Is Watchtower Slowly Going Broke in the United States?

Watchtower, the organization that runs the religion of Jehovah's Witnesses, appears to have a money problem in at least several countries — and possibly in the United States, its largest and wealthiest branch. The United States has no laws forcing religious nonprofits to disclose their finances, and true to form, Watchtower has never published a financial statement here. But this month, a leaked internal letter to elders — combined with audited financial filings from countries that do force disclosure — gives us a clearer picture than usual of what's actually happening with the money.

I was a Jehovah's Witness for 40 years. I sat through countless donation resolutions, counted the contributions in the boxes at the back of the hall, and filled out the little report slips for the secretary. I heard constant reminders about how different we supposedly were from "Christendom" because we never passed a collection plate. What follows compares that public image to a leaked August 2026 instruction letter to roughly 12,000 American congregations, an earlier 2022 version of the same instructions, Watchtower's own broadcasts, and audited financial filings from Australia, Britain, and Canada.

What Watchtower Claims About Money

On JW.org, in the frequently asked questions, Watchtower states plainly:

Jehovah's Witnesses are not expected to tithe or to donate any specific amount or percentage of their income.

The same page adds that the religion does not solicit donations: no collection plates, no fees for baptisms, weddings, or funerals, no bake sales, no bingo, and no fixed amounts required from publishers (their term for members). To be fair, some of that holds up. They don't pass a plate, they don't charge for literature, and there are no fees for anything that happens inside a Kingdom Hall. But that's not the whole picture, and the part rank-and-file members never see makes that clear.

The Leaked Letter: Form S147

In August 2026, a set of internal elder instructions — form S147 — leaked. It's five pages, split between a section read to the whole congregation and a section meant only for elders' eyes. Multiple longtime elders reportedly described the language as the strongest they've ever seen on the subject of money.

At the center of it is the annual donation resolution. Once a year, every congregation votes on a resolution committing to send a fixed amount of money to headquarters every month. On paper, it looks like congregational democracy — the resolution is stated, seconded, and voted on by a show of hands. In practice, the congregation has almost no input into the number itself.

Paragraph 7 of the elders' instructions lays out the mechanics: the branch office sets a "per publisher" amount, posted on an internal documents website, and the elders multiply that figure by the number of active publishers in the congregation to arrive at the suggested monthly donation. Paragraph 8 goes further:

In general the amount of the monthly resolution should be equal to or greater than the per publisher amount recommended by the branch office.

Equal to or greater. The branch sets the number, the elders do the multiplication, and the resolution is drafted so the number gets met or beaten — only then does the congregation get to raise its hands. If a member doesn't raise a hand, or causes a fuss about it, they risk being viewed as spiritually weak for not following the direction of the elders.

According to the Pimo (physically in, mentally out) elder who leaked the letter — a source who leaks regularly on the ex-JW side of Reddit and has proven reliable — this year's per-publisher amount is $11.50, up from $11 the year before. For a 100-publisher congregation, that's at least $1,150 a month, or $13,800 a year, expected as a baseline.

The public portion of the letter does acknowledge the increase:

You will notice that the monthly amount had to be slightly increased. Therefore, we ask each publisher to prayerfully consider what they can give so their congregation can be able to contribute its share.

"Its share" is billing language for an organization that claims it doesn't mandate anything. The announcement also reassures congregations that the money supports construction in the more than 170 lands that need financial support, and that technology and related services are provided "free of charge." If they're free, there's no obvious reason a fixed amount per publisher would be required — or why the congregation isn't simply free to decide how much it wants to give.

The letter anticipates congregations that can't meet the number:

If current donations are not sufficient to care for existing obligations while also supporting the suggested monthly donation, please consider how the publishers may be clearly informed of the congregation's financial circumstances and tactfully reminded of their privilege of honoring Jehovah with their valuable things.

That's not "give what you can." That's an instruction to apply pressure.

Coaching Elders to Extract More

The letter includes a list of suggestions for elders to increase giving. One asks whether publishers could be encouraged to set up recurring donations at donate.jw.org, and whether those who already have recurring donations could be "encouraged to review them" — that is, prompted to give more. The fourth bullet reads:

Our parents helping their children appreciate that supporting kingdom interest through donations is part of their worship to Jehovah.

Watchtower's public claim is that no one is expected to donate a specific amount. Internally, elders are being coached to make sure children understand that giving money is part of worshiping God. The letter suggests this list could be addressed in a future "local needs" talk — a part given during the midweek meeting by an elder.

Then comes paragraph 9:

Regardless of the congregation's circumstances, look for opportunities to commend the publishers for their generosity and willing spirit in supporting kingdom interests.

Pressure first, then praise — delivered by men the congregation is taught to trust without question.

The Timing Isn't an Accident

The meeting workbook, produced months in advance by the same organization, schedules a Bible highlights talk called "The Importance of Good Shepherds" for the first week of August, alongside a 15-minute feature from an in-house history series titled "The Governing Body Preserves Unity" — ten minutes of stories about self-sacrificing leaders, including praise for a past president whose letters called on "the brothers" to live in harmony under the organization's direction. That's what the congregation sits through immediately before hearing the donation announcement.

The letter also specifies that if the resolution isn't settled the first week, "the resolution will be presented the following week" — and that week's workbook happens to schedule a 15-minute local needs part, exactly the kind of slot the letter suggested using to push the list of giving suggestions. If a third week is needed, that week has a local needs part scheduled too. There were no local needs parts scheduled in all of July, none for the rest of August after those two weeks, and none in September. I can't prove the timing was deliberately engineered — the workbook follows a years-long reading schedule — but the same people who set the donation amount also write the meeting programs.

Two More Details in the Letter

The letter announces that a headquarters representative will visit the US branch in April 2027, with a special program replacing the regular weekend meeting in every US congregation. According to the leaking elder, the previous visit was twelve years earlier, in 2014; there was another this past April, with the next one already scheduled for April 2027.

The letter also addresses the 2027 Memorial — the Witnesses' most solemn commemoration and biggest annual gathering, where most attendees decline the bread and wine that represent Christ's body and blood. Because the Kingdom Hall schedule forces a late start, the letter suggests:

It may be beneficial to rent a suitable facility to allow for an earlier start time.

So at the same time the per-publisher requirement is rising, congregations are also being pointed toward a new rental expense to boost Memorial attendance.

How 2022 Was Different

The Pimo elder also leaked the 2022 version of this same instruction. It reads very differently:

It is understood that some congregations will not be able to donate the suggested amount while others will be able to donate more. On the other hand, if the suggested amount would impose a hardship on the congregation, a lesser amount should be determined.

Four years ago, hardship mattered, and a struggling congregation could set a lower amount with the branch's blessing. In 2026, that sentence is gone — not softened, just removed — and replaced with "equal to or greater than," plus instructions for pressuring congregations that fall short, including coaching aimed at children. The 2022 version was a few bland sentences; the 2026 version is the longest paragraph in the letter.

How the Money Actually Flows

The word "voluntary" does a lot of work in this system, and it hasn't always meant what it implies. Decades ago, congregations were genuinely financially independent — they owned their Kingdom Halls, held their own mortgages, built the buildings with volunteer labor, and kept their own untouched bank accounts.

That changed through a paper trail of letters. Letters to bodies of elders in 1993 and 1995 routed Kingdom Hall construction and financing through the Society's programs and funds. A December 2009 letter from the Canadian branch noted that "some congregations have excess funds sitting in checking accounts with little or no interest being earned," and proposed a "funds on deposit" arrangement — congregations send their savings to the branch, which holds it and pays interest. The British branch pitched the identical setup in July 2010, promising that "by consolidating any excess funds into the funds on deposit arrangement more interest can be generated." By December 2010, the Canadian branch was commending congregations for "allowing their excess funds to be used by the branch" — not merely deposited, but used, with no say from the congregation in how.

In the 2010s, US congregations were presented with resolutions transferring ownership of their Kingdom Halls — buildings members built with their own labor and paid for with their own money — to Watchtower itself. Almost all of them voted yes, the same way the donation resolutions get voted yes. Today, a congregation keeps only a small operating cushion; everything beyond that goes to Watchtower, and if a hall needs a repair, the congregation has to ask the branch for the money.

Every path a dollar can take ends up in the same place. Money dropped in the box marked "local congregation expenses" funds the congregation's own obligations, including its share of the per-publisher resolution to the branch — and if the local account grows too large, the excess gets sent to Watchtower anyway. Money dropped in the box marked "worldwide work" skips the local level entirely. Recurring online donations — pushed three separate times in the leaked letter — flow straight to the branch automatically. There is no route that doesn't ultimately land at Watchtower, beyond what's minimally needed locally.

The Best Counterargument

A believing Witness might reasonably respond that every religion asks for money, that costs are up everywhere, and that $11.50 a month is nothing compared to a 10% tithe. All of that is fair as a general defense of religious giving. But it doesn't explain why the hardship clause was deleted specifically in 2026, why the tone escalated instead of staying flat despite inflation being a constant, or why the coaching now explicitly extends to children. It's a good defense of asking for money in general — it doesn't explain this particular letter.

What the Audited Numbers Show

Watchtower operates roughly 60 separate legal entities worldwide by my count, including 19 in countries where regulators force disclosure — Australia, Britain, Canada, the Netherlands, and others. I went through the available filings.

Australia files audited accounts with the national charity regulator. Donations were $31.2 million Australian dollars in 2020, the peak of the series, dropping to $10.7 million in 2021 and $8.4 million in 2022 — a roughly 75% collapse in two years. The filings don't explain why, only what: by fiscal year 2025, donations had only recovered to about $13.5 million, still less than half the 2020 peak, despite several of the highest inflation years in a generation.

Britain is stranger. The main British entity took in between £90 million and £130 million for four straight years, then dropped to £38.5 million in 2025 while spending £78 million — leaving close to a £38 million deficit. Its century-old sister entity, the International Bible Students Association (IBSA), saw income cut almost in half over the same period and ran deficits in three of the five years.

That shortfall isn't universal. Canadian donations have roughly doubled over the same years, and Dutch donations have roughly quadrupled. Canada's total assets climbed for six consecutive years without a single reversal: $47 million Canadian dollars in 2019, then $83 million, $146 million, $211 million, $276 million, and $352 million by 2024 — a 7.5-fold increase. The fastest-growing line item is cash and short-term investments, up 22-fold to $129 million Canadian dollars (roughly $91 million US) — not buildings, not Kingdom Halls in Africa, but liquid cash.

There's a caveat: some of that Canadian growth could reflect congregations transferring excess savings and property up to the branch rather than new giving. But that doesn't let the organization off the hook — either way, the money is leaving the local level and piling up at the top. And Canada's "received gifts" figure, which reports actual donations from individuals separately, still doubled on its own.

So among the countries where disclosure is mandatory, the picture splits: two branches in visible decline, two in clear growth. Somewhere in between sits the United States — the branch with no disclosure requirement at all, and the branch that just had its hardship clause deleted.

Doing the Math on Kingdom Halls

On a JW Broadcast segment, Governing Body member Stephen Lett priced a new "simplified but dignified" Kingdom Hall in the Philippines:

Speaking of the need for Kingdom Halls, as just one example, please look at these pictures from the Philippines. Here are six before-and-after photographs. And what do you think was the individual average cost of these six new simplified but dignified Kingdom Halls? Twenty-one thousand US.

A 100-publisher US congregation giving $11.50 per publisher sends the branch $13,800 a year — enough to build an entire $21,000 Kingdom Hall in about a year and a half. Scaled across roughly 12,000 US congregations at that same rate, that's about $165 million a year, enough by Lett's own pricing to build nearly 8,000 Kingdom Halls annually.

According to Watchtower's own service reports, there was a net gain of 2,254 congregations in Africa and Asia between 2020 and 2025. Assuming one Kingdom Hall per congregation at $21,000 each, that's about $47 million needed. Over five years, US congregations at $11.50 per publisher would be expected to generate roughly $814 million — leaving something like $767 million unaccounted for by the stated purpose of building halls in poorer lands.

Watchtower has also, at least in the US, asked members to hand over insurance payouts when rebuilding homes after disasters, which suggests at least some disaster-relief costs are already covered by insurance rather than donations. And Canada's own cash surplus of roughly $91 million US would, on its own, be more than enough to cover the Kingdom Hall construction being cited as the reason for pressuring American congregations. Meanwhile, the number of US congregations actually shrank by 552 between 2020 and 2025.

What This Adds Up To

Publicly, Watchtower says Jehovah's Witnesses aren't expected to tithe or donate any specific amount. Internally, the organization sets a fixed per-publisher amount, instructs that congregation resolutions should equal or exceed it, deleted the hardship exception that existed as recently as 2022, escalated the pressure applied to congregations that fall short, built out recurring-payment infrastructure, and added coaching aimed at getting children to view giving as worship.

In the countries where the books are open, the numbers explain the change in tone: Australia's donations collapsed by roughly three-quarters and haven't recovered; Britain's main entity ran a nearly £38 million deficit in a single year; Canada and the Netherlands, by contrast, are seeing rising donations and swelling cash reserves that aren't obviously being used to fund construction elsewhere. In the United States — the largest publisher base, in the wealthiest country, with the branch the rest of the system leans on — there are no books to check. There is only this letter, its predecessor from 2022, and the difference between them.

None of this proves the US branch is running short of money; the law doesn't require Watchtower to show its work here, and it doesn't. But an organization doesn't quietly delete the word "hardship" from its donation instructions, script pressure into the meeting schedule, and start recruiting children into the appeal, while nothing has changed underneath it.