果冻影院

This interview appears in聽the latest edition of the聽果冻影院 Policy Lab magazine. To find out more about Policy Lab and get the latest news events, sign up for their newsletter聽.听

This summer, the American聽rock star, Bruce Springsteen, rolled back into town for his聽latest UK tour. A favourite of MPs and Westminster聽insiders, including the聽leading Cabinet minister聽Pat MacFadden, the聽songsmith of hard times and聽social movements has spent聽decades telling the story of聽men and women who have fought聽back from聽difficult聽odds.

鈥�The diner was聽shuttered and boarded.听With a sign that just said聽鈥榞one鈥�,鈥� he sang.

It could聽be the Rust Belt 鈥� it could聽be a marginal constituency聽in the Midlands.

Walk around large swathes of our small聽towns, suburban high roads, and city聽centres and you will see boarded-up聽shops, cracked pavements, and the聽sense of a public realm in decay. For all聽the lofty political and economic debates,聽it鈥檚 in large part this visible scarring聽of a country that has propelled Keir Starmer into Number 10. Ask any MP聽or councillor, and they鈥檒l tell you what聽comes up on the doorstep; high streets聽and potholes won鈥檛 be far from the聽top. These everyday markers of decay聽blur into voters鈥� experience of public聽services, leaving them with a general聽sense that the country isn鈥檛 working.

And for all the promises of grandiose technological fixes, it is our day-to-day relationships with public services, be that at the GP surgery, the school gate or the bus home from work that often matters most of all. To understand how we rebuild trust, we must look to nurture and improve these daily experiences, which are often centred around deep relationships, not futuristic abstraction. As the great geographer, Deborah Massey, once wrote 鈥渁mid the Ridley Scott images of world cities, the writing about skyscraper fortresses, the Baudrillard visions of hyperspace鈥�most people actually still live in places like Harlesden or West Brom. Much of life for many people, even in the heart of the First World, still consists of waiting in a bus shelter with your shopping for a bus that never comes.鈥�

It is a theme we picked up time and time聽again in our recent 果冻影院 Policy Lab and More in Common research, alongside聽a sense from voters demanding聽real change 鈥� not just short-term聽improvement but a sense politics would
鈥榙o things differently鈥�. This was best聽expressed as a demand that politics聽better respect ordinary people.听Keir Starmer reflected on just this issue聽in his recent Rose Garden speech聽in Downing Street. Amongst the聽foreboding about the difficult choices to聽come, there was a reflection on ordinary聽people鈥檚 response to this summer鈥檚 riots聽and how this response could inspire聽how we rebuild Britain.

鈥淚magine the pride we will feel as a聽nation. When, after the hard work of聽clearing up the mess is done. We have a聽country that we have built together.鈥�

With these words, Starmer recognised聽a truth that should be self-evident聽鈥� collective change has to be done聽 together. And not just by Whitehall,聽anyone who has had minimal contact聽with the British state will know that
relying on targets and bureaucratic聽changes alone won鈥檛 come close聽to meeting the complexity of the聽challenges we face.听

This is an argument that 果冻影院 Policy聽Lab鈥檚 Ordinary Hope project has聽returned to time and time again: as聽writer Jonathan Rutherford often聽phrases it, it is about the country that聽sits just beneath the surface. Not some聽rare聽breed of community organiser or聽activist, but those who comprise the聽majority鈥攖he people who work hard to聽build a place and support one another聽when times are tough.

It is a spirit you will find alive and well at One Stonegrove, a community centre聽located not 15 minutes from Edgware聽station. When I visit, it is just three聽weeks since the riots that brought racist聽street violence to communities across聽Britain. Yet here, amongst the sound of聽kids playing basketball in the hall and folks wandering in and out, we are in聽another country, another place.听

鈥淲e did this 鈥� the community聽fingerprints are all over it. The thing is,聽it鈥檚 good because we built it. We came聽together to build initially 鈥� but also聽because the people who use it have聽shaped what it does from day to day鈥�.

Gus Alston is the CEO of One Stonegrove and has worked in and around local projects all his life. He鈥檚 worked for and with councils, the charity sector, and civic society鈥攈e鈥檚 a walking talking testimony of government initiatives and attempts to support 鈥榗onnection鈥� or 鈥榗ohesion鈥�.

Gus鈥檚 work is inspiring. But it is also echoed across the country. The practitioners and social change leaders we work with tell us that there are a thousand Guses in the UK. Charities and governments like to turn them into very special heroes鈥攁nd in a sense, they are鈥攂ut they are also there in every community and neighbourhood. This sense of place and community exists in spades in Britain; we see it in our polling and our views on how public services should be run.

It is a fact that researchers including 果冻影院鈥檚 Professor Mark Tewdwr-Jones say is happening across Britain 鈥淚n many places, there is not only a desire for change but also a determination to get on with things. People are no longer prepared to wait for the central state to act. Or else they are more cynical now about the state鈥檚 ability to recognise the uniqueness of their problems and find the means to eradicate them鈥�.

It鈥檚 this work that he and colleagues at 果冻影院 have continued to explore and study 鈥� helping recognise the immense social and economic value of people like Gus. For all the grand projects call it 鈥榠nclusive growth鈥� or 鈥榣evelling up鈥� Tewdwr-Jones believes it comes down to governments willingness to trust and respect those doing the work locally.

鈥淎 quiet revolution is happening鈥�. Tewdwr-Jones says. 鈥淭his is a placebased, people-centred approach to managing change, bringing citizens, communities, businesses and agencies together, finding little local victories, offering hope. Central government doesn鈥檛 need to intervene in a hands-on way in these instances or offer money for some glitzy 鈥榞rand projet鈥�. All that central government needs to do is give legitimacy to the activities and learn not to get in the way鈥�.

When you鈥檝e visited dozens of community schemes, you sometimes expect them to feel rundown or falling short. But not here. The One Stonegrove community centre is beautiful. It is not showy or expensive, but it is a place you want to be. It is a place you want to meet and a place you鈥檇 be proud to call home. And this stuff matters; you don鈥檛 have to be a fully signed-up member of the broken windows theory of policing to think social rot starts with actual rot 鈥� be it damp flats or creaking sports facilities (or no facilities at all). It matters when it comes to social cohesion, it matters when you want to create a sense of national mission and it matters when you want to be a healthy growing economy.

When you speak to people like Gus, they often try to avoid national political debates. They are, after all, dealing with the critical stuff, ensuring people are fed or housed, but he offers some ideas as to what type of politics can properly fix and rebuild Britain.

鈥淭here seems to be a tendency to bring in experts and consultants into central government. But what about those working in health, education, or youth services in communities? Perhaps if they asked and listened, they might be able to design smarter solutions.鈥� It鈥檚 about understanding that grand schemes and centralised systems are well-meaning but too often fail to adapt and use genuine talent and ideas.

鈥淚f I鈥檓 honest, council-owned community centres are generally a disaster鈥�, says Gus. He is quick to stress that they are well-meaning but fundamentally set up to limit risk and deliver to statutory objectives 鈥� as opposed to fostering connection and innovation. Gus provides a small but powerful example.

鈥淲e have a group of young people that volunteer every week, and they鈥檙e great, and there really is no reason why you can鈥檛 do it. But if we were council-run, there鈥檚 no way it would be happening.鈥� And it鈥檚 not just around young people and skills where councils and public services seem unable to adapt to human needs and capacity.

鈥淗ere, a community member can come to a staff member or grab ten minutes with me because I鈥檓 not hiding away in some office.鈥� Gus talks of how ideas that come to him in the morning could be implemented by the afternoon. 鈥淲e can test and adapt and give people a sense of control over their place and community鈥�.

Gus recalls when a big housing association contacted the trust to offer 拢500 grants to local residents. 鈥淭hey were asking residents to do seven-page risk assessments. Of course, most people don鈥檛 know how to write a risk assessment. Luckily, we persuaded them to give us the grants in batches, and essentially, what we鈥檙e doing in the end is indemnifying them, and we鈥檙e prepared to take the risks鈥�.

The capacity to take on social and economic risks is something that 果冻影院 economists such as Wendy Carlin have highlighted as an integral element to restoring the British economy. If we鈥檙e to rebuild, a willingness to embrace and trust one another will be key 鈥� researchers saw that during the pandemic when local public health teams were trusted they were able to deliver effective local schemes with little funding.

Fundamentally, this approach is about being able to respond and be there for one another. As Gus rushes off to speak to the workmen installing the brand-new solar panels (the panels will make up the largest charity solar power system in London) I start chatting with Akram. She mentions that she鈥檚 lived in several areas and has never quite felt like she鈥檚 been at home. When she moved into the new estate across the road, she saw the life coming from the centre; a keen baker, she wandered in with some cakes and offered them to the staff.

鈥淚n truth, after that, I never left. I鈥檇 bring cakes in for the locals and groups, and then they asked me if I wanted to help out鈥�. Akram smiles as she talks about the place that she now calls her community. I ask her if it is genuinely this friendly, is it as perfect a community as it looks 鈥� it must have problems.

鈥淥f course, but you know what? I know everyone鈥檚 name in the block opposite. We鈥檙e from all different backgrounds 鈥� some social tenants or some own their flats 鈥� but we look after one another. It鈥檚 a real place 鈥� a home.鈥� I look back across towards the school; another group is arriving for classes and Akram heads off to greet a group of elderly residents dropping by to say hello.

There is a growing body of evidence showing the importance of social infrastructure built by folks like Gus and Akram. These are spaces that bring people together and contribute to community cohesion and wellbeing. Recent work at 果冻影院 by Professor John Tomaney and colleagues has demonstrated its contribution in former coal mining communities in County Durham. Their work reads like a story from a Bruce Springsteen song; concluding that social infrastructure takes time, commitment, and care to build but can be quickly lost if it is not well maintained, with harmful consequences for communities.

In his hit A Long Way Home, Bruce Springsteen speaks of a place that鈥檚 seen better days, and yet recognises its strength remains, the people who make it so, they have always looked out for one another. Springsteen sings about a brighter future, a belief in the hope that comes from shared endeavour. It may be a long walk home, but if our politics can allow it, Britain has the chance at genuine renewal.