Reflections on SOLACE and LGA Conferences

Reflection on Society of Local Authority Chief Executives and Senior Managers (SOLACE) and Local Government Association (LGA) Conferences:

“But you have to go, and you’ll make new friends.” “No, I don’t want to.” Although this sounds like an exchange every parent has had when convincing their child to go to school for the first time or to attend a camp, it was actually between me and my chief executive about attending the Solace and LGA conferences back-to-back.

The Public Network

The goal was to "network." I hate the idea of networking. I don’t suffer from imposter syndrome at work, but I do feel a touch of it when going to these conferences. Who do I know here? Who will speak to me, and why would they? I also know that these spaces are rarely populated by black and brown people, other than the security and catering staff.

So, what is this “networking”? In the back of my mind, it feels like walking up to complete strangers and introducing myself purely for self-promotion and self-aggrandisement. For an introvert (someone who draws energy from being alone), the pain is real.

However, I am happy to report that my experience of the SOLACE and LGA conferences was surprisingly positive. I am massively behind in my work, but I have to say that I enjoyed the experience of going to these conferences and actually networking! Strangely, I did a lot of business for the authority too (cue the Mandy Rice-Davies’ line, “he would say that, wouldn’t he?”).

Getting Solace from the Directors

SOLACE is still a bit of a closed shop. The “chief-dar” (like Gaydar but for Chief Executives) is strong amongst them. Last year, I often felt like a child at an adult party. One Chief, when introduced to me for the third time, quipped, “Every time I turn around, you’re there!” I guess that’s making an impact. However, this year, I understood the “rules of the road”. If you hang out in the right spaces and make the right gestures, your fellow directors will find and flock with you.

At the formal dinner, I ended up on the table of the international delegation groups—local government officers from Australia, New Zealand, and the US (no first nation people among them, so they fitted right in). They were generally baffled by the amount of wine on the table. It’s easier to find wine than water at these events, which led me to a “road to Damascus” moment, hoping for a reverse miracle akin to the wedding at Cana (my Bible study isn’t up to scratch, so I may be mixing parables). Were we all alcoholics, they asked? No, just British local government leaders! I later found out how much they were paid and began to reconsider my next council destination (double my salary for less work—perhaps I could learn Māori, although I struggle enough with English).

And on another note, why do venues insist on food that needs a knife, fork, and table—but make you stand to eat it? There was an amusing standoff over a Lancashire Hot Pot between the catering staff and a delegate. We were in Old Trafford, Manchester (not the football ground, but we could see it from there). When a raised voice insisted, “It’s traditional.” This wasn’t going down well with the delegate. I longed for the Coronation Street theme to strike up to end the scene.

God’s Own Country

The LGA was a different kettle of fish. We were in Harrogate, tantalisingly close to Betty’s Tea Shop, but not in it (to my disappointment). Imagine every person you’ve ever worked with in one place, with you thrown in at the deep end. Welcome to the LGA!

To me, it was like five conferences happening concurrently in the same place, a “multiverse ” with occasional crossovers at plenary sessions. Each major political party held closed-door sessions, along with an independent group and the Chief Executives. If you didn’t fit into one of these groups, only the general sessions and supplier marketplace were open to you. I considered sneaking into the Chief Executives’ sessions but was told there was a list. Memories of being turned away from nightclubs came to mind (“Your name’s not down, so you’re not coming in”), and I didn’t fancy being humiliated with my ID checked and found wanting.

Outside the exclusive CE sessions and swanky CE dinners (several of us Directors tried to score a ticket and failed), we were more like “Victorian street urchins,” lurking by half-open doors, catching crumbs of information. These were rooms I wanted in on but were both physically closed to me and metaphorically bolted from me. This a reminder that I’m still on the outside looking in, Director by title but aspiring CE by ambition.

If You Haven’t Got Anything Nice to Say… Come and Tell Me

During my roaming around during the closed-door sessions, an ex-councillor caught me mid-Twix hunt, offering consultancy services peppered with strong opinions about both official and unofficial opponents. I politely reminded him, “You know I’m an officer and cannot comment.” Intel and nostalgia were also on offer in the smokers’ area (I was still on a Twix hunt). I picked up some juicy intel on other ex-councillors from another local authority I had worked at. The fact I no longer worked there didn’t dampen their enthusiasm for sharing news (I still couldn’t comment but I enjoyed receiving the information).

Many ghosts from my own past were also present. I ran into two ex-leaders I’d worked with, five former line managers and CEOs (cue two “naughty step” coffee meetings), and even a few of my avid LinkedIn readers. If you ever want to feel your career history replay like a greatest hits album, this was it.

Life in a Northern Town… Social Cohesion Insights

As I write up my notes on the social cohesion sessions, one truism comes to mind: “The greatest divide can be just the width of a park.” In some northern communities, far-right activists are stirring unrest in places councils have neglected. Eminem once rapped about the eight-mile divide between the bright lights and his trailer park, and here the stories were about a 15-year life expectancy difference across the span of a park. In some areas, the only council presence is the child protection team. With one in 50 children in care in one area, locals see the council as “child snatchers,” not a force for good. It’s time for some sober reflection if we’re not to let these disengaged communities find misinformation for themselves and become the tinder boxes for a far-right spark.

A Spark of Innovation?

On a lighter note, I kept bumping into a tech sales team who were the Pepé Le Pews to my cat—or so it seemed until the LGA conference, when the tables turned, and I became the pursuer. Full of chocolate, I launched into my pitch: a community-sharing platform to boost skill-sharing and opening up communication lines between social groups. They seemed hooked, or at least interested enough to suggest we meet and talk details. I don’t smoke, but it turns out knowing where to catch the smokers on their break could be bad for their wallets too. Since they already offer free licenses to community groups, making this platform available to ours might not be such a long shot. New task: set up a workshop and see if we can land this tech for free.

Good Things

One session on digital exclusion was particularly inspiring. I learned that one council gives families entering temporary accommodation a donated laptop or tablet with a SIM for free internet access—a blend of educational support and a self-service council service line. The Good Things Foundation , Joseph Rowntree Foundation, and Vodafone offer similar schemes to cover connectivity costs, which genuinely combat digital exclusion. Add that to my list!

Late-Night Networking

I stayed out till 1am on a ‘school night’ at the LGBTQIA+ disco (it would seem that most of the people there were straight and networking). I was rubbing elbows with a number of Chief Executives (is there a collective noun for CEs?). Hot topic: the new Council of Leaders, the impact that F40 group was having on SEND , and the push for Leaders to have direct dialogue with the government—not just the metro/combined authority mayors.

There was a closed-door meeting between Leaders, CEs and Civil Servants hammering out some sort of deal. The Minster of state cracked a joke in the plenary about our acronyms in the various council groupings, given that London Councils, the District Councils Network and some other groups that I had never heard about, had all had reps speak to him about their groups and the sector at larger needs.

And finally…There’s No Place Like Home

So here we are, post-conferences, with six-hour drives, late nights, and new insights to bring back. Thanks to my “work mum” for the push to go, and “work aunty” for the dinner invites. And to everyone else (yes, even those behind the bike sheds, you know who you are) – cheers for making it memorable.

Now, onto following up on these leads and bringing some of these ideas home. Feel free to connect or drop a comment if you’ve had similar conference adventures!