As Pond and other techno-millionaires of Silicon Valley have discovered, you don’t have to be named Du Pont or Carnegie to become a philanthropist. Even after last spring’s Nasdaq dive, the private family foundation is rapidly becoming a must-have, right up there with the Porsche and the house in Tahoe. “The image of the cyberstingy is really a myth,” says Peter Hero, president of the Silicon Valley Community Foundation. “It’s more a reflection of the fact that people who’ve come here from somewhere else don’t automatically know the community and where to get involved.” As a result, he says, the workplace can influence charitable giving in the Valley much as churches do elsewhere.

At Cisco, CEO John Chambers wants tithing to become part of the corporate culture, for everyone from modestly paid administrative assistants to the company’s 2,000 or so employee-millionaires. Starting this week, Cisco workers won’t even have to leave the company’s sprawling San Jose campus to start their philanthropic careers. At Hero’s urging, Cisco has hired an on-site “giving counselor” to help employees find worthy causes, whether through a one-time donation or a private foundation. “People in Silicon Valley are so busy they don’t have time to seek out giving opportunities,” says Catherine Gowen, the new counselor. That may be true, but it’s also a charitable interpretation: many techies still cling to the libertarian credo that their wealth is solely the result of individual genius and gumption, rather than the leg up provided by decades of federal- and university-funded research.

For the famously pampered employees of the Valley, used to free espresso and in-house masseuses, it may seem surprising to offer a service designed to liberate them from some of their wealth. According to Hero’s organization, though, many newly wealthy want to give money away, but are worried about being deluged by requests from organizations they’ve never heard of. Cisco’s benefits managers are betting that employees will appreciate a quick and easy way to learn about the nonprofit world, as well as help with the tax and legal implications of philanthropy.

Gowen plans a philanthropy Web site on the company’s intranet, and will offer group sessions as well as individual counseling. The same services will be available to all employees, Gowen stresses, not just the Nasdaq millionaires. “We’ll ask about their values, their interests and how they see themselves as philanthropists,” she says. “We’ll help them come up with a philanthropic mission statement.”

Pond says this is the kind of advice he could have used when he set up his foundation last year, after cobbling together information from his accountants and his lawyers. By law, charitable foundations must give away 5 percent of their assets each year in order to keep their tax-exempt status. For Pond, that means about $75,000, depending on the value of the Cisco shares. So far, Pond’s foundation has made $10,000 to $15,000 donations to causes ranging from his daughters’ school to a battered women’s shelter and Habitat for Humanity.

Cisco hopes that in-house giving will help the tech industry overcome its reputation for “deep pockets and short arms.” A recent study by the Silicon Valley Community Foundation found that 91 per-cent of 35- to 45-year-old millionaires in the Valley donate to nonprofits, but they often prefer to start their own ventures–for instance, a Web-design training program for low-income youths, or a nature preserve–rather than writing checks. “It’s very hands-on philanthropy by young people who care about creating change,” says Hero. If he’s right, the Internet generation may yet become known for giving away as much to others as they’ve managed to make for themselves.