Category: big picture

Can lockdown give victims of bullying a break?

The #NotJustNCVO hashtag on Twitter, inspired by a recent report into bullying at NCVO, is compelling reading. It has walloped me with an emotional punch and brought many of my own unpleasant memories of bullying and harassment to the surface. I’ve had enough experience of bullying in our sector to last me a lifetime, the culminations of which led me to the edge of a breakdown.

Happily, things have got much better for me and I’m now enjoying work as a fundraising consultant. Like most other fundraisers, I’ve been working from home since March, but because I was doing this anyway, the change hasn’t felt as dramatic as it does for others. It has made me reflect, however, on the impact that lockdown might have on toxic workplaces and the impact of the worst perpetrators.

I’m sure there are plenty of terrible impacts. People might be feeling more isolated than ever before.

However, if I were working for an abusive employer now, how might lockdown give me new coping strategies?

Workplace bullies operate on the margins of formal structures

I’ve experienced bullying and toxic environments in more than one job. Some of these situations arise through incompetence, laziness and a desire to please the boss. I’ve noticed, however, that the most devious bullies take pains to exert their power outside of the formal structures of meetings and emails.

Looking back, I can see how one manager went to great lengths to avoid witnesses and written evidence. During our supervisions she’d tell me, angrily, to stop taking notes. I meekly complied, assuming this was some clever management technique to improve my memory. I’ve concluded it was nothing of the sort: it was simply a way of avoiding accountability.

The worst things she ever said to me were said in a meeting room behind a closed door.

I eventually learned. I made sure never to close her office door when I had a meeting with her; we were in earshot of other desks, and this seemed to help. I wrote up notes as soon as I’d left the room. In my final few months at that job, I actively avoided speaking to her at all. I don’t think she even noticed, even though she was my manager and ought to have been scheduling regular catch-ups. In this case, her avoidance of accountability worked in my favour.

The structured, opt-in nature of Zoom calls could potentially help victims. It could be much harder for a manager to take you to one side and intimidate you with the force of their presence. And if they’re bad at remembering to schedule catch-ups? Maybe you could also conveniently forget.

Workplace bullies create cliques

Perhaps I’m naive, but I’ve frequently been astonished when colleagues have opted for defending terrible, harmful people and decisions over the wellbeing of their staff. I suppose lots of managers like a quiet life. I also think that there is a tyranny of “niceness” in our sector which hides healthy conflict under a coating of passive-aggression and pits colleagues against each other. I’ve met plenty of flying monkeys in my time.

Obviously, if you’re working from home you can’t possibly know which Zoom meetings you’re being left out of, but on the plus side, you’re not forced to watch everyone go out for lunch together without inviting you. You won’t hear those strategic background conversations which are intended to make you feel small. Those opportunities for clique-building have been stymied.

Workplace bullies mess with your sense of reality

It took me a long time to realise that I was a victim myself. Even now, memories of conversations come back to me which I only see now were hurtful and offensive.

Some environments are so toxic that you can’t fully appreciate how bad they are until you’ve had a chance to step away and gain perspective.

I hope working from home has helped some victims to do this. Maybe now, you’re appreciating the break from a poisonous office environment. Maybe the #NotJustNCVO hashtag has prompted you to rethink some of your recent exchanges with colleagues. Has someone said something to you that made you feel an enormous sense of shame? That’s wrong. That should never happen at work. Look at it again.

Are there changes we can advocate for? I have some ideas.

And keep a diary. Of everything.

Are we ready for the change that is coming?

It’s the easiest thing in the world to assume that things are going to carry on as they are. Major, cataclysmic change is a thing of the past.

I think that anyone who was under that impression has been put right by the pandemic, the Black Lives Matter movement, and various governments’ responses to both. It turns out that we can completely reconfigure our economies and our ways of living if we decide to, although this particular set of circumstances is probably not much fun for most people at the moment.

The great irony is, though, that we could have seen these things coming if we had looked carefully enough. Scientists were issuing warnings about pandemic risk well in advance of 2020. The fury and grief felt by black people was in full evidence for anyone who bothered to listen. And we all know climate change is under way, along with a mass extinction event, although many of us probably have our heads in the sand about how bad these could get.

This isn’t a new or original observation, by any means. George Eliot acknowledged the  risk of complacency back in 1861 when she wrote Silas Marner:

“The lapse of time during which a given event has not happened, is… constantly alleged as a reason why the event should never happen, even when the lapse of time is precisely the added condition which makes the event imminent. A man will tell you that he has worked in a mine for forty years unhurt by an accident as a reason why he should apprehend no danger, though the roof is beginning to sink.”

What interests me is how the charity sector will respond to all of the above. Most of us are aware that climate change is likely to cause suffering to many of the communities that we serve. Not only that: how will it affect investments and mortgages on properties that may be at risk from, for example, flooding and wildfires? What will be the knock-on effects to our donors? How may they choose to prioritise their giving in future? And how can we think about all of this when we are dealing with today’s challenges?

I’m afraid I don’t have any definite answers for you, but I do believe that we can’t deal with each challenge separately. Although bad things can happen and compound in their severity very quickly, the same is also true of positive action. More black representation on the boards of charitable trusts may help to prevent small, black-led charities shutting down in the face of Covid-19 pressures. Listening to communities that are most vulnerable to climate change will lead to better prevention and mitigation. Finally, charities that live their values fully by divesting from fossil fuels will not only safeguard the planet, but probably also see a better return in the long term.

The path to “doing the right thing” can be fraught with difficulty, however. It was heartening, in many ways, to see Action on Hearing Loss announce that they are closing their head office and embracing home working. This will be welcome news to many, but will perhaps cause problems to those who do not have the space or facilities for home working (a problem that the charity has acknowledged and has said they are actively examining). The move to increasing accessibility can create accessibility problems for other groups.

In some ways this reminded me of RNLI’s move to a fully “opted-in” marketing policy when GDPR came in – a decision that they had to reverse. The desire to do the right thing is admirable, but hasty implementation can lead to a host of negative side-effects.

As Myles Bremner writes at the Institute of Fundraising, charities need to be agile and bold in order to adapt to the challenges we face. He highlights the importance of “clear, honest and transparent communications with stakeholders” – to which I’d add: make sure you know who all of your stakeholders are, include all of them, and remember that listening is a critical part of communication.

Enormous, epoch-defining change is happening right now, and I think that more is on the horizon. We can’t know what the future holds, or how to meet the challenges it brings. Or maybe we can, if we ask the right people.

Social media can be a lifeline, but don’t let it be your only way of relating to people, especially now.

I’ve written plenty about my decision to leave social media in November 2018, and I’ve found the benefits have been more than worth it (I’ve left Facebook, Twitter and LinkedIn, but I do use WhatsApp).

I felt a twinge of almost-regret when I started my freelance career, and I felt another twinge a few days ago, when the coronavirus crisis and the accompanying restrictions hit London. Would Twitter give me a sense of fellowship and constant communication that I’d miss during self-isolation?

I was able to answer that with a “no” very soon. Having skimmed a few Twitter profiles, I felt the familiar sense of rising panic. The fake news, angry responses to politicians (some justified, some not), and endlessly recycled jokes weren’t doing anything for my sense of wellbeing. I can generate plenty of anxiety by myself, I’ll have my unreasonable reactions to politicians in private, and I can definitely come up with bad jokes independently. (Sorry, husband.)

Twitter has its defenders and I’m sure it can do a lot of good, but I’ve questioned the balance of positive vs. negative attributes before. Talking to other people should make you feel better about yourself and the world, especially at a time like this. I have to wonder if the supermarket shortages have been exacerbated by social media fearmongering. As someone who suffers from anxiety, it has been educational to see how damaging fear can be when taken to extremes. It hurts others.

Right now, I’m craving simple human-to-human interaction. I’ve decided to try and speak to a friend, colleague or relative every single day of social isolation. I only call a couple of close friends regularly; calling a wider range of people will help to keep these relationships going and possibly deepen them.

If you can, make contact with your neighbours. I’m lucky to live in a cul-de-sac where I know most of the other residents at least by sight. As I look at my dwindling (and modest) stash, I remind myself that having people nearby who will look out for you is worth more than infinite rolls of toilet paper.

Stay safe, everyone, and keep in touch.

How many charities are covering up bad behaviour with NDAs? Let’s make them tell us.

I was dismayed to read the recent allegations against Alzheimer’s Society. The charity is accused of spending as much as £750,000 on NDAs with staff (Alzheimer’s Society denies the allegations). NDAs, or non-disclosure agreements, typically involve a payment to an employee on the condition that they do not disclose specific information about the organisation to anyone else.

NDAs do have some legitimate uses: no charity or business would want employees or ex-employees to share trade secrets with competitors. It’s arguable, however, whether NDAs used to cover up allegations of bullying, sexual harassment or other unethical behaviour are reasonable. I’d say no, especially because other notable users of NDAs include Harvey Weinstein, and the arbitration service Acas agrees with me.

Acas argues that using NDAs in this way “stops businesses from tackling the underlying issue” and that they “should not be used to hide a problem or brush it under the carpet”.

The open secret is that bullying is endemic in the charity sector

There is, sadly, an acknowledged problem with bullying in the charity sector, which is all the more distressing due to our supposed emphasis on ethical values. The issue has been documented in detail by ACEVO in their report “In Plain Sight”; I’m aware of anecdotal evidence from others; and unfortunately I’ve been the victim of bullying and discrimination myself.

The ACEVO report makes several much-needed recommendations regarding the need to improve workplace cultures and whistleblowing procedures and clarify the role of the Charity Commission. However, many of these assume good faith. I don’t see how they will make much of an impact on the charities that most urgently need to change – for example where a powerful senior leader is the perpetrator and unlikely to change their behaviour, and where trustees may be unaware or willing to turn a blind eye.

The ACEVO report also includes powerful examples of the impact of workplace bullying. It can destroy mental health, lead to breakdowns, create physical health issues, negatively affect personal relationships, and cause suicidal thoughts. I will not repeat their evidence here, but I urge you to read the report.

NDA reporting should be a mandatory part of charity accounts

It is currently impossible to know if, or to what extent, charities use NDAs to cover up complaints of bad behaviour. Perhaps it’s not a major problem in our sector, but I think this is an area worth exploring; the cost of ignoring it is far too high.

I believe that charities should be required to include a line in their accounts for NDA payoffs where a complaint is involved, summarising the total amount and the number of NDAs made.

It is clear that allegations of bullying and large payoffs are potentially highly damaging to charity reputations. I can’t imagine that many donors would be happy to find out that their money was being used to silence staff.

By forcing charities to report a number, cultural problems will quickly make themselves starkly known. The reputational risk of inaction will become untenable.

I often wonder if trustees are aware of what’s being done in their name. If they’re not aware of a bullying or otherwise toxic culture, then this would focus their attention on the issue. And if they don’t care – perhaps because the perpetrator is known to get “good results” – it would force them to take action for the sake of their charity’s reputation.

The ACEVO report found that bullying was often an “open secret” in the organisations where it occurred. Well, my view is that if everyone already knows, the knowledge should be shared as widely and frankly as possible. This would lead to some extremely uncomfortable conversations, but would ultimately result in a happier, healthier and more effective charity sector.

Where’s the charity sector’s sense of corporate responsibility?

Forster Communications’ new report, Matching Method to Mission, highlights a stark and somewhat shocking truth. Only two of the top 100 charities (Cancer Research UK and RNLI) have a corporate responsibility policy.

The report’s authors rightly raise this as a pressing concern. The impact on public trust is severe. The risk of further poor behaviour is real. And the sector’s ability to recruit the best and brightest will be affected.

Once again, the private sector is outshining the charity sector, as it is on issues such as diversity. The report’s authors suggest that the “Halo Effect” might be a factor: explaining that because “charities rely on an outdated belief that because they are a charity, everything they do must be beneficial.”

That’s very obviously not true: the scandals of Olive Cooke, Kids Company and the Garden Bridge all spring immediately to mind.

The report also quotes Virgin Media’s Head of Sustainability, Katie Buchanan: “Ultimately, charities don’t have a monopoly on creating social change and businesses may choose to take on a social issue without them.” She warns that this lack of attention to how we conduct our business may affect our ability to build corporate partnerships in future.

We need to step up to address some of the most pressing issues of our time

Those of us who pay even the slightest attention to the non-Brexit news these days will be wrestling, at least on some level, with the existential issue of climate change. We must be careful to choose optimism over despair, as I’ve previously written, but there’s no question that the situation is dire. And, as my former colleague Russell Benson has written, “if we are truly on course to destroy our planet, why bother with our missions anyway?”

Most of us, I hope, have chosen to work in the charity sector due to a sense of social responsibility. Why would we therefore be satisfied by workplace policies that don’t prioritise train travel over short-haul flights where possible? That don’t ensure that materials for marathon runners are fairly produced? That aren’t bothered about an ethical investment policy?

Divestment from fossil fuels would be a good place to start

It is heartening to read that a coalition of charities has requested guidance from the Charity Commission on whether they are legally required to align their investments with their mission. (There is no clear response from the Charity Commission as yet)

Whatever the Charity Commission decides, I believe charities have a moral imperative to at least consider divestment from fossil fuels and other socially harmful industries, beyond those causes that are seen to directly conflict with their mission. We might not be the largest sector in the UK, but we command £92bn of assets. That’s indeed significant. The Church of England has made the decision to divest from fossil fuels, as has my faith group, Quakers in Britain.

Personally, I try to practice what I preach. I keep my savings with Triodos – a bank that only makes investments that have a positive impact on the world – and have opened a Triodos Junior ISA for my daughter. Beyond my personal decisions, however, it’s also important to me to work for employers that share my values, and I expect many of my peers feel the same.

We should think about our place in the world, and expect to be challenged

Without a proper focus on corporate responsibility, we can expect more scandals, more bad publicity and more difficult questions from the public.

We’ve already seen the environmental question impact charities this year, with the criticism directed towards Comic Relief for the plastic waste created by Red Nose Day.

Will we continue to lag behind businesses and faith groups, or will we step up and show leadership on one of the most critical challenges of modern times?

After all, as Greta Thunberg has said, “Change is coming, whether you like it or not”.

Portrayals of philanthropy in popular culture

I’m always intrigued when charities and/or fundraising get a mention in mainstream culture. It doesn’t happen too often, and when it does, it’s often superficial. I found this article on Blue Avocado which gives some good examples and notes that charities, their staff, and related issues are often purely used as backdrop, providing the vehicle for unrelated character or storyline development. Unhelpful stereotypes are also pervasive. It’s almost as if writers for TV and film don’t have much experience of charity work!

The Blue Avocado article, however, is from a while ago, so I thought it would be entertaining to look at some more recent instances, which follow below.

I don’t watch huge amounts of TV/streaming services so I’m sure I’m missing other good examples. Moreover, all of the below are from American TV shows; I’d love to hear if anyone has British examples.

Suits (Season 8, Episode 6)

The increasingly preposterous legal drama has a storyline about a dodgy charity. The reason they start investigating the charity is because “most charities spend five percent of their income on fundraising”, but the charity in question spends a shocking 5.3%. There must, therefore, be foul play at hand.

What does this tell us about the charity sector?

From this we can learn that, in America at least, myths about fundraising expenditure – and presumably also overheads – still abound.

Excuse me while I go and bang my head on my desk repeatedly for several minutes.

The Bold Type (Season 2, Episode 1)

I really like The Bold Type. It’s fun and easy to watch, but addresses some social issues with more complexity and panache than your average mainstream TV series.

This episode features an entrepreneur whose company donates menstrual cups to homeless shelters. However, it turns out that the menstrual cups are essentially useless to homeless women, who lack the hygiene facilities required to use them safely.

What does this tell us about the charity sector?

This represents an excellent example of the blindness caused by privilege. Many charities will have faced the headache of dealing with a well-meaning donor who hasn’t done their research and wants to give them something utterly useless. I applaud The Bold Type for recognising some of the complexities involved in philanthropy.

Billions (Season 1, Episode 2)

The bombastic Billions has a strong major donor storyline early on. The brash billionaire wants his name on a performance arts centre and offers to buy out the incumbent donors. He then savagely gazunders them as an act of revenge for a past insult, lowering his offer by $16 million. The centre representative tries to offer some lofty words about the importance of philanthropy, but this is hilariously dismissed: this particular major donor isn’t interested in social good. Revenge, and the social cachet of the naming rights, are all he cares about.

What does this tell us about the charity sector?

From Billions we gain a healthy reminder that all major donors have their own reasons for giving, and we may sometimes get caught in the crossfire of conflicts that we don’t understand.

Times have moved on, a little

Since the Blue Avocado article was published a decade ago, there have been some slightly more nuanced depictions of charities and philanthropy. But as the Suits example shows, unhelpful myths still persist. I don’t know what we can do about this, other than try to get more charity workers jobs as TV writers.

Why shouldn’t charities be covered in the business press?

Frequently I hear a fellow fundraiser complain that the mainstream press only ever covers the bad news stories about charities. This complaint has become more prevalent ever since the various scandals in the UK have arisen over the last few years.

For me, this attitude isn’t sufficiently based in reality to be credible. When has the mainstream press ever prioritised good news? Have you read the news recently? It’s generally all pretty terrible.

I do empathise with the sense of frustration, though. Charities only tend to get covered when: a) one of them has done something bad; b) one of them hasn’t actually done anything wrong, but the press claims foul play regardless; c) a spokesperson is commenting on something related to the cause; or d) a celebrity is involved in doing something eye-catching.

The public sees charities as cuddly, which is nice, but it hits our credibility

In the UK, there is often a tension between how the public sees charities – and expects us to act – and the practical realities of running a complex organisation on a shoestring. The public often expects charities to be staffed by volunteers, and the reaction towards any six-figure salary is often very negative.

Vu Le has written extensively about the harmful impact of such beliefs in the US. And they hurt us here, too.

The mainstream dialogue about charities is limited. I suppose the concept of “charity” often hits emotional buttons, especially when coupled with stories of real or supposed wrongdoing.

What if there was a more cool-headed, yet still compelling way to engage the world in our work?

Charities are complex, fascinating and difficult to run

I often wonder why we rarely see charities covered in the mainstream business press.

Maybe this is my inner charity nerd coming out, but I think some of the challenges faced by the sector are unique and fascinating. Balancing restricted grants against running costs?  Mergers? Innovations in project delivery?

We see similar detail about commerce in the business sections of newspapers. I suppose that’s often linked to share prices and investments. But we’re often told to manage major donor relationships as if they’re investing in us like they do in businesses. Understandably, they want to see bang for their buck, and they need to have confidence in the senior management team.

Getting journalists interested might not be totally impossible

Private sector professionals may very well be interested in the inner workings of charities – especially if they are considering their philanthropy. So I believe there’s an audience for charity news that goes beyond the trade press.

I’m not being completely speculative and idealistic: I note with great interest that Harvard Business Review occasionally runs articles on American nonprofits, including in-depth features.

I expect that HBR has substantial resources – perhaps more than the UK business press. It’s also notable that their charity opinion pieces are by people with substantial standing and reputation beyond the charity world, such as Dan Pallotta. The voice of the charity mainstream is missing.

Maybe some of our sector leaders should pitch more often to the business press. Perhaps charity PR departments could consider it as an option, although it’s not my area of expertise: possibly they do already and have encountered barriers. If so, it would be worth considering what we can do to overcome these barriers and get journalists interested.

If we can better publicise the challenges we face, perhaps our work – and our leaders – will be more widely respected and admired beyond our own circles, and we’ll be less likely to face situations like this.

Ethics in fundraising goes far beyond the donations acceptance policy

I read NCVO’s recently published Charity Ethical Principles with great interest. It highlights four principles via which charities should aspire to high ethical standards:

  • Beneficiaries first
  • Integrity
  • Openness
  • Right to be safe

I applaud its recognition that charities have impacts – both positive and negative – beyond their specific missions. It covers, for example, the importance of workforce diversity, the role that culture plays in ensuring staff feel safe at work, and a commitment to reducing environmental impact. However, it does not explore why these things are important, and for me this raised some interesting questions.

Is putting the beneficiary first always the right thing to do?

The Charity Ethical Principles states that “The interests of their beneficiaries and the causes they work for should be at the heart of everything charities and those who work and volunteer in and with them do.”

I agree with this statement. However, it also seems that pretty much anything a charity wants to do can be justified by “beneficiaries first”. High-pressure tactics from street fundraisers? Check. Mass mailings with only the barest nod to personalisation? Check. Hiring unpaid interns to reduce the staffing bill? Check.

Why stop there? A homelessness charity probably can’t accept funding from the alcohol industry. But the arms trade wouldn’t be a direct conflict – and it can be highly lucrative! If selling weapons to questionable regimes raises more money for a good cause, it’s putting beneficiaries first. Isn’t it?

Obviously that’s a ridiculous statement. Aside from the practicalities of a small charity opening a trading arm to sell fighter jets to Saudi Arabia, we all know that it would be unconscionable. And it would cause a public outcry.

What do we do when “beneficiaries first” appears to conflict with our other responsibilities?

I’m by no means the first to ask this type of question. Rogare, the fundraising think tank, is developing an ethics model for fundraising: its particular focus is balancing the twin philosophies of “donor first” and “beneficiary first”.

Rogare’s Ian Macquillin recognises that “charities are run as two ‘separate’ organisations, serving two different roles to two different stakeholders [i.e. beneficiaries and donors] in two different markets (which is a key difference to commercial organisations)”.

Reconciling the needs of these two groups is no easy job. Macquillin makes the convincing argument, though, that we need a framework involving more than simply what feels right to us, or what the public, or the Daily Mail, thinks is right. We need to be able to justify what we do as fundraisers, and think twice about anything that has the potential to cause damage.

But do charities have responsibilities beyond the beneficiary and the donor? How important are these, and what does the public expect from us?

The negative externalities of fundraising and charity work

A “negative externality” is “a cost that is suffered by a third party as a result of an economic transaction“. The negative effects of pollution caused by commercial vehicles, for example, isn’t borne by the businesses, but rather those living in the environment around them. (This is the logic behind London’s new Ultra Low Emission Zone).

Learning this phrase made me wonder: what are the negative externalities of our charity work? There must be plenty: not because we are ill-intentioned, but simply because we operate in the same world as everyone else. Off the top of my head:

  • Charities may have investments in fossil fuel or arms manufacturers – indirectly contributing to pollution / global instability
  • T-shirts and other fundraising materials may not be produced to high ethical standards – affecting the welfare of workers in other countries
  • A culture of bullying causes stress and ill health in employees – a cost that is borne by their family, and possibly also by the NHS

Why should we care?

It’s impossible for any of us to avoid leaving a footprint on the world – however hard we try. We might think it’s particularly difficult for cash-strapped charities.

But this, in my view, is the wrong way to look at it. By striving to be “good” in everything we do, beyond the narrow confines of our mission statements, we can make even more of an impact on the world – and ultimately on our bottom lines:

  • Striving for a more diverse workforce isn’t just “good”; there’s a strong business case for it.
  • Treating donors’ data with care and respect will engender trust and higher income over the long term. Having seen some privacy policies, it’s blatantly obvious which organisations are striving towards transparency and which are trying to find loopholes to wiggle through. If I can spot the difference, the public certainly can.
  • The charity sector may not be the biggest contributor to carbon dioxide emissions, but we all have a responsibility to try and make the whole world better. And there are likely to be huge investment opportunities in clean energy.
  • All of the above safeguards the reputation of the charity sector. The media continues to throw mud at charities; proving that we operate in good faith will ensure that less of it sticks. And we know that, reputation-wise, one charity behaving badly affects all of the others.

Maybe I’m coming across as naive and idealistic, but surely most of us in the charity sector are here because we do want to make the world a better place overall. So my argument is that doing all of the above is putting the beneficiary first. 

Finally, I’ve heard peers complain – particularly in light of the mass mailing scandals – that the charity sector is criticised more than the private sector. Well, don’t we want to be better? Why shouldn’t we be held to high standards? If we are truly committed to putting our beneficiaries first, we should relish the challenge.

Faith, hope and climate change

All the news about climate change has been getting me down lately. I’m sure I’m not the only one feeling this way. Becoming a parent has intensified this feeling; it turns out all the cliches are true.

This bad news is one of the many factors that has influenced my decision to quit social media. It had become my main source of news, and given that the algorithms of these platforms favour content that evokes strong negative emotions – such as fear – I decided I was better off without this in my life.

I wanted to be informed without being skewed towards fear. The mainstream news, however, does love its apocalyptic headlines.

Yes, things are bad and the world needs to do more and faster. But as is always the case with stories like this, there is more nuance than first appears. I’ve sought out some positive stories about progress towards changing the world, and have listed some of these below.

The good news I’ve found online

The change I’ve seen in my short lifetime

In my early twenties (I’m now 34) I was passionate about the environment and combating climate change, and was involved in activism and various protests (all legal in my case; I never had the guts to risk arrest). I could also be quite annoying. I believed that evil commercial companies were destroying the planet and the future lay in “alternative” energy sources.

My politics are still left-leaning, but now that I’m older I feel as if I’m better at seeing more of the complexity and uncertainty in the world. Companies are not inherently evil. Many are actively working to make the world a better place. And the world is also improving in many ways. As is clear from some of the links above, renewable energy is no longer on the fringes.

Increasingly, those in power are recognising that the choice between improving the environment and safeguarding the economy is false. These two priorities are converging, and in my view that’s good news for everyone.

The future is uncertain, and always will be

The idea that the future might not be good, or hopeful, or full of opportunity, is a terrible one, whether you are a parent or not.

But then again, I realise I’m naive for wanting certainty about the future. Here in the developed world, it’s easy to fall for the illusion that the world is safe. But really, it never has been. Previous generations have had to deal with the uncertainty and danger of the World Wars and the Cold War. Extreme poverty and disease are still a reality for many. Even we in our safe Western homes can be reminded of our frailty by natural disasters, disease or bereavement.

The world can be scary. But recognising its past dangers and uncertainties can make the uncertainty we face now easier to accept – and help us appreciate beauty and joy where we find it.

What does this mean for those of us who work in charity?

Most charity workers don’t work for environmental charities: this sector is very small. However, we are all fighting against forces that sometimes feel insurmountable: whether it be the mysteries of a particular disease, the extent of poverty or disaffection, or the cruelty of others.

The mass mobilisations that helped end World War Two, and fixed the hole in the ozone layer, could not have happened without on-the-ground activism (although the underlying threats that could lead to similar events have never completely disappeared). Whether that activism is political, or simply takes the form of spreading kindness, we are all trying to bring out the best in people, form loving communities, and prevent future suffering.

Throughout my late twenties and early thirties, I put climate change to the back of my mind. I still recycled and tried to be a good citizen, but was relieved to focus on other matters that felt less insurmountable.

But the recent news, coupled with my new role as a parent, have brought my concerns crashing back to the forefront of my mind. It’s pointless to try and hide away from the world’s realities, and I would be doing my daughter a disservice if I tried to shield her when she is old enough to understand them. But although the human race faces serious risks and challenges, there is plenty to be optimistic about.

There’s nothing particularly new or original about my viewpoint, but I hope sharing my thoughts, and my hope, may help others in all their vital work.