Alumni News

The Art of Generous Listening: A Q&A with SIPA Vuslat Doğan Sabancı MIA ’96

By Miranda Wang MPA ’25
Posted May 27 2025
Vuslat Doğan Sabancı


Vuslat Doğan Sabancı MIA ’96 has traveled a remarkable path from media executive to foundation leader, artist, and advocate. As the founder and president of the Vuslat Foundation, she has pioneered the concept of “Generous Listening” as a response to the growing crisis of disconnection in today’s polarized world.

Before establishing her foundation in 2020, Doğan Sabancı was the chairman of Hürriyet, where she transformed Turkey's premier newspaper into the country's top digital content provider while championing human rights, gender equality, and freedom of expression. Her “No! To Domestic Violence” campaign, launched in 2004, received a UN Grand Award and became a model for media-driven social impact initiatives.

Since its inception, the Vuslat Foundation has formed partnerships with a number of institutions of higher education, including the Disaster Prevention Center at Columbia University’s Climate School.

In this SIPA News Q&A, Doğan Sabancı reflects on her journey from SIPA to her current work, discussing how her education shaped her global perspective and why she believes the practice of listening “with both heart and mind” offers a path forward for addressing complex social challenges.

You’ve had a dynamic career at Hürriyet, one of Turkey’s leading newspapers, before founding the Vuslat Foundation. Can you tell us about your journey and how your experiences led to your current work?

After studying economics as an undergraduate in Turkey, I went on to SIPA for my graduate studies. Media’s potential for social impact has always fascinated me. I spent 20 years building my career in media, starting as a journalist at Hürriyet. Later, I moved to the business side and eventually rose to become the chair of the board at Hürriyet. Throughout those years, apart from running a media business, there were three important things I focused on: freedom of speech and expression, human rights — especially women's rights and gender equality — and combating domestic violence.

I put a lot of effort into these areas, not only through editorial coverage but also as an activist and civil society leader. I’m also a fellow of the International Press Institute (IPI), which rallies for press independence around the world. IPI started in 1950 with a group of journalists at Columbia University’s Journalism School.

What led you to take a sabbatical from the media and eventually develop the concept of “Generous Listening”?

Over the years, because of increasing political polarization, it became very difficult to create platforms in the media where different voices could be heard. This situation deteriorated for two reasons. First was technological — it became all about eyeballs and circulation numbers. The economics of media changed substantially, and representing just one side gets you more attention.

The second issue was the polarization in the world — political and social division everywhere. For these reasons, I decided to take a sabbatical from my role in media and embark on a journey of just listening.

I had been working on domestic violence for a long time, and despite our efforts, the numbers weren’t decreasing. So I went to prisons and listened to men who committed femicide. I listened to women who adopted a fundamentalist religious practice but also called themselves feminists. I visited remote areas in Anatolia to understand what was happening in eastern Turkey. I wanted to understand different people, so I went to places outside my comfort zone that challenged my values.

During that year of listening, I realized the importance of what I now call “generous listening.” We have a saying in Turkish that translates to “listening with your heart’s ear.” It’s about engaging both heart and mind when we listen. What I realized is that this kind of listening changes the power dynamic and the way we connect to each other. Surprisingly, it makes us fearless of each other, which allows for greater freedom because the walls of fear come down.

What are the core dimensions of the Vuslat Foundation’s approach to Generous Listening?

We decided to work on three pillars. The first is bringing awareness around why generous listening is important and what it actually is. When we start talking about the obstacles to listening — why we don't listen, how we can listen better — something already shifts. People start thinking about why they don’t listen.

The second pillar is research. We support academic research around generous listening — what happens when we listen generously? What happens to ourselves, to our relationships, and to our culture? I emphasize these three components because generous listening isn't just listening to someone else. As we define it, generous listening is three-dimensional, involving listening to yourself, others, and nature.

The third pillar is practice.

It’s one thing to know that listening is good and have evidence for it, but how do you actually do it? We've developed a methodology of generous listening that's adaptable for everyday usage. The beauty is in the simplicity of the practice.

Your foundation responded to the devastating 2023 Turkey earthquake. How did you apply Generous Listening in this crisis?

As the first step, we started generous listening support groups in the earthquake zone where thousands of people died and millions were affected.

We were originally planning to focus on the business community, but when the earthquake happened, we wanted to make our know-how and resources useful to the people who were affected. We went in three months after the earthquake when the immediate needs of shelter, food, and water were being addressed, but the psychological and emotional trauma still needed attention.

We partnered with NGOs in the field, and adapted our methodology with clinical psychologists who specialize in trauma. We created a 12-week trauma-informed program focused on generous listening to oneself, to others, and to nature. Then we formed generous listening emotional support groups of approximately 10 to 20 people, meeting for two-hour sessions weekly. These have grown into a community of over 1500 people committed to being generous listeners. Recently, we have started a volunteer-led program where generous listeners can become facilitators themselves and create their own groups. It has been very emotional and rewarding to observe empowered women healing and supporting each other. 

Can you share a powerful moment from these support groups that illustrates their impact?

In one session, I witnessed something remarkable. The facilitator opened the group by asking, “Is there anything you want to share from last week?” One participant said she had been carrying something since the previous week. She turned to another and said, “Here we learn to give space to each other, and we promised not to judge each other. But I was very harsh on you in our last meeting because you questioned the existence of God, and that's the only thing I have in my life.”

It was a touching moment because both women were coming from difficult circumstances. One was asking, “If there is a God, why are we in this position?” and the other was saying, “I have my God, that's all I have — you can't take that from me.” This was a fundamental subject, important to both of them. They had been in conflict previously, but now they had reached a point where they gave each other space, listened, and felt acknowledged. The session finished with tears, and I thought to myself, “We’re doing something good if this kind of conflict is coming to a resolution like this.”

Your foundation has conducted research on the impact of Generous Listening. What have you discovered and how are you expanding this work globally?

When we started the groups, we wanted to measure their impact. So we collaborated with Bilgi University in Istanbul, and the research showed many great outcomes. I think the most important finding was that the level of loneliness substantially decreases. The women reported they don’t feel lonely anymore; they feel supported, which is very important for social cohesion.

The research also showed decreased levels of depression and increased awareness of personal needs. The women reported that their relationships with their children changed, and their intimate relationships improved as well.

We’re also working with the Disaster Prevention Lab at Columbia University’s Climate School. They came to Turkey to observe the groups, and we’re now researching how to bring this approach to other places affected by disasters. I’d love to bring this work to Los Angeles, where I’m now based, to help people affected by fires. We’re also discussing working with refugees around the world, like Ukrainian refugees in Poland.

Additionally, we’ve established the Generous Listening and Dialogue Initiative (GLADI) at Tufts University’s Tisch College in Massachusetts. Tisch College is dedicated to civic rights, which makes it a good home for this work. The center conducts research and also implements the practices on campus.

How did your experience at SIPA influence your global perspective and current work?

My time at SIPA was truly enriching. It broadened my perspectives in many different areas and shaped how I approach complex global issues. Coming from Turkey, which is a predominantly Muslim country, there were aspects of my own culture I hadn’t studied. At SIPA, out of curiosity, I took some Islamic history classes and learned so much about Islam, which is ironic since I was born in a predominantly Muslim country but didn't know much about its history. This shifted my perspective, allowing me to see aspects of my own culture from different viewpoints.

SIPA also connected me with the world — with NGOs and global systems. This was at a time when globalization was at a different stage and the internet was just beginning, similar to how AI is emerging now. I felt much more connected to the world and gained a better understanding of how countries and global systems operate, which was fascinating.

You’re also a self-taught artist. How does your artistic work connect with the mission of the Vuslat Foundation?

I have done some major solo exhibitions. One was called “Silence,” and for the past three years, I've been working on my third exhibition focusing on a notion called “Emanet.”

Emanet is an ancient notion that means to be a custodian of something given to you. It involves not just responsibility but also caring and giving something your utmost interest and tenderness. There isn’t an exact equivalent in English, but the same word exists in Arabic (its language of origin), Hebrew, Turkish, Greek, Urdu, Persian — in nine different languages with exactly the same meaning.

To be a custodian of something doesn’t necessarily involve material things. For example, if I give you my children as an emanet, you would take care of them better than your own children, because the act of giving creates a bond based on trust. It’s a fundamental notion that aligns with the Vuslat Foundation and generous listening — both are about fostering trust and connections.