For many voluntary organisations, the idea of closing down projects, abandoning long established working practices and relocating staff is a sign of failure. In short, they are reluctant to take tough decisions that would be considered commonplace in the business world. But a supported housing association in the Midlands believes not to do so is a disservice to those it seeks to help.
With market forces now unleashed in the field of social care, voluntary agencies can ill afford old-style working practices based on a philosophy of "if it ain't bust, don't fix it". Yet in the 1990s, Rob Taylor admits, he typified that approach. As operations director of Adullam Homes, he struggled for five years to keep afloat a flagship residential drugs project until he was finally forced to close it down. He describes it as one of the most difficult decisions he has had to make in his 18-year career in the voluntary sector.
That was three years ago. Since then, Taylor, now chief executive of Adullam, has opened and closed other schemes as the Christian-based association has adapted social rehabilitation projects in response to cuts in budgets and the changing needs of users. It now provides housing with support for more than 700 vulnerable people in the Midlands, the north-west, Shropshire and Merseyside. Among them are ex-offenders, drug users, young care-leavers and people with learning disabilities, mental health problems and HIV.
"Too many charities are paying lip service to market forces and are running projects that no longer meet the community's needs," says Taylor, who admits it took Adullam seven years to embrace the corporate culture. "We are in a new reality. Contracts can be won and lost, and the needs of clients change all the time."
He says Adullam's ethos has always been to provide a resident-focused service, with individual support packages designed to minimise the risk of people regressing into former patterns once they have left the scheme. But he adds: "We have learnt that where projects are faced with diffi culties that may undermine the association's standards for housing and support, we are prepared to close a scheme and seek alternatives that will better serve the community."
Such decisions can cause major heartache. Closing the drugs project in Nottingham was particularly difficult, as it had been launched in a blaze of publicity.
The former farm on the outskirts of the city catered for men, women and their families. It was the only project of its kind in the area. Yet it never had enough referrals from the local health authority. Differences in approach to treatment - the health authority favouring the 12-step technique, while Adullam embraced a range of programmes - did not help matters. On top of this, health officials considered the 12-month treatment programme too long.
Cutbacks were made and the project, which was trying to help the most hardened addicts, was scaled down. Instead of offering a 12-month detoxification programme, the unit moved to a six-month course of treatment. However, cuts to grant money - combined with a shortage of staff of the right calibre - eventually led to the project's closure.
Taylor says: "Psychologically, it was very hard closing the project, even though we lost £250,000 in the time it was open.There were lots of emotional ties to it."
Lessons were learned from the closure, which resulted in the setting up of a formal review process for all Adullam projects every two years. At the same time, clients, staff, funders and referring agencies are asked for their views.
Examples of this more ruthless and realistic approach are recent decisions to pull out of projects in Rugby and Wolverhampton. These schemes provided beds for people rejected by other agencies because of their instability and personal difficulties.
National lottery money was used to build the hostel in Rugby, which was to be managed by Adullam. But problems began shortly after opening, when the local authority refused to pay the rent levels needed to staff the unit effectively.
Colin Heath, the association's regional manager, recalls: "The project was only open for two months when we decided to pull out. On the one hand, we had people expecting us to deliver a service; on the other, we had staff stressed out trying to manage it. The council believed it needed staffing between 9am and 5pm. But staff were saying they needed 24-hour cover because the people in the hostel were so vulnerable. If they left the building for any length of time, there was a risk it would be burnt down."
Adullam withdrew from the project and handed it over to the housing corporation. The project remains open, under new management, but it no longer takes people with such challenging behaviour.
Concerns about inadequate staffing levels lay behind last year's closure of a 24-hour direct access project in Wolverhampton. Set up nine years ago, it was targeted at young people aged 16-25 with drug-related problems, ex-offending backgrounds and mental health needs. Staff gave clients practical help in setting up home, getting jobs, handling crises and maintaining physical and mental health.
Over the years, the project was supported by grants from the Department of the Environment, Transport and the Regions and various trusts. However, when these dried up there was an annual shortfall of £60,000. Clients had also become more challenging and the hostel demanded intensive management. As at Rugby two years earlier, understaffing became a problem, exposing workers to unnecessary risk.
"We had staff saying they were working under siege," says Heath. "There weren't enough of them to prevent the frequent damage to the interior, with residents daubing graffiti on the walls, letting off fire extinguishers and kicking in the doors. Windows were being broken by people from the local community who were having a go at people on the pro ject. The stress was such that the project manager had to take three months off sick."
As yet another attempt to find alternative funding failed, it was decided to close the shelter.
This readiness to embrace change and, if necessary, shut down projects that threaten to undermine the association's standards, has made Adullam a leading player in social rehabilitation. Its workforce has grown from 40 to more than 200 over the past three decades and it has won private finance, enabling it to expand further.
Taylor believes the secret is simple, and urges others to remember the croquet game in Alice in Wonderland, where the rules altered all the time. "We have to stay flexible, have more creative manoeuvring and develop closer partnerships with stakeholders than ever before," he says. "Received wisdom has been that, in business, efficiency and innovation cancel each other out. The challenge is to show they can co-exist. It is a lesson the voluntary sector would do well to learn."
Questions of priorities
Adullam's two-yearly reviews of all its projects are carried out against an audit checklist of the association's published standards for housing and support. Even reviews of successful schemes often lead to a refocusing of the work.
This has been the case with AdCare, a Birmingham-based specialist project set up in 1990, providing more than 50 flats, houses and bungalows sensitive to the needs of men, women and children living with HIV.
Changes in drug treatment, with the introduction of new combination therapies, has led to a switch from a counselling-based service, helping people prepare for a dignified death, to one that examines new work opportunities and offers specialist benefits advice. Help is also given to ensure compliance with the new combination drugs which must be taken at the right time in order to be effective.
The changes followed a questionnaire of clients using AdCare. Many said they were no longer in need of a "high care" service, which offered 24-hour support. Instead, they wanted practical advice to help them get on with their lives.
The accommodation built for the project is scattered across the community. Adullam has deliberately avoided installing disability aids, such as bath hoists, for fear it creates a negative image based on an assumption that clients will inevitably become more unwell. Instead, the accommodation can be adapted as necessary.
