When Joe Biden unveiled his plans for a presidential library back in September 2025, the announcement landed with more of a whimper than a bang. Despite the ceremonial optimism that usually surrounds such projects, the Biden library effort has quickly become a case study in fundraising woes and political ambivalence. According to The New York Times, the Joseph R. Biden Jr. Presidential Library Foundation has struggled to attract donors, secure a site, or even articulate a clear vision for the library’s future—raising fundamental questions about whether the institution will ever exist as anything more than a line item in the National Archives.
The numbers, frankly, are grim. As of December 2025, Biden’s library foundation had not received a single new donation in 2024, the final year of his presidency. The $4 million in seed money it did possess came not from enthusiastic supporters, but from leftover funds from Biden’s 2021 inauguration. The foundation, incorporated in December 2024, has been tight-lipped about any funds raised in 2025, a silence that speaks volumes about the project’s traction—or lack thereof. The first major event aimed at potential donors is only now being held on Monday, December 15, 2025, in Washington’s Georgetown neighborhood, suggesting that active fundraising has barely begun.
Public filings and interviews with donors paint a bleak picture. The foundation has told the Internal Revenue Service it expects to raise just $11.3 million by the end of 2027. That’s not just below expectations; it’s a rounding error compared to the fundraising hauls of other recent presidents. For context, George W. Bush’s library foundation hit its $500 million fundraising goal before the library was even dedicated. The Obama Foundation has raised over $1.5 billion, with $850 million committed to the Obama Presidential Center in Chicago, set to open in 2026. Even Donald Trump’s planned library in Miami, formally approved in September 2025, is aiming for nearly $1 billion and has already secured land and a substantial chunk of funding through legal settlements and private donations.
Biden’s foundation, by contrast, has yet to select a specific site—though Wilmington, Delaware, has been floated—and has released no details on design or construction timelines. Its stated goal of $200 million seems almost aspirational at this point, given the current pace. The project’s leadership, including foundation chair Rufus Gifford and executive directors Annie Tomasini and Anthony Bernal, hired the consulting firm CCS Fundraising over the summer to assess prospects. In September, the Bidens sent letters to potential supporters, inviting them to participate in 45-minute interviews to gauge their willingness to donate. But so far, the response has been tepid.
The reasons for this malaise are as much political as they are financial. Several prominent Democratic donors have either not been contacted or have made it clear they have little interest in contributing. John Morgan, a longtime Democratic bundler, told The New York Times, “He’ll be lucky to have a bookmobile.” Some donors have cited poor treatment by Biden’s staff, while others are focused on defeating Donald Trump or are simply frustrated with Biden’s presidency. According to Axios, Biden’s decision to pardon his son Hunter further alienated some Democrats, with a number of donors threatening to withhold support for the library project.
This donor fatigue and intra-party discontent have led to serious discussions about whether the Biden library should even exist as a standalone institution. According to four people familiar with the planning process, there are ongoing talks about merging the library with existing Biden institutions at the University of Delaware—Biden’s alma mater—which has already raised at least $22 million (including $20 million from the state government) to construct “Biden Hall.” Such a merger could allow the library to share resources and reduce costs, but both the university and the Biden foundation have declined to comment on whether this is a real possibility.
At present, the Biden library exists only as a corporate entity and as a placeholder on the National Archives website. No final site has been selected, no design has been unveiled, and no construction timeline has been released. Wilmington, Delaware, remains under discussion, but nothing is set in stone. The lack of progress has fueled speculation that, rather than a grand presidential library, Biden’s legacy may ultimately be absorbed into the Penn Biden Center or the University of Delaware, resulting in a far more modest footprint than those of his predecessors.
The contrast with other recent presidents is stark. The Obama Presidential Center, despite controversy over its cost and local impact, is set to open in 2026 as a sprawling civic attraction. Donald Trump’s Miami library, promoted as a major tourist destination, has already cleared significant bureaucratic and financial hurdles. Even George H.W. Bush’s library, at the low end of the modern scale, raised $43 million—still several times what Biden’s foundation now expects to collect by 2027.
Why the lack of enthusiasm? Part of the answer lies in Biden’s standing within his own party. As one commentator from PJ Media put it, the slow fundraising pace and low goals “raise serious questions about whether Biden’s library will ever be built as a standalone institution or will end up far more modest.” The same commentator speculated that the struggles reflect “how little he, as a person, and frankly, as president, mattered to the Democratic Party.” Harsh words, but they echo a broader sentiment among some Democratic donors who feel the party has moved on, and that Biden’s time in office was more about holding the line than building an enduring legacy.
Others point to the broader climate of donor fatigue and shifting priorities. With the 2024 and 2028 election cycles drawing immense financial resources, many major Democratic donors are more focused on electoral politics than on brick-and-mortar memorials. The Biden library’s fundraising woes are also compounded by the perception—fair or not—that his administration was marked by inflation, foreign policy missteps, and intra-party strife, making the prospect of celebrating his presidency less appealing to some supporters.
It’s not all doom and gloom, of course. The foundation is still in the early stages of active fundraising, and the upcoming Georgetown event may help jumpstart efforts. There’s also the possibility that merging with an established institution like the University of Delaware could provide a sustainable path forward, allowing Biden’s legacy to be preserved, if not in grand style, then at least with dignity and continuity.
For now, though, the Biden presidential library remains an open question—one that speaks volumes about the challenges of legacy-building in a polarized, fast-moving political landscape. Whether the project can overcome its slow start and modest ambitions remains to be seen, but for the moment, it stands as a cautionary tale about the fickle nature of political support and the complexities of fundraising in the post-presidency era.
As the foundation prepares for its first major donor event, all eyes are on Georgetown—and on whether Biden’s legacy can find the financial and institutional backing it needs to move from aspiration to reality.
