If 400,000 groups, causes and charities could consciously generate social capital, says Mike Riddell, a "caravan of love" would start

From Mike Riddell - “a token of value”

We’re pleased to find this essay from Mike Riddell, the indefatigable innovator of social currencies and “regeneration practitioner working in Stoke and North Staffs operating in the North of England” (our coverage of Mike is here). Borne out of much direct experience, Mike is writing about “The Business of Community”, based on his strong understanding of the worth of social capital. He begins with a clear example:

Social capital is two things at once.

It’s firstly an input. A resource that is processed to add value. For instance, if Little Johnny is a lost and lonely unemployed youngster, the act of volunteering his time to community rather than wasting it, is a process that adds value.

His time is the resource and community the process. Put the two together and value is added. They have formed social capital.

Secondly, it’s an outcome because Little Johnny has performed work and as a result the economy is slightly more developed than it was before, and who knows, maybe there is less crime on the street?

But the results of this work get taken for granted. Little Johnny’s time is a perishable commodity, which if not put to work is an opportunity gone begging. The cost is intangible because nobody counts it yet the economy has produced less, and wasted more.

If time is both perishable and a resource, and if a contribution of that time can reduce crime and develop the economy, then why are we wasting it?

Why are we not doing more to track, measure and manage a process that could as I argue, waste less and make more?

Mike goes on to make his standard point strongly - which is that local economies have lots of capacity to generate and use this social capital:

Local economies are full of underused resources. Quiet times at the tattoo parlour, the barbers or the physio, and everyone who provides some sort of local service such as will-writers, copy-writers, accountants and web designers. They all have quiet times. That drags on their business.

By focusing on the cost of their assets not being worked hard enough, and by recognising that these resources are time-bound, valuable and perishable, an opportunity begins to emerge to unlock this stored value before it perishes.

AirBnB have shown us how an under-used spare room can be transformed into a new revenue source for its owner and an individualised experience for their guests. Airbnb have never turned a sheet in their lives, yet they are disinter-mediating the hotel trade.

Imagine a localised business network where voluntary groups and business service providers could combine their surplus assets and idling resources to build community, unlock stored value and generate recurring and predictable revenues?

Mike goes on to suggest an economic vision for community groups: there needs to be ambitions for regulations and standardisations in the sector, that could build a “caravan of love” out of underused assets:

As a volunteer myself in the Cultural Squatters, Sunshine House in Wigan and now in Burslem, I know for a fact that youngsters without work would love to be valued for what they could do rather than feeling judged for what they couldn’t. Together, we enjoyed the experience of connecting, the sense of belonging, the doing of good and the making a difference.

But most voluntary experiences do not pan out like this and more organisations are too bound up in red tape and risk mitigation to curate experiences that capture imaginations.

There is plenty of waste in our system and by tasking our volunteers with the job of eliminating it, we can turn cause-related marketing into a smorgasbord of immersive action projects activities that the business community can support with the stuff that they waste — their excess stock and spare capacity.

The markets want mindful, not mindless, consumers. What we have is a gap in the market and the opportunity to produce a range of goods, services and lifestyle experiences that help ordinary people become more mindful.

It’s a process of manufacturing that begins by measuring the opportunity cost.

The best bit is that the building blocks for this manufacturing process to begin in earnest are already in place. By my estimation (because there is very little data) there are some 350,000–400,000 community groups, good causes and small charities that exist in the UK.

Nearly all of them rely on government-funded hand-outs or the National Lottery. This is a world in which enterprise doesn’t really exist, but it could.

To discover for yourself just how much those at the top value these frontline organisations, Google: “how many community groups are there in the uk”.

The top return is from the Office for National Statistics, but there isn’t an answer and I don’t know why not.

These organisations serve their members and are more trusted than government or business. The residents supported by Sunshine House Community Centre trust Barbara Nettleton to act in their best interests at all times, so she does. This trust then is the value of places like hers. Community Centres that serve vulnerable people, is a valuable place indeed.

But how does Sunshine House benefit? How can Sunshine House leverage this trust to bring in money? It can’t. Her members might value their membership and service, but the size of her membership is too small for any brand or corporate to invest a lot of time or money on such a relatively small number of people. They always want big.

All around the country are similar sized community groups with similar sized problems. Some 400,000 of them. Consolidate their numbers into a membership network, and what we then have is a population worth talking about.

With a some enterprise support to systemise their operations and begin the commercialisation process, they appear to me to be very well placed to host and curate a range of immersive and dare I say it, game-like experiences that inspire people of all ages to participate in the quest to eliminate the invisible waste, that holds back our economy.

They really don’t need to do much differently. They already support vulnerable people, they already have a network and they probably already have a place.

By making a song and dance about the individual contributions that each of our communities make to the common good, we can turn community into a business that serve and protect the collective interest of its members .

A touch of regularisation here, a dash of standardisation there, and before long a caravan of love is whistling into work. The opportunity for our unpaid workers (sorry, volunteers) to commercialise the value of their social capital, is right around the corner.

By hosting and curating a range of experiences that incentivise collective action; by measuring the results they produce; and by showcasing the results for the purposes of digital distribution, we can systematically improve performance.

And by celebrating our results, we can develop a new generation of super-citizens who use their socials to show the rest of the world what good really looks like.

More here, and here’s Mike’s Medium account.