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This article was first published in The Stornoway Gazette.
I’ve just come back from the House of Lords. No, I’ve not been “Michelle Mone-d” and given my marching orders from the chamber of red benches, but instead, had been invited to a reception for the New Philanthropy Capital (NPC) think tank. It works in the charity and social sector, bridging any gaps between charities, foundations, philanthropists, impact investors (see last week’s column), businesses and the public sector to “maximise impact in the lives of the people they serve.”
We heard speeches from Baroness Young of Old Scone who was hosting us in The River Room; also Orlando Fraser who is the fairly recently appointed Charity Commission Chair which regulates the sector; and finally Dan Corry, the Chief Executive of NPC. I suppose the overall message may not surprise you: the cost of living crisis means people who are in need, need more; that those who have never found themselves in need before, find themselves in need; and that those who have, historically, been best placed to offer and support the work of charities and others are now cutting back on donations to make way for paying their heating bills. It’s a bleak picture. Orlando did highlight some superstar celebrity donors, which is valid, but not everyone can lump tens of millions of pounds into the charity sector in one fell swoop.
One notable part of Dan Corry’s speech was to highlight that, for charities and those with whom they work, the cost of living crisis will be worse than the pandemic. He worried that the stark message of need during the pandemic had actually overshot the mark, to the point that any similar message for our current crisis will go unnoticed. Food for thought.
The way in for guests to the Lords is not as spectacular as you might think. I stood for about 15 minutes in the icy cold airport-security style line for Black Rod’s Entrance, before ending up in, what appeared to be, a holding room. This made sense, I thought: I’ll need to be escorted onwards to the actual venue. After a few minutes in this stuffy square space with an old TV in the corner, though, I noticed others with similar-looking invitations to mine were showing initiative and getting out of there, like a peer accused of using their status to benefit people and companies with which they have personal connections - gone. Inspired by a flock in the croft, I followed suit, only to end up outside under a grand archway, but - and let’s not dress it up - in a car park. Here I found another group of people huddled in the cold, pea-soup-frostiness of London. This was far from ideal - canapés were waiting to be devoured. Through the crowd, I spotted a security man, who directed me across the glamorous concrete - past a Range Rover - into the reception area of The River Room. Phew.
After the speeches, a few of us were chatting about what we’d heard and what may happen next for charities and charitable giving. It strikes me that selfishness is on the rise (wasn’t it ever thus?). People of my generation are very protective of themselves. This is healthy - a lot healthier, in some ways, than the past - but there must be a limit. While we must look after ourselves and our health and our mental health, there is an overall encouragement to push back on anything that even slightly infringes upon one’s own tranquillity, easiness-of-life, choice of attitude towards work, and copious other things. I see it every day on Instagram and TikTok - selfishness, disguised as “wellbeing.” There are suggestions that we should even resist a friend coming to us in their time of need - so-called “trauma dumping” - if we feel we do not have the mental capacity to deal with their problems as well as ours. But, that’s why I’m friends with them. I’m here to listen. I don’t understand why I would suddenly withdraw my friendship on the basis that I can’t even afford time to listen. It doesn’t quite add up.
I fear this permeates other areas of life too: “Sorry, that problem infringes on my happiness (another concept we’ve warped, thanks to social media) in a way and to an extent with which I am not content. Therefore, I withdraw myself from having anything to do with it. Goodbye.” This could be our response to charitable giving, to people sleeping rough, or could even be a response to being asked to fulfil a contractual obligation at work or a chore at home.
I was glad to accept the invitation to the reception. Charity is a fascinating area. Plus, if Gordon Brown has his way, the House of Lords might not be there for much longer. Sir Keir Starmer reckons it’s time for a change. He’s not the first to suggest it. Will he be the first to implement it? That’s probably a topic for another column another day. But, as a matter of principle, it was nice to be there, on the inside of a grand institution, whatever its flaws. On which note, something else about which I wish to Mone - I can confirm that, despite the time of year, I did not see “ten-Lords-a-leaping,” although, to be fair, the drinking terrace was covered over by tents so who knows what was going on down there. What a disappointment.