My grandfather collected things. Not fine art, rare coins or stamps, just things. Too young to fight in the first world war and too old to fight in the second, he knew that austerity and hardship were never far away. Rather than throw things away, he kept them in a large wooden chest, just in case.
When he died, the chest moved to my father's shed. Too sentimental to clear it out and too practical to add to its stock, it became a kind of time capsule. As a child I explored its contents frequently, marvelling at the broken tools, Bakelite light fittings and the large lead plumb on the end of a piece of string.
I use the spirit level, and have often found just the bolt or bracket I need, half buried in the dust and rust at the bottom of the chest. Now it lives in my shed and although the need to plug the iron into the light fitting has long passed, those relics of pre-war Britain will remain proud possessions until time with me is no more.
You see it's only in the second half of the last century that we stopped being human magpies. Stopped saving things to mend, make do or, to be honest, bodge. Yet now, as we battle with the 'big reality' of slow economic growth, rising demand for health and social services, being a magpie is once again no bad thing.
And magpie behaviour extends beyond material things. I, and I'm sure other human magpies also collect people. Just as most people graze their networks and move on, I have always made a point of keeping in touch with folk. Making time to share, comment or suggest things I've encountered that might be useful to them.
Last week, I met another human magpie. Tony Rich of Lewisham-based Rich Consulting was speaking at a ClearlySo event hosted by the Guardian social enterprise network. The morning's debate was 'how can social and community enterprise access public sector assets'. I listened with some fascination, and no small degree of self-recognition, as Tony Rich described how he'd managed expectations, made introductions and painted a clear picture of what could be, so that those less able to visualise saw in an instant the benefits of what he was suggesting: a community owned and managed library.
Keynote speaker Tim Byles is a man whose ingenuity I've admired for years. I first knew him as chief executive of Norfolk County Council, where he created and then shared a vision for economic and social prosperity, named in 'Shaping Norfolk's Future', then delegated responsibility, sector by sector, to leaders in each sector. He outsourced the challenges and his organisation nurtured the ideas that germinated in the minds of those best placed to drive economic development: entrepreneurs.
It was no surprise then to learn that, after a few years running funding agency 'Partnerships for Schools', Tim should emerge from a period of political turbulence as a born-again social entrepreneur. His new organisation Cornerstone is a mutual, in part owned by its employees. A magpie himself, Tim has build Cornerstone to connect together quite different strands of his personal network, to the benefit of all.
You see, Cornerstone is a remarkably clever idea. Council leaders know and trust Tim and will willingly explore with him the notion of doing something creative with the £7bn worth of redundant real estate in council ownership. His network of developers can improve the properties, making them suitable for a wide range of contemporary community uses. Then we, the community, can take them on, leasing them in a way that repays the developer, enables councils to retain and even boost balance sheet valuations and empty community buildings to start meeting urgent local need.
Of course, the council which owns the asset have to want to play ball. I have a couple of clients wishing to acquire the council premises from which they operate, and thus far, the suggestion that they transfer the freehold has not been met with enthusiasm. Here is a way that everyone can win, with the honest broker being a respected former member of the council clan.
But as with any complex community reaction, nothing will happen without a catalyst to spark the debate, allay the concerns and paint that very clear picture of what could be. Those catalysts are few and far between; human magpies who collect people, can cross-cut a challenge and pull the missing link out of their hat. It's a skill I've learned from exploring my grandfather's chest and right now it's paying handsome dividends as I bring people together to so that things can happen. Tim Byles is that catalyst at a macro-level, but for your community organisation and council to see the opportunity, you need someone able to work at grassroots level too. Then the change you want to see can become possible.
Robert Ashton is a social entrepreneur, business author and Big Society troubleshooter
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