Flag Day

One of the things that most daunted me about taking on the role of Chief Executive at the charity Missing People was getting the money in. I knew that the buck stopped with me, if you’ll excuse the pun.

And 8 years on, it’s still tinged with fear. More so right now.

I’ve learned to get into a frock, knock back a gin and tonic - a must before a Gala dinner, I’m not going to lie - and speak from the heart on stage to move people to give.

I’ve learned how to turn up to an event and style out the excruciatingly painful moment of walking in alone, grabbing the nearest glass (there’s a theme emerging) and hoping someone will talk – and then I’m off. New friends made. New charity supporters on board. And it really, really works.

I’ve learned to be better at asking people for money. Which is good as someone who would rather give than take (no surprise for a ‘charity worker’).

I’ve got words now that I don’t stumble over: “Maybe you’d like to support the mum whose cherished 16 year old son vanished at the beginning of lockdown?” “Maybe you would like to support the missing child who is being threatened by a criminal gang to take drugs miles from home?”

I’ve understood that in the City, on high end streets, in leafy suburbs and in unexpected places that there are people with real money, that do want to give and do want to make a difference. A heartfelt thanks to those that do.

It helps that I’m more of a Rousseauian. That I believe humans are essentially good. And that’s helpful right now in these covid times when it wouldn’t take much to be overwhelmed with the Hobbesian view of the human condition as ‘solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.’

But I do fear the cliff edge. Covid is having a devastating impact, this much we know - and the charity world is still shaking.

Still no events to meet friends of the future. No Galas to wow an audience primed to give.

So, what happens now the party is over? The end of the canapé and tales of woe of companies struggling to literally keep their doors open. An economy loaded up with debt.

At the same time none of this breaks even.

Some people are falling to pieces. Some people are surviving and positively thriving. I just need to meet more of the latter, to help the former. If only I knew how.

And let’s get this into some kind of context.

As we’ve rolled back the state these last few years and charities have stepped in and are holding lots of us up, then we better find some way through this.

We’ve got to find a way to up the stakes. The times calls for it. I’m asking for help here.

There are going to be some newer givers and philanthropists too: those starting to inherit money from their baby boomer parents - the wealthiest generation in history and the pending biggest transfer of wealth in our history to boot.

The Beacon Collaborative are shining a light on all of this – a philanthropic movement introduced to us by the composer and charity backer Richard Stilgoe, striving to encourage people with money to give money.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who finds it hard to understand that only 2 in 5 people earning over ￡250,000 per year had ‘charity donation’ on their tax return, (maybe these are the same people that are last to the bar), especially when gifts to charity are tax free. Its winner takes all. Government contributes. And the highest tax payers can claim the most.

Meanwhile, it’s true that those with less give more. And still I worry if I say that it’s a moral imperative, that it might put folk off. So, I’ll just whisper it.

I wouldn’t be being honest if I didn’t say that I’d like to change the fundamentals one day. To sing from the rooftops the words from Flag Day by fellow songwriter and Hull bod Paul Heaton: “too many Florence Nightingales, not enough Robin Hoods, too may halos not enough heroes coming up with the goods.”

And I reflect on tough times at the charity this last year. We had to slim down. To slink our way through this year to emerge on the other side. Right when we need to be big and wholesome as more people are calling out for help.

It’s a painful paradox in charities that a business owner might not get: more customers, less money.

So, for those who want to share your fortune and put it to good, then let’s get cracking. And if you know someone who’s doing OK, or you advise people on how to invest their wealth, then send them our way.

In return, I can’t guarantee you a flag from the good old days of charity jumble sales. Those days feel done right now. But there’s a higher purpose in giving to a life beyond your own and it can even buy you happiness says Harvard Professor Michael Norton.

I'll get the bunting out for that.