You know the sort. They turn up at business roundtables, charity forums or government consultation events with a printed update of all the wonderful local lobbying that has been done and a head full of management slogans. They say things like “holistic ecosystem partnership” or “we’re engaging stakeholders to co-create impactful outcomes” and expect you to respond with applause. Or at least silence. Heaven forbid you ask what any of it actually means.
Because here’s the rub. If you question them, if you ask how their latest “regional development strategy” will help someone who’s running a local food bank or a small business scraping by on £32 profit a week, you may as well have walked in and insulted their favourite whiteboard. They’ll smile, make a note, and move swiftly to someone more agreeable. You will not be invited to the next consultation. You may be ghosted like a bad Tinder date.
There’s a curious phenomenon in these circles. The more ambiguous the language, the more untouchable the person. If you say, “That doesn’t really make sense,” you’re labelled “disruptive.” Say it twice and you’re a “concern.” Three times and you’ll find your access pass mysteriously doesn’t scan next time.
Let’s take a recent example. The FSB used to have area leaders. Real humans. You could call them, meet them, and have an actual conversation about the fact that your town centre hasn’t had a functioning post office since 2019. The FSB scrapped all its area leads from today – 1st April, which feels rather fitting, given that only a fool would think that removing local voices helps national representation.. Replaced by… what exactly? Social media accounts and a newsletter? A national councillor who is, no doubt, extremely well-versed in frameworks and workshops but who wouldn’t know your local trading estate from a bus depot in Devon? I know for sure that they delete or ignore comments they don’t like/can’t honestly answer on LinkedIn – “just another trouble maker…”
It’s no wonder small businesses and charities feel invisible. When the people meant to represent them start sounding like they’ve swallowed a thesaurus taped together by a government comms team, trust begins to fray. People don’t want twenty bullet points of “key priorities.” They want one clear answer to “Will this help me keep the lights on?”
We’re not asking for miracles. Just honesty. If a government programme is more about optics than outcomes, say so. If the budget’s been cut and you’re trying to make do with two paperclips and a borrowed intern, say so. You’ll get more respect for that than pretending the Emperor’s wardrobe is part of an “adaptive transformation process.”
Here’s a suggestion. Instead of punishing people for challenging waffle, why not reward it? Next time someone says, “This feedback loop doesn’t align with our stakeholder cohesion metrics,” throw a biscuit at them and ask them to start again in English. Encourage managers to step outside the safety of their scripts and say, “Actually, we don’t know yet,” or, “No, this isn’t working.”
Because when you’re running a charity that’s one donation away from closing, or a business that’s one rent increase away from folding, you haven’t got time to decode five pages of buzzwords. You want someone to listen, to speak plainly, and maybe even to admit they don’t have all the answers.
And if that makes you “difficult,” then pour yourself a virtual coffee and wear the badge with pride.
If we want honest leadership and meaningful support, we’ll need to start demanding it from those still hiding behind the curtain of curated language. Especially the ones who’ve just “restructured for impact” and conveniently removed every local contact who ever gave a damn. Let’s stop pretending the script is sacred because the rest of us burnt ours long ago.
And that’s why more and more people have stopped waiting for these organisations and departments to get their act together. They’re rebuilding from the ground up, the old-fashioned way, with real relationships, straight talk, and practical action. Communities like this one aren’t just filling the gaps left by all the vanished area leaders and accountability, they’re showing how it should have been done all along. No fluff, no faceless bureaucracy, just people doing the work, the right way this time. With conviction, clarity, and absolutely no need for a stakeholder mapping exercise.
Photo by Merve Sehirli Nasir
