presentation of the prize to Operation Smile, it was difficult to get people to attend, Hilton says. "We just used the contacts we had within our own family and foundation, so there wasn’t a very large list of people we could invite." He was able to resolve that problem two years later by changing the venue for presenting the award; instead of a dinner, the foundation now organizes an entire conference for individuals working in the humanitarian field. "That has really helped gather a critical mass of people to make the event really special," he says.

Bruner, too, says that when he launched his award he had no idea how difficult it would be to spread the word to potential contestants. He found the first year particularly challenging because the mainstream media would not run pieces announcing that the award existed—and he did not have the budget for an advertising campaign. Instead, Bruner and the foundation’s staff sent mailings to professionals working in urban planning and architecture.

Originally, Bruner thought the prize would go to just one winner every two years, but he soon realized that giving five awards was a way to garner more publicity. "It gives us more to talk about," he says. It also gives the media in every recipient city a potential story, and local news coverage has turned out to be an excellent way to continue raising the profile of the Rudy Bruner Awards.