One year after the UK voted to leave the European Union, I wrote a short piece for this magazine called ‘The Cult of Innovation’. It argued that a disproportionate fixation on sexy, shiny social innovation had come to distract us from more mundane, critical maintenance work in the social economy. I wondered if popular sentiment towards, say, Brexit in the UK or Trump in the US might have run differently if self-styled social innovators had been less excited about disruptive intangibles, digital wearables, and playable edibles, and paid more attention to material economic circumstances and everyday lives. I asked whether the social innovation industry should be more rooted in communities, supporting models built around fairness and those who have fallen between the cracks, which bridge divides and build mutual understanding.
Since then, Trump and Brexit have given way to Trump 2 and the rise of the populist right in many countries (not to mention a global pandemic and war in Europe and beyond). Elite panic has set in amongst liberal commentators, journalists, and think-tankers, now fretting about the collapse of trust in institutions and politics, and the breakdown of social cohesion.
Innovation to imagination
What has happened to social innovation? Of course, innovation-speak hasn’t gone away. But perhaps the successors to the innovators are the imagineers: a group of thinkers and strategists loosely linked to the Joseph Rowntree Foundation’s Emerging Futures programme. In refreshing contrast to the innovators, their agenda is explicitly taking on wealth and power, and deeply critical of capitalism and imperialism. It links to real co-operatives and social enterprises working in tough contexts, and seeks to redirect capital and wealth in the service of people and the planet.
But in its ambition to confront root causes and explore radical transformations, this movement – by its own admission – runs the risk of decoupling from everyday life. As Cassie Robinson from JRF asks, “What happens when we untether ourselves from ‘reality’ as it is now, step into the unknown, and then take a step beyond, into the unimaginable?” A new language of mycelium, emergence, and scaffolding, of ‘perpetual refiguring’ and ‘more-than-humans’ draws from and blends the semantic and intellectual heritage of radical US Black feminism, ancient indigenous philosophy, and systems thinking. For some of us, this new language is eye-opening and fascinating. For others, it’s eyebrow-raising, baffling, and seemingly disconnected from the quotidian life of Red Wall or Left Behind areas in the UK. It’s not for everyone. Until better “translations” of imagineer thinking become available, it is difficult to see this movement taking hold beyond a handful of philanthropy-funded projects and provocations.
The rise of social infrastructure
So where else can we see potential civil society responses to rising political disillusionment and social fragmentation? Since 2017, we have seen a significant uptick in a focus on social infrastructure, championed by the likes of Local Trust, the British Academy, the Bennett Institute, former Bank of England chief economist, Andy Haldane, and nudge guru, David Halpern. Here, the basic argument is that we need places and spaces to meet, connect, socialise, and co-operate in order to foster the social relationships that allow communities to function.
Social infrastructure comes in many forms. My research for Local Trust, Skittled Out, focused on the alarming closure of youth centres, playgrounds, pubs, and more. Yet as these places have closed, new social spaces have emerged – skate parks, climbing walls, gyms, mosques, soft play centres, Multi Use Games Areas (MUGAs), and taprooms – not to mention digital spaces. Each has unique value and flaws, but research shows that healthy social infrastructure makes a big difference to communities and neighbourhoods.
Today, social infrastructure is championed by government strategies and ministerial speeches, in New Towns planning guidance and placemaking strategies (to the point where some even fear it’s becoming overhyped). There are even new research and advisory practices popping up to offer their services in the field – this is popular territory.
This brings the risk that the policy and practice of social infrastructure will be drawn towards the new and shiny, on eye-catching placemaking interventions, major cultural landmarks, and large-scale regeneration – the stuff of social innovation. We risk overlooking the quiet, underappreciated forms of grassroots social infrastructure and simple forms of associational life that rarely appear in architects’ drawings, and are near-invisible as policy objects, but are widespread in many of the communities which the commentariat are most concerned about. These mundane practices of maintaining our social fabric are a far cry from the innovators’ fondness for scaling up, design thinking, and catapults, and are indeed perhaps very real examples of what the imagineers mean when they talk about relationships, ‘community weaving’, and belonging.
The Centre for Democratic Business recently shone a spotlight on one set of these often-forgotten institutions – social clubs. In Social Clubs, Community Power, and Political Participation, Jonny Gordon-Farleigh and Oliver Holtaway (disclosure: my fellow co-founder at Popular) explore the historical and contemporary role of social clubs in British civil society. They identify how these member-led, not-for-profit institutions have provided not only recreational spaces for their members, but also opportunities for political education and civic engagement. They highlight their importance to the development of working-class communities and mass democracy, as they served as spaces for political debate, associational life, and economic mutualism. Jonny and Oliver make the case that everyday, face-to-face venues which are rooted in communities are essential for building local trust and civic capacity for relationship and community building, and political engagement.
Grassroots sports clubs
This work also serves to remind us of other similar, democratic, member-led organisations which exist in nearly every community. More or less every town and even village in the country has grassroots sports clubs, used by men, women, and children. Perhaps football or cricket, tennis or rugby, badminton, or bowls. These are membership organisations. Often they are co-operatives. Sometimes they are registered as a Community Amateur Sports Club (which must be open to the whole community and have affordable membership fees) or a charity. Many are Community Interest Companies. Collectively, they constitute an unheralded and important part of daily, ordinary democratic life, a forgotten corner of the social infrastructure jigsaw.
These are everyday, grounded, face-to-face places for community building, for making connections across divides, which build local trust and civic pride. The local youth football club may be the first place you’ve spoken to a Ukrainian family, for example, or Afghan refugees at the cricket club. Or even just someone who lives on the other side of the tracks. They are often used by a range of other community groups – a platform for civic life, without either an innovator or imagineer in sight.
Of course they may also have numerous flaws and weaknesses in terms of fulfilling their potential as democratic social infrastructure. Many members barely engage or participate in their organisation, running, or decision-making – they just pay their subs, shout at their kids (or the ref), and go home. Some may be dominated by a chairman who has run a dictatorship for 30 years, or have a never-ending succession of interim chairs. AGMs may be poorly attended until something goes wrong.
Strengthening the grassroots
How could this particular breed of social infrastructure be strengthened? Could these clubs be more democratic and engaging? Do they – or could they – play a similar role that social clubs have played at their best? Could they foster greater economic mutualism – through cheaper fees for those who struggle to afford kit or subs? Could this also be combined with environmental action through second-hand boot exchange, which reduces landfill as well as saving money and building solidarity? Could they install solar energy, reducing costs and saving carbon emissions? Could they even open up more opportunities for political education and debate, civic engagement, become themselves the training grounds not only for sport but for democratic life?
Many grassroots clubs will be all too aware of how our climate is changing – thanks to flooded pitches or matches played during heatwaves. More support is being made available to help them to take climate action – through national bodies like Sport England’s Movement Fund, and locally through projects like Sport For Good in West Yorkshire. Through initiatives like these, clubs are being supported to take actions that cut carbon emissions, whilst also bringing wider social benefits.
Those of us working on democratic social infrastructure could further help strengthen these clubs: by making the case to politicians, as Jonny and Oliver have been doing with social clubs, and helping them to modernise their facilities, broaden their membership, improve their governance, and strengthen their financial viability.
This short article is intended as a flag in the sand, in relatively unmapped territory. At Popular, we are exploring further research in this space, practical work, case studies, and workshops. Can we strengthen a crucial corner of the critical democratic social infrastructure we already have? From the grassroots! ∞
Dan Gregory is co-founder of Popular, a social infrastructure research and advisory practice, and Associate Director at Social Enterprise UK.
