An outbreak of third sector cannibalism

I guess it had to happen. With funding cuts and the change in emphasis from 'gimme a grant' to 'how can I help you', cannibalism was perhaps to be expected. However rather  than the nice friendly mergers I was expecting, folk are fighting dirty. It's a shame.

To avoid compromising what is actually quite a delicate situation, I'll not name names; however if you can guess who I'm talking about feel free to tweet - as we now know - even super-injunctions can't stop that!

So to the story. Imagine two young men, let's call them Less and Able. They've moved around the sector for years, working together at least twice. Able is very good at his job, gentle and passionate about making a difference. Less is not quite so bright and struggles to to settle down - deep down he means well, but somehow, never quite has the credibility of Able.

Like the similarly named Biblical brothers, tension grew and Less had an idea. He accused Able of using information gained at a previous employer in his current job. He did this by 'tipping off' the former employer with whom ironically both had worked and arguable Less had abused more!

Rather than tell Less to piss off, the former employer stormed into the new employers offices demanding retribution. Ironic again as the two organisations work closely together with the aggressor in this case being the one with the most to lose - the supplier.

Able is now under investigation and I suspect, looking for another job. Less is hoping he'll go so he can feel more secure.

The trouble is that when people and organisations fight each other everyone loses. Less will become far less popular once word gets out that he's tried to 'eat' Able. The two employers are in a no win argument from which nothing good can come. And this is the so called caring sector, there to help the weak and vulnerable in society get along. What would you do if you found yourself caught up in a situation like this?

Do you say it like it is or as people want to hear it?

I was asked by a friend to provide a character reference this week. The guy has become tired of running his own business and decided to apply for a management job instead. The job is in a sector he has empathy with but as he told me; ' I’m not fooling myself into thinking I’m going to get it, or that I’m even qualified to do the job but it interests me and I thought I've got nothing to lose in giving it a bash.'

 So was I right to refuse to provide a reference? It seemed to me that he was more interested in leaving where he was than in demonstrating, even to me, why he was the perfect man for the job he's after. Furthermore, knowing the person who is retiring and creating the vacancy, I just can't see my friend being happy moving into the empty seat. It involves too much bureaucracy!

Needless to say he's now quoting Mark Twain at me and accusing me of not being supportive in his time of need. My suggestion that he would do better to conquer his business challenges than run away and get a job touched a nerve. I'm probably now off his Christmas card list. 

What he doesn't know is that over the past 21 years of self employment and running my own businesses, I too have had the urge to run away on perhaps three occasions. I too have filled in application forms for jobs, not because I want them, but because the pain of self employment, right then, was becoming too much. For me, filling in the form was usually enough; I threw them in the bin rather than post them and felt better for the flirtation with change.

I know many people who have fled from the pain of their current situation rather than face and conquer it. In every case, they have come to regret the move. Some have even turned the clock back and gone back, others could not and became stuck and very unhappy.

So, would you have lied and written a glowing reference or would you have refused, explained why and recognised the subsequent rejection as the price you have to pay for being honest?

A case of mistaken identity

I went to an Awards event last night. It was organised by a professional institute and so most people were wearing grey. Most also had grey hair and many were far older than even I am.

I saw someone I thought I recognised. He was sitting on his own reading the Awards booklet. From the top of his head, he looked very like a guy I know called John. John is someone with whom I enjoy lively banter whenever we meet, usually at events like this one.

I kicked his foot by way of jovial introduction and said something like; 'hi, what brings you here.' The papers fell into his lap and the guy looked straight into my face. I then realised it was not John at all. I glanced down at his name badge. It said Brigadier; it said OBE and listed lots of other letters too. John on the other hand would only have letters after his name if he saved enough coupons from cereal packets.

'Hello, my name is Robert and I thought you were somebody else.' I said, slightly embarrassed. 'Oh that's OK he said, my name is Barry.' Unusually for me, I did not turn this serendipitous meeting into an opportunity. I must be losing my networking touch!

Bu why is it that the older people get, the more alike they look?

Could someone please introduce me to reality?

Did you have a kaleidoscope as a child? You know, one of those tubes you peer into and twist to create startling, symmetrical patterns like the one here on your left.I did and spent hours looking through it, distorting things.

At times, life seems like that to me. In fact right now, two weeks into 2011 it feels very much that reality is being blurred into a series of confusing patterns. Is it the same for you too?

Perhaps I've had too many consecutive days of meeting bureaucrats, each recoiling from the dramatic change they face and have no influence over. Perhaps it's also because I've decided to stop working at the weekend and so am spending more time outside in my garden, on my tractor and generally connected with the natural cycle of seasons, climate and nature.

The landscape, bleak at this time of year, is bleak because it is this time of year. Leafless trees, sodden soil and frost browned grass. The other landscape is also very bleak right now. Job losses, budget cuts, tough decisions and inequalities - but are both equally real or is one an economic construct? Can we change the economy? We certainly can't change the climate - well not much.

and on a personal, micro-scale, just as one week 2011 seems filled with opportunity, so the next week it can look really gloomy? Now here I can make a difference . . .  . . .so will focus there!

Back to the future

The viral campaign on Facebook this weekend has been very, very successful. Although not started by the NSPCC it has their endorsement and is boosting public awareness of their cause.

People have been encouraged, by peer pressure, to change their Facebook profile picture to a cartoon character from their childhood. This wonderfully nostalgic exercise forces you to remember your own happy, innocent days when life was simple and for most people safe.

The campaign reminds those fortunate enough to have a happy childhood that for some kids, life is far from pleasant. By encouraging us all to reflect on our own early years, we are reminded of the importance of investing in an organisation that helps those for whom childhood memories will not be so happy.

I have a foot in both camps on this one. My very early years were happy I seem to remember, but as my childhood progressed things changed. Years of psychotherapy have helped me see that the deterioration of my father's mental health, together with my mother's inability to cope or courage to seek help, created the stultifying family environment from which I eventually emerged.

By coincidence, I saw the film 'Good Will Hunting' last night. It tells the story of a bright kid who chooses not to do well, to get even with his abusive foster parents long gone. Turning point in the film is the moment where his therapist keeps repeating the phrase; 'it's not your fault.' This repeated approbation does the trick and the film moves on to a happy ending.

Which brings me to Muffin the mule. My earliest TV memory, from those happy days of blissful innocence when life was easy and my story had only recently begun.

Never ask a man in a flat cap for a cappuccino

I was taken out for lunch on Friday. The pub we went to was what some would call traditional and others would call retro. The place mats, paper napkins and lack of an open fire reminded me of the 'moderrnised' pubs I'd frequent 35 years ago.

Here you'd eat beef pie, treacle tart and drink beer, beer or perhaps just for a change, more beer. Soft drinks were for girls and coffee something you drank at home - and then only the instant variety.

The landlord wore a flat cap. Nothing wrong with that either I guess, perhaps he's sensitive about his baldness or simply making some kind of fashion statement. The food was hot and filling and a coffee seemed like a good idea. Asking for a cappuccino however prompted the kind of look you'd expect to get if you asked where the First Class compartment was on a Blackpool tram.

The man in a cap clearly knew what cappuccino was, but could not think why I'd be asking for it in his pub. We had 'nice' cups of filter coffee instead. He had a point I suppose and his pub was packed with people munching pies and enjoying jam rolypoly with custard.

Of course the problem is mine not his. I prefer not to be reminded of the 1970s and in particular the pubs I visited in that era. One thing is certain though; I'm going to avoid any place where the guy behind the bar is wearing a flat cap!

Be careful what you wish for

I've always liked being busy, but right now opportunities seem to be leaping out at me from every corner. It's good to be recognised for the work I do. Better to be in demand by those willing to pay for what my expertise can deliver them. But being busy can have its down sides too. Not enough quality time for me, to re-charge, refresh and re-connect.

This week for example, my planned 'quiet day' with two meetings and time to enjoy the moment has been sacrificed to accept an invitation to a London event. No ordinary event, it's a Big Society workshop for senior civil servants and I'm told one or two Ministers of State. It's a unique opportunity to share my views with people able to shape policy and I hope, be swayed slightly in their thinking by the experiences I'll be sharing within them from my work at the 'Big Society' coalface. And yes, I'll learn from them too.

But the fact remains that my week now feels as if it's accelerating out of control. Much of this is of course perception and panic, whilst the reality means time to think and write on trains and for a couple of hours on Thursday morning in my favourite London hotel.

Being busy forces you to prioritise, to make time for the projects you're committed to completing. It also forces you to tread that fine line between saying yes to everything and sacrificing your sense of self and sanity, and being selective to protect what matters to the inner self.

It's a difficult path to tread and mot one foreseen when setting ambitious career goals.