I’ve been thinking about this a lot as I prepare for a Staff Development and Wellbeing Workshop for the Hopestead Grantee Support Programme.
Mostly because I know the reality leaders in small charities and social enterprises are working in right now: stretched funding, increasing demand and the constant pressure to do more with less. So this isn’t a piece about adding another priority to your list. If anything, it’s the opposite. It’s about noticing what’s already there – and doing it with more intentionality..
Because one of the things I’ve consistently seen is this: small organisations are often doing more right on culture than they give themselves credit for.
Not in a polished, “Wellbeing Policy” kind of way. But in the day-to-day reality of how people show up for each other.
- Flexibility is often the default, even if it’s not written down.
- People are open to learning and developing new skills.
- There’s usually more instinct to collaborate than compete.
- And when it comes to people, yes, it’s not always perfect and they’re stretched—but if you ask, people are there for you.
That last part matters more than we sometimes acknowledge.
When I found myself in a CEO role in a small social enterprise working in homelessness prevention, I assumed my worth would come from my experience in the sector. That I would “know what to do.” That I would bring expertise.
What actually stretched me – and, if I’m honest, what I got most of my energy from – was something else entirely.
Learning how to lead and create organisational culture.
And more specifically, doing the work on myself to become the kind of leader who could create the kind of organisation I wanted to be part of.
That work wasn’t always comfortable. It meant actively seeking out feedback, even when I knew it might be difficult to hear. Exit interviews. 360 reviews. Reading, research. And, at times, very very direct and even brutal, conversations.
You know when an organisation is truly psychologically safe, because people tell you what they really think.
Not just the easy stuff. The inconvenient, frustrating, sometimes painful truths.
For me, focusing on culture didn’t start as a strategy. It wasn’t about performance metrics or organisational growth. If I’m honest again, part of it was because I didn’t yet feel confident in how to “develop the business” in the way I thought I should.
Looking back, I now think I hid behind culture because that was the bit I found easier and therefore enjoyed more. This comes back to my career to date and working with people in incredibly difficult situations – seeing those situations improve because of what they’ve done is the biggest professional kick.
But more than that, it was because I wanted to build a place I would actually want to work.
- A place where people felt respected, included and able to thrive.
- Not as a means to an end—but as an end in itself.
There’s a tension here that I think is worth naming.
From the outside, there’s often an assumption that charities and social enterprises are naturally good at “people stuff.” That because the mission is values-driven, the internal culture must be too.
But the reality can be more complicated.
When your purpose is urgent and your funding is tight, it’s very easy for focus to shift almost entirely onto beneficiaries. The people you exist to help. And rightly so, in many ways.
But I’ve seen – and been part of – how that can sometimes come at the expense of the people doing the work.
Not intentionally. Not because people don’t care. But because time, energy and attention are finite – and often there are fewer KPIs relating to your team.
And this is where I think something like “hyperbolic discounting” comes into play.
We prioritise what feels urgent and visible now, and deprioritise what feels longer-term or less tangible.
Culture. Wellbeing. Inclusion.
They’re easy to push down the list because the impact isn’t always immediate or measurable in the same way.
But in small organisations especially, the cost of that delay adds up quickly.
Because culture isn’t something separate from the work. It is the work.
You can see this in what many organisations are already doing, often without naming them as such.
- Flexibility built around people’s lives.
- Roles shaped around strengths.
- Different communication styles being accommodated.
- An openness – however imperfect – to listening and adapting.
We might now call some of this neuro-inclusive practice. But in many cases, it’s simply what has evolved out of necessity, proximity, humanity and care.
At the same time, it would be unrealistic not to acknowledge the context.
Funding is harder to secure. Competition for grants has increased. And recent sector data suggests a drop in the proportion of social enterprises making a profit – from around 48% to closer to 40% in the last year.
Under that kind of pressure, it makes sense that culture and wellbeing can feel like luxuries.
But I don’t think they are.
And not because they improve the bottom line – although they often do, but because they are the right thing to do.
The challenge, I think, is that much of this work is already happening – but it’s happening implicitly.
It’s not named. Not codified. Not shared.
And if we don’t name it, we can’t intentionally build on it. We can’t replicate it. And we risk losing it when people move on.
So perhaps the starting point isn’t “what more should we do?”
But something simpler.
What are we already doing that’s worth naming?
Where are we building culture by accident?
And what might change if we started to treat that work as the work?