We ran a seminar with Adult Social Care at Leeds City Council yesterday exploring the idea of timebanking.

If you’ve not come across timebanking before, you can find out more on this Scoop.It site that we’ve put together – or by visiting the Timebanking UK website. You can also find out more about Just Add Spice – whose co-director, Tris Dyson, spoke at our seminar yesterday. In essence, it’s about give and take. People offer time to eachother, and get credits in return – which can be used to buy in the time of someone else in the timebank.

If you were to look inside my head you would discover the remnants of a lifetime of discussions between my sceptical self and my idealist self. I love the values behind timebanking. The idea of helping people to focus on what they can offer, as well as what they need. The concept of everyone’s time being of equal value. The importance of putting some kind of value on the social capital which makes life worth living.

But I worry that it’s one of those things which is much better in theory than it is in practice. My worry isn’t about people abusing the system – taking and not giving, or perhaps even stealing. Instead my concern is that people won’t take enough. They’ll give for a while – and then not get round to taking. For timebanking to work, we need people who are willing to accept help and support – as well as people are happy to give it.

There was a lot of discussion yesterday about how a timebank would work – in particular focusing on the role of the broker – the person who will help to ensure that people give and take. The impression I get is that in most cases we have to aim for a fairly light-touch broker, for two reasons. One is that there isn’t much money about – so we’ll struggle to sustain any timebanks which rely too much on paid staff.

Secondly, I think part of the attraction of timebanking is its DIY nature. I fear for timebanks which end up with a broker housed within a third sector or public sector organisation – unless that broker sees their role as that of a catalyst – moving on – or at least stepping back – once things are running smoothly. We really don’t need brokers who feel they need to cover their backs by routinely getting everyone to have CRB checks for example.

I’m not gung-ho about safety concerns, but I think part of the value of timebanking is the opportunity it gives us to start taking some responsibility – and making our own decisions about whether we want to accept a service from someone. I think there’s far more danger in communities that don’t talk to eachother than there is in connected communities where people are dealing with eachother on a more regular basis.

But as I say, the scepticism – and the desire to work out what might stop timebanking from working in Leeds – is balanced by a real sense of what it could achieve. There were various ideas discussed yesterday – from simple neighbourhood (person to person) based timebanks, run on a voluntary basis, to slightly more involved ones, (often agency to person) where people might be able to redeem credits not just for services from within the timebank, but for services from the local authority, or local businesses. So an hour at a Housing Association consultation might be exchanged for an hour at the local council swimming baths – which needs more customers to survive. Or a local coffee shop might want to acknowledge the efforts of local volunteers by allowing for a time-limited exchange of credits for coffee and cake.

But isn’t that going against the very nature of volunteering? There’s a discussion to be had about that I think, but my own take is that we need to lose this idea that volunteering is all about selfless giving. Self-interest – what’s in it for me – is an important part of the reasoning behind giving. If people give more because they’re acknowledged, and get something in return, then in my opinion that’s no bad thing.

Personally, I’m most intrigued by the anecdotal evidence I’m hearing time and again of the impact timebanking can have on improving people’s mental health. It makes a lot of sense. I know myself – you probably do too – that one of the best ways of dragging myself out of occasional dark places is to do something for someone else, to be reminded that I have skills to give and have a value to others. There’s far more to better mental health than that, but it could be a starting point for some.

I’ll write more about this in the future – but in the meantime, if you’re in Leeds and you’re interested in exploring timebanking more please get in touch. The Ideas That Change Lives fund that we work on is interested in investing in timebanking – and we’re planning another get-together later in the month. We’re particularly interested in chatting with individuals (not just people working in organisations) who want to see something happen in their community.

I went last night to the launch of an opportunity to invest in a pioneering strawbale co-housing community in Leeds.

I’ll let LILAC tell you more themselves.  You can also find out more on their website and on this blogpost from someone else who was there last night.

LILAC Cohousing Documentary from LILAC on Vimeo.

What impressed me last night was how the people involved responded to some fairly detailed questioning.  I talk a lot in my work about the need for activists and entrepreneurs – we need to be both if we are going to tackle some of the big social problems we face.  There’s a real passion amongst LILAC members to build something pioneering – but they’re not wishy-washy about it. This is a well-planned, well-executed development.  And, crucially, a development which seems to be meeting unmet demand – as all but 5 of the houses and flats are already allocated.  (You can contact them here if you’re interested in living at LILAC – they’re particularly keen to attract more families with school-age children.)

They asked me to say a few words last night in support of what they’re doing.  I’ve followed them pretty closely since they started looking at this idea – and a few people we know will be moving to LILAC.  I encouraged people to loan money to LILAC – and to do that, if they want to, without taking interest.  But I also encouraged people not to feel bad about expecting a financial return (LILAC are offering up to 3%).  I firmly believe that if we’re going to see more developments like LILAC, we need to encourage people to see them as viable investments – and expecting a 3% return is hardly over the top.  But clearly the people they’re last night with their cheque books were primarily investing because LILAC represents something that they believe in.

But my challenge to the people gathered last night was for us to see LILAC as a catalyst for other good things to happen. It’d be too easy to just point to them and bask in their solar thermal glow, whilst leaving our own lives untouched.  What would be more interesting would be to work with them and to learn from them about ways we too can change how we live.   Ways we can be more green and build communities where we feel supported and feel able to support others.

So, for example, we’re keen to explore whether we can collaborate with LILAC to form buying groups for solar panels – similar to the One Block Off The Grid model in the US.  And Collaborative Consumption – which will work brilliantly in a community such as LILAC – could work just as well in our street or yours – if we make the effort.  And maybe I need to take a bit more of a risk and talk to my neighbours more, invite them round for tea, and go beyond polite hello’s as we pass in the street.

We’re working on these issues a bit at the moment – for example we’re helping to run a Timebanking workshop in early July – which you can sign up for here. We’re also planning a Collaborative Consumption get-together for later in the year. If you’d like to work with us on any of this, please get in touch.

Before all of that, I’ll be investing in LILAC.  It would be great if you could too.

I wrote recently on the Guardian Leeds blog about our local shop closing.

It’s literally next door to our office in the centre of Leeds. We’re a few minutes away from the main shopping centre so it’s a bit of a pain to have to walk that bit further for your milk or your sandwich. And it’s just not nice to see shutters where there was once a nice little shop.

So I sounded people out about a public meeting to discuss the idea of a community owned shop. It’s all the rage – at least on the Archers – and I was keen to see if there would be interest amongst local businesses and residents.

Twenty-five people came to the meeting. We had some good discussion – helped by the fact that the landlord who owns the property came along too. Ian Adderley from Co-operatives Yorkshire and Humber came along to chat about other community owned shops, such as this one in Leeds and this bakery and grocers in Slaithwaite.

I put together a quick survey – which more than 20 people who were there have completed. You can read a summary of the survey’s findings here.

I haven’t studied them in detail yet myself – I haven’t had the time – but I just want to make a few points related to this idea in particular, and the bigger picture, which includes Big Society.

I think it’s interesting how there appear to be two main camps – one interested in a shop (ideally community owned) in the premises vacated by Simpsons – whilst another camp is interested in the broader idea of a “more interesting kind of shop”. There was talk of local suppliers, slow food, a decent bakery, that kind of thing. All made possible by a different form of ownership.

I asked people to define what they were interested in because I think it’s important, from the start, to be clear about people’s self-interest. That sounds like a dirty word, very un-Big Society. It can easily be confused with selfishness. But I think identifying self-interest is key, if people are to find time to make things happen. It’s why I wrote this post – Big Society – or People Like Us?

Whilst I think self-interest needn’t be a bad thing, I think there is a danger that the most capable people end up looking after themselves, whilst those who may need help more take time to get their act together. (If you want confirmation of this, just check out the answers to Question 4 for the list of skills and resources from our bunch of city-livers/workers in the survey).

There may be two sets of self-interest here – one in a local shop in those premises – and another in a shop, somewhere in Leeds, that does things differently. They might overlap, but they may not.

So, here are the survey results. Primarily, I’d be interested in the responses of the people who were at the meeting, or who are interested in this idea – just leave a comment below. But I’d also be keen to hear from other people – with your thoughts on any issues this raises, and what you think we should do next.

At times of crisis it’s tempting to seek out the Big Idea which is going to make everything better.

There are many who believe that social enterprises are inherently better at delivering services to customers. The story goes that the social mission, combined with a lack of external shareholders to service, alongside an enterprising approach will result in happier customers.

It’s a compelling narrative. And I for one do believe that those three factors – clear mission, the absence of shareholders focused on the short-term, and a can-do culture can achieve big things.

But I think we need to be careful not to get too carried away. Social enterprises can have clear missions, can be focussed on customers rather than shareholders, and can develop an enterprising culture – but those three things can’t be taken for granted.

Allow me to indulge in a moan which does, nonetheless, make this point. I have been a happy customer of Yorkshire Building Society for ten years. But this year – as we sold our house and tried to buy another – their service was consistently poor. Without boring you with all the details, their two main errors were that they sent me the deeds for the house we’d just sold, and did the wrong survey on the house we were trying to buy. Our ID also got lost somewhere between our postbox and their mailroom, which may or may not have been their fault. And throughout, their new automated phone system was difficult to navigate, and I often ended up at the wrong department.

I’ve complained, and they’ve said they’re sorry but they won’t consider refunding any of the administration fees I’ve paid. My point is that their service was poor, and I paid fees for that service. I’m now taking it to the Financial Ombudsman, mainly because I’ve got no other option.

I chose Yorkshire because they were competitive – but also because they are a mutual. I tell myself that they’re better, and are likely to give me a better deal, because they don’t have outside shareholders to satisfy. I also think that being a member may be different to being a customer, particularly when things go wrong.

But am I just being naive? This article on Nationwide – another mutual – would suggest that mutuals aren’t immune from some of the customer-unfriendly practices of other shareholder-driven companies. And are we as a society being equally naive in assuming that mutuals and other social enterprises will do a better job than others at delivering services?

I believe fully that they can deliver better services, not that they always do. Obvious really, but as we hunt for ways to get ourselves out of the mess we’re in, I think we’re in danger of putting too much faith in one form of organisational structure.

So here we are. Day one of a Tory – Lib Dem government.

What might this mean for social entrepreneurs, and the world of social business? We are likely to be given opportunities over the next five years to do much more, and to have much more influence over the lives of the people of this country. More public services will be outsourced to social enterprises. More public sector workers will be encouraged to set up social enterprises so that they can sell their services back to the State. Hopefully a new generation of social entrepreneurs will emerge, as people across communities realise that if things are going to change, they are going to have to change them. With big budget cuts, the State is likely to withdraw completely from the delivery of certain services, leaving, in theory, big gaps which social entrepreneurs could fill.

I’ve made no secret on the blog of my scepticism with regards to the Tories’ plans for Big Society. I’ve also explained how growing up in 1980s Liverpool means that I am instinctively hostile towards the Conservatives. Yet I’ve also made the point that one reason that I am involved in social business is that I’m not, and never have been, a party-political animal. My hostility towards the Conservatives has never been balanced by a great enthusiasm for Labour or the Lib Dems. Until the last 6 months, I’ve never really taken much notice of any of them. The financial crisis changed all that.

Here are my thoughts on day 1 of the new Government. I think social entrepreneurs – and I’m thinking in particular of those who deliver services to the public, on behalf of the State, have a great opportunity to make a difference to people’s lives in what are bound to be difficult years. But we need to balance entrepreneurial enthusiasm, and the desire to make a difference, with hard-headed assessments as to whether the “opportunity” in front of us is actually just a get out of jail card for whoever is cutting that particular budget.

All of a sudden public servants who have always believed that the answers lie with them, and them alone, will warmly embrace social entrepreneurs and enthusiastically invite them in to “do things differently”. This could be progress, but it’s not necessarily progress. We need to remember that there can be a big gap between need and demand – and that someone, somewhere, needs to pay for services. This is where the pragmatism of the social entrepreneur may need to overcome the anger and the passion of the social activist. At times there may be no realistic way to deliver a service, if the State isn’t going to fund it. They need to be told that – not given a two year period of grace whilst we try to make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

We also need to manage expectations. It takes time for new approaches to deliver results. At a time when every penny that is taken from us in tax will be closely scrutinised, there will be pressure to promise that we can deliver more, and more quickly, than is realistic. Years of mediocrity can’t suddenly be transformed into 5 star service.

Over the next few years, the real social entrepreneurs, and the real social businesses will emerge from amongst the ranks of the “me-too” organisations. It’s been sexy to be a social enterprise (or to at least call yourself one) since 1997. I don’t think it’ll feel quite so sexy over the next few years – even though it will be more high profile. But if you’re up for it, and if you’re serious about creating social change, then I have no doubt that there will be some once-in-a-lifetime opportunities to really make a difference. But we’ll need to be hard-headed as well as passionate about creating change.

I had an interesting day in Derbyshire on Saturday at an event run by the East Midlands School for Social Entrepreneurs and members of the Transition movement.

I was there to make the case for good marketing. My basic argument is that many of us who think that the world – and business – need to be run differently are pretty sceptical (or even hostile) towards marketing. We also think that it can only be done by big brands with loads of cash, who push unwanted products onto an unsuspecting public. My argument is that it doesn’t have to be like that – and that proper marketing – building relationships with people – can come naturally to social businesses if they just think it through.

The premise of the day was to explore whether a next step for some Transition initiatives could be to set up social enterprises. Let me be clear from the start, I have the kind of knowledge of Transition that you get from reading about it in magazine articles – so I don’t pretend to be an expert. But it does seem to make sense that, after following the twelve steps of Transition, some communities may go on to set up social businesses to help to build a different type of economy.

I’ve written a fair bit in the past about what I see as the differences between social activists and social entrepreneurs. I’d say that the majority of people who were there on Saturday were activists – and I’d guess that that’s pretty typical of the Transition movement.

I’m not saying that activism is not important. It’s vital, and there’s clearly some inspiring stuff happening in Transition initiatives around the country. It’s an idea which has clearly captured people’s imagination. But I would argue that making the next step – if that is to be settting up social enterprises – requires a different mindset.

I’m not suggesting that you need to be some kind of socially enterprising Del-Boy, or have an MBA, to set up a social enterprise. Far from it. But making changes to your own lifestyle – and teaming up with others to do the same – is quite different to setting up businesses which need to sustain themselves through the money they make.

I look at my own background for evidence of this. I never thought I’d get involved in business – not even social business – because I thought business was for fat-cat capitalists. I couldn’t understand how anyone who wanted to change the world could also find motivation in making money. Even if that money was ultimately used to do more good.

I was hostile towards business. There was a lot of that hostility – understandably – in Belper on Saturday. But to run a social enterprise I think you have to accept that things aren’t so black and white. That sometimes you have to compromise, or be pragmatic, or take decisions which might not sit totally comfortably with your value base. You might have to do deals with other businesses which traditionally you’ve seen as the enemy. This might mean you fall out with those who believe in the simple rights and wrongs of capitalism.

On a practical level it also involves different skills. And I believe that these skills can be learnt, but it takes time. This is a point relevant to the whole debate about Big Society. Phillip Blond wrote a letter to the Observer on Sunday expressing how he is puzzled by the hostility of people like me towards Big Society. (By the way, I’d be grateful if anyone can point me to the evidence for Blond’s assertion that volunteering has doubled in the last few months.)

One reason I’m sceptical is that I believe that it will take time for communities to develop the skills and build up the experience to run lots of services themselves. I do believe that, in the long term, it’s the right direction to be travelling in. But I have done this work for long enough to know that the road to better services is littered with painful, expensive examples of initiatives which haven’t worked. Because, sometimes, people got it wrong, because they were still learning how to run things themselves. And, I would suggest, the people who need better services most are the ones who may take a bit longer to get organised and get things right. Blond and Cameron will suggest I’m being patronising. I think I’m being realistic.

It may be that the Transition entrepreneurs were busy doing other things on Saturday – like traveling to the course on how to set up your own community supported bakery, run by the inspiring Handmade Bakery in the Transition hotspot of Slaithwaite. Either way, I think it’s worth us reflecting on the differences between what it takes to form a movement for change, and to run a business, so that we can continue to do the former, whilst also doing more of the latter.

I've been enjoying witnessing the Co-operative Labour movement making it abundantly clear that they are the real co-operators over the last couple of days, since the Tory announcement of their plans to encourage co-operatives and social enterprises to deliver public services.

I sent my previous piece on this via Twitter to Phillip Blond, the architect of the Tory plans.  Here's his reply:

Thanks – will read and study.  But surely just a negative reaction is wrong and a misaligned reflex.  This is a social good. 

This is a social good.  Blond clearly doesn't lack confidence. 

First things first, I haven't really read any of his work in any detail, or read the detail of the Tory co-op plans.  I will do as soon as I've moved house and unpacked the boxes in ten days time.  But I've kept an eye on what he's been saying in the newspapers and elsewhere.

Secondly, I think it is a fairly negative piece, so I take his point.  And that's a fault of mine – I try hard to write positive stories, and to be constructive, but I know that I can dwell on the negative sometimes.  But show me a writer who doesn't.  It's easy writing.  And there are downsides to be told in a social enterprise sector which sometimes only tells the good stories.  And I enjoy having a go at George Osborne. 

Yet I'm interested in Blond and his Red Tory ideas.   I'm also intrigued by his background.  Like me, he grew up in 1980s Liverpool and he says the impact of Thatcherism on the city has been a big influence on his life and work.  I'd say the same.   I can see how to this day Thatcher's policies – and the Militant response – did a lot of damage to my home city, and that legacy is still with us.

But I can't help but question the claim:  this is a social good.  Says who?  Who's to say that opening up the market for public services to social enterprises won't create a massive amount of damage to a fragile, skint society?  Or that the real impact of opening up to social enterprises will be to create a market in which the private sector will eventually dominate, thus (potentially) further alienating local communities?  Or that the undoubted social good that will come from the many great social enterprises that will deliver services will be counterbalanced by the regular bailouts of the ones that fail?

Let me finish on a positive.  I, like many other people, see the damage that poor public services do to individuals and communities.  I also believe that we need socially enterprising approaches to changing society – and some of those will come in the form of social enterprises.  So, I'm going to try hard to be constructive, as well as critical, in the debate about mutuality and public services.  I hope the people who seem to only see the upside of these proposals – who see them as a clear social good, might also peer over at the slightly less green grass on my side of the fence. 

George Osborne was on the Today programme this morning talking about Tory plans to open up the delivery of public services to social enterprises  - in particular, it seems, to co-operatives.  I assume Steve Hilton has decided that we're not awake enough to understand what a social enterprise is at 7.10am (he's probably not wrong), so he instructed him to just keep saying the word co-operative as often as he could in three minutes.  It is a lovely word after all.

I have written a lot about how public services need to improve.  I am also an enthusiast for socially enterprising approaches to delivering services.  But I'm suspicious of political enthusiasm for social enterprise.  In this case I'm picking on the Tories, because I find them (and Osborne in particular) unconvincing, but I'm pretty sceptical about Labour's motives in this field too.  

There's something of the four legs good, two legs bad dogma about politicians embracing social enterprise. They are so desperate (as they should be) to work out ways to make the UK a better place to live that they can end up believing that transferring services to social enterprises will magically make things better. They can definitely make a big difference if the social enterprise is good at what it does.  But they are not inherently better at doing things than other organisations or businesses.

I also have a question about the likely capacity for social enterprises to deliver services.  I know all the stats about how the sector is expanding, but I'm also aware that not everyone is cut out to be an active member of an employee-owned business, of the kind Osborne is proposing.  I'd be a rich man if I had a pound for every public sector employee who's told me that they're hatching plans to set up in business, to break free from the dead hand of bureacracy.  I'd have about £3 if I had a pound for every one that's done it.  Osborne said this morning that services will only be transferred to co-operatives if that's what staff want.  I think that, sadly perhaps, is a big if.  

So, if I'm right, and the public sector won't be transformed by hordes of public sector workers all desperate to set up co-operatives, how will we find different ways to deliver services?  Enter the private sector – particularly if the Tories get into power.  I suggest that politicians will keep talking about the opportunities for social enterprises, pointing us to that lovely social enterprise which collects bulky waste in Liverpool, whilst plenty of the opportunities will actually be gobbled up by the private sector, who will soon speak the language of social responsibility with more fluency than your average social entrepreneur.  

I do think that will happen more quickly if the Tories get in.  Read for example this account of a recent Politics Show about Michael Gove's Free School plans.  They interviewed Tory MP Tim Yeo, who made it clear that he thought that the Free School plans were flawed – not because schools should not be independent, but because the organisations that will run them won't be allowed to make a profit.  One rogue Tory does not a party make, but I very much doubt that Yeo is alone.  

Gove wouldn't dare allow idea of private-sector-run Free Schools to get in front of voters.  But two years into a Tory government, with restless right-wing backbenchers giving Cameron grief, you can well imagine that things might change.  Co-operatives'  real value to Osborne and his colleagues may be to clear the way for further privatisation of public services.  

It's always interesting to confront people with their worst nightmare early on a Saturday morning.  

I ran a marketing workshop on Saturday on behalf of the Soil Association, for a group of Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) projects.  I'm a big fan of the CSA approach – the main idea being that local people share some of the risk with the grower by paying up front, in return for a regular share of the harvest over that year.  I was a member of a CSA at Swillington Farm – and they've also recently set up a CSA arrangement (to rear a pig) with Salvo's –  a local Italian restaurant which you may recently have seen on Gordon Ramsey's F Word.  There are plenty more businesses which have adopted the model – including a Community Supported Bakery which I wrote about here.

The marketing workshop was themed around the title – Grow it – and they might not come.  This in turn was inspired by the Kevin Costner film Field of Dreams – in which rookie farmer Ray Kinsella hears a voice which tells him to build a baseball pitch in his field.  The voice tells him "If you build it, he will come" – and sure enough the ghost of Shoeless Joe Jackson and seven other Chicago White Sox players turn up to play on his field.

As you can imagine people thought Ray was nuts.  People who want to set up CSAs sometimes meet with a similar response.  Getting people to pay up front to buy veg from you – when all that currently exists is a sketch of your planting plan and a seed catalogue – can be a challenge.  That's where an effective marketing plan can help.

A do-able marketing plan for your CSA

View more presentations from robg.

I talk about marketing as building relationships with customers.  This concept sits well with CSAs.  You need to build relationships if people are to trust that you will grow food for them.  I take people through my step-by-step plan – which requires you to think carefully about your business – and in particular your customers – but doesn't require you to have any formal marketing background.  

During the workshop we split into groups and each group creates a plan – using an innovation which, even if I say so myself, I'm very proud of – upcycled wallpaper – used in place of flipchart paper.  £2 spent in Oxfam has to be better than £10 spent in Staples, surely?

Aside from the eco-benefits (which won me early greenie points with my organic audience), I'm a big believer in thinking sideways along a page, rather than down a page.  There is something about a portrait flipchart which makes you anxious – you get to the bottom of a page and you start losing the will to live – because the stuff at the bottom feels weighed down by what's gone before (and you're now kneeling on the floor, writing like a four year old).  You're also wondering whether to squeeze a few more words on – or start a new page.   Whereas, with a roll of Upcycled Wallpaper  Flipchart ^TM you can keep on writing – and keep referring back, drawing lines where there are connections, etc etc.

The risk I take with this workshop is that I spend very little time talking about the things that some people expect me to talk about.  Some people want clear guidance – a top ten of the best ways to market your business – that kind of thing.  I don't believe in that stuff.  As my Iced Tea slide suggests, what works in one place doesn't necessarily work in another.  That's why I talk people through what they need to think about – so that they can then make their best judgement about what it's best to do.  That way, you also start thinking about ways to market your business which don't cost a great deal of money.

My four year old son was a bit confused on Saturday morning, given that I was going to work.  He asked me what I was doing.  I told him I was running a workshop.  

"Is it like Santa's workshop?"  he asked.   

"Son", I said, "Today I will give people a gift greater than any that Santa could give.  A do-able marketing plan."  He looked at me a bit confused, and carried on eating his breakfast.    

Well, it was ten years ago yesterday in fact, but even I tend not to blog on a Sunday, although I do tweet.

22nd November 1999 was the day that the fair trade shop where I cut my socially entrepreneurial teeth opened in its shiny new high-street premises.

We'd previously been hidden in the basement of a Christian bookshop – the kind of location that you'll find many a fair trade shop to this day.  We – with some justification – felt we were at the vanguard of the fair trade movement – taking it from the margins to the mainstream (I can well imagine that my press release used that very phrase).

It was all very exciting.  We had a party in the shop on the opening night for customers, members (500 local people had invested in the co-op) and suppliers, with gallons of organic wine supplied by Leeds-based Vinceremos.  I can honestly say that that night was one of the proudest nights of my life.  To get that far we had achieved so much, and it was incredible to see so many people there to celebrate it with us.  It was a bit like getting married, but with the tills running.

Five years later it was all over.  This was what greeted me the day after we closed in 2004:

The signage from the shop, (which cost a small fortune) hacked down and thrown to the floor by the organic retailer that we'd invited in to take over our lease. (I'm not suggesting they shouldn't have done that – it was just a brutal image for 10am on a Sunday morning).  

It's a story I've told in parts before – but we basically couldn't make it pay – and eventually we went into administration.  From £250k a year sales of fair trade goods to nothing.  

We all have stories, events in our lives which shape us.  Trade for Change is one of my stories.  I learnt so much during my seven years there – as a volunteer, shop worker, board member, treasurer, and ultimately one of the people who sat at the table with the creditors to work out a deal to save the business.

It's why I am how I am.  I'm a great enthusiast for finding entrepreneurial ways to change society.  But I can't stand some of the nonesense that surrounds the social enterprise movement – the hype, the spin, the cosy consensus that appears to exist amongst many with influence in the sector.

It's why my to do-list for the blog this week involves reading the Coalition's new research about the state of the social enterprise sector, and finding out more about the failure of Secure, a social enterprise which was set up to deliver prison health services and which has now gone bust.  I don't deliberately seek to find fault, to be cynical, or to point the finger.  But if we are to really change society, we need to celebrate successes, but also learn from things when they go wrong, and challenge some of the exuberance.