Like many members of the Tory tribe, I’ve struggled with the Big Society doctrine. As with the doctrine of the Holy Trinity there have been moments when I thought I’d grasped it, but upon being asked to explain it to somebody else, found that it had given me the slip again. After an impassioned Cameron interview I’ve been enthused — but then, challenged to justify my enthusiasm to a sceptic, faltered.
Unlike the doctrine of the Trinity, the Big Society philosophy is not arcane. It’s a homely pudding made of voluntarism, local knowledge, local democracy, self-help, civicmindedness, community spirit — and a dash of strawberry jam (homemade) thrown in. But there’s a theme to this pudding: that we take responsibility for ourselves and for the people around us and the places where we live. It’s what I was brought up to believe.
No, my difficulty is not with the idea, but the extent of its possible application in a 21st-century, hi-tech, IT-savvy and super-mobile modern society in which the moment you try to organise anything involving other people you run into problems with health and safety, child protection, nationwide standards, insurance and employers’ liability. Obviously there’s a bit of scope for people to do a bit more for each other, and rely a bit less on the state — but how much more, and could this really make a serious dent on all the big, expensive things the central state or local county council does, like health, education, social services and the care of the elderly?
Rant over. Because, little by little, and like a virus, the Big Society idea has lodged itself insidiously in my mind; so that now, everywhere I go, I start to see small — mark that word ‘small’ — examples of things that actually could be done closer to the ground, by and for the people who know about them and need them.

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