The Business Card Graveyard
Your candidate came home from that fundraiser with 23 business cards. Want to bet how many made it into your CRM?
Your candidate just walked through a room of 200 people at a house party in Newport Beach. Shook hands, made promises, collected cards.
23 business cards. 23 potential donors. 23 people who looked the candidate in the eye and said "I want to help."
How many of those made it into your CRM with accurate notes by Monday?
If you're honest? Maybe 8.
The rest are sitting in a coat pocket, a laptop bag, or a pile on someone's desk. By the time they get entered — if they get entered — nobody remembers which conversation went with which card.
"Great guy, super enthusiastic" doesn't help when you're trying to make an ask six weeks later.
The Anatomy of a Lost Donor
Here's how it happens:
Friday 9 PM: Candidate collects 23 cards. Puts them in jacket pocket. Makes mental notes about the good ones.
Saturday: Candidate has three more events. More cards. Previous batch migrates to a rubber band pile in the car.
Sunday: Day off. Cards still in car.
Monday: Staff asks for the cards. Candidate remembers "the lawyer who knew dad" and "the lady from the hospital board" but can't match faces to names.
Tuesday: Intern enters 15 cards. No notes. No context. Just names and numbers in a database.
Week 3: Finance director calls "Robert Chen" from the list. Has no idea this is the Stanford roommate of your county chair who was ready to host a $25K event — if anyone had followed up within a week.
Robert's now helping your opponent.
The 48-Hour Window
Donor psychology isn't complicated: enthusiasm decays.
When someone meets a candidate and feels a connection, they're primed to act. But that window closes fast.
Within 24 hours: They remember the conversation. They're still feeling good. Follow-up converts.
Within 48 hours: Memory is fading but recognition is there. "Oh right, the candidate. Yes, let's talk."
Within a week: "Who? Oh, at the thing. Yeah, maybe call back later."
After two weeks: You're starting from scratch. The handshake meant nothing.
Every business card that sits in a pocket for a week is a donor who went from "ready to help" to "cold prospect" while you did nothing.
What Should Happen
Candidate finishes an event. Takes out phone. Snaps photos of business cards.
Before leaving the parking lot:
- Names and contact info extracted automatically
- LinkedIn profiles matched
- Political giving history pulled (who have they supported?)
- Wealth indicators attached
- Relationship connections mapped (who do they know that you know?)
Next morning, finance director has a prioritized list:
- Dr. Sarah Kim — $50K capacity, gave to Faulconer, connected via your hospital board member. Hot lead.
- Mike Okonkwo — Tech exec, first-time political engagement, Romney donor parents. High upside.
- Jennifer Walsh — Gave small to your primary opponent. Convert carefully.
Each one gets a personalized follow-up within 24 hours. Candidate's notes from the evening — voice-memo'd during the drive home — are attached to the right records.
Nobody fell through the cracks. Nobody got forgotten. Nobody had to do data entry.
The Real Job
Your staff shouldn't be doing data entry. They should be building relationships, making asks, and closing commitments.
Every minute spent transcribing business cards is a minute not spent on work that actually raises money.
The campaigns that win aren't the ones with the best data entry discipline. They're the ones that removed data entry from the equation entirely.
AutomatedTeams turns business cards into donor intelligence in seconds. Your contacts are enriched before you leave the parking lot.

Eric Linder
Former California Assemblyman. Now building AI operations for political campaigns.
ericlinder.com →