The power of the individual fascinates me. Before I worked at the Millennium Commission, I had always worked with organisations. I believed that they were the ones with power, with the capacity to effect change and make a difference. At the Millennium Commission this belief was exposed in all its falsehood. The Commission was a lottery distributor, probably best known for its role in backing the Millennium Dome, perhaps also for its funding of Tate Modern and the Eden Project. For a quick summary of what it achieved, visit here. The Commission gave away £2.3 billion, to village halls and church bells, mountain railways and new town squares, festivals and millennium beacons. But hardly anyone knew about the £100 million it gave to individuals to undertake projects that would benefit themselves and their communities. There were some 32,000 of these Millennium Award winners, youngest 7, oldest 97, scattered all over the United Kingdom. My job was to try and create a network that would keep them together once their projects had finished. It involved me making a lot of speeches (the best network, I reckon, is geographical and one that gives people the chance to meet up face to face). This gave me the opportunity to meet hundreds, if not thousands, of the Award winners and hear their stories. What extraordinary stories. The things that people had overcome. The things that they achieved. They took my breath away. And from the virtue of a small amount funding (on average £2,500 for a one year project), many went off to raise many thousands more. I remember one Award winner who came up to me and said "Because of the money you gave me, the way it made me feel, the recognition you showed me, I went out and raised another £350,000". But regardless of the money they raised, every single one of them had done something extraordinary. It completely changed the way I saw individuals, what they could achieve, the impact they could have. For a fascinating set of insights on the Millennium Awards Scheme, read the Social Impact Study by Annabel Jackson. Most of the Award winners thought they had made little difference, affected very few people. Yet on average, they reached 2,500 people - on average. One of the quotes I used to give was one from Martin Luther King: "Before you've finished breakfast this morning, you've depended on half the world." I'm intrigued by the idea of how connected we are, and yet how unaware we are of this. Of how our actions have huge impact, often on people we will never meet. Again, Martin Luther King expresses it far more articulately; "We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly." I tried to get the Award winners to think about this by pointing out to them that I told their stories to many others, who would in turn repeat these to more.
I've been thinking about this again because I read a letter in the Spinal Injuries Association's magazine. If you're driving and run low on petrol, you can have a problem if you're in a wheelchair. You can't get out of the car to fill up. More importantly, if you have no cash, how do you pay? Many places won't accept cheques now. You can't give the attendant your card and PIN number (I asked the bank. They said if I did, and then money was stolen, I'd be completely liable). The SIA letter mentioned signature cards, which I'd never heard of. Great, in that you don't have to have a PIN number. Not so great in that all your cards then become signature only, so you can't use PIN in shops any more. And when a counter is too high to sign on... So it's an all or nothing: have signature card and lose all your PINs, or be unable to pay for petrol sometimes (and remember to always carry cash with you). I'm not on for all or nothing. So I've been speaking to managers at First Direct to see if there's some kind of compromise available, perhaps having a separate emergency account with a signature card. I'm sure I'm not the only one in this situation. I know I'm not. So, the lengthy point I'm trying (somewhat laboriously) to make is that I'm sure the guy who wrote the letter to SIA has no idea that his words may modify the banking system in some small way.
The power of the individual... Later that day, I saw how powerless the individual can be - the other side of the coin. I spoke to a friend who's in a bad way, talking about suicide, ending it all. I don't think they're at the stage when they will actually do something. But if they do, there's absolutely nothing I can do to stop them. He's got to realise that his life is worth keeping. I can tell him how much I value him, his presence, but ultimately, it's up to him. I am powerless. A humbling thought.
