It’s a familiar scene that feels increasingly like a relic from another planet: a former minister confidently advising a tiny, pre-revenue micro company to exhibit at a prestigious London trade show. The kind of event where just the exhibition space costs north of £10,000, not to mention the additional bills for travel, accommodation and the endless cups of £5 coffee for the team. The moment leaves you wondering if this minister has ever met a micro business owner or seen the figures that keep their heads just above water.
This is the unfortunate reality of how some ministers, often comfortably removed from the daily grind of small and medium-sized enterprises, hand out advice that’s as practical as a chocolate teapot. While their hearts might be in the right place, their perspective is often skewed by the plush corridors of government offices, far away from the chaos of juggling invoices and overheads. The advice to “just exhibit at the big show” rarely comes with a reality check or an acknowledgment of the actual costs and risks involved.
It’s not just about the cash outlay either. For a micro business with limited staff, taking time away for travel and preparation can mean the whole operation grinds to a halt. The opportunity cost is huge, and for those still trying to find their market fit, a £10,000 gamble on a trade show stall might well be the difference between sinking and swimming. Or just a waste of money because the only people coming are the ones after free pens and another hessian bag…
This disconnect isn’t confined to just one minister or one event. In the world of business, there are plenty of examples where policies or suggestions seem designed more for the TV cameras than the boardroom. Consider initiatives that encourage SMEs to ‘scale up quickly’ without addressing the practical challenges of cash flow or the nightmare of hiring in a tight labour market. Or grants offered that require such a mountain of paperwork they might as well be a PhD thesis. The distance between policymaker and practitioner can be wide enough to drive a fleet of delivery vans through.
So what can be done? One obvious step is for ministers and policymakers to spend more time walking in the shoes of those they seek to support. Real visits to micro businesses, shadowing entrepreneurs for a day, or even rolling up sleeves in a workshop can bring a much-needed dose of reality. Bringing SMEs directly into the policy conversation, (beyond the usual talking shops and glossy reports), can help ensure advice is grounded, practical and truly useful.
Another part of the solution lies in better communication. Ministers could acknowledge upfront the hidden costs behind their recommendations. Suggesting exhibiting at a show? Great, but also share insights about alternative, lower-cost ways to gain visibility or how to build a digital presence that won’t break the bank. SME owners already know their limitations, they just need the guidance that matches their reality.
And let’s not underestimate the power of humour in all this. A little self-awareness from ministers about how out-of-touch they might sometimes sound can disarm criticism and open the door to real conversations. After all, if a minister can joke about the absurdity of expecting a micro company to suddenly pull £15,000 from thin air to fund an exhibition stand, maybe they’re more likely to listen when those same businesses explain the uphill battle of cash flow and resource allocation.
At the end of the day, ministers hold powerful platforms and voices. Their words can inspire, guide and even transform. But when those words don’t reflect the struggles of the smallest businesses, they risk coming across as not just out of touch, but downright irrelevant. Bridging that gap isn’t just good politics; it’s essential for building a thriving, inclusive economy where every enterprise, no matter how tiny, has a fair chance to grow.
And if all else fails, perhaps a crash course in budgeting and the real cost of a cup of coffee at London trade shows might be a good place to start.
