The big charity umbrella

In the disability charity sector, Peter White observes that to merge or not to merge, has suddenly become a major question

Disability organisations are beginning to wonder whether they should be sheltering under a bigger umbrella; or, to put it rather more cynically, the bigger ones are wondering how they can round up some of the smaller ones, to increase their clout and, they would say, make the sector more coherent and politically persuasive.

A recent spat in the blind sector has illustrated the dilemmas quite well. For some time the RNIB, undeniably the biggest player in the field, has made no secret of its view that there are far too many organisations around, that it’s confusing for client and potential donor alike, and that more mergers – or whatever more emollient word you want to call it – would strengthen their voice at the negotiating table. They’ve already gathered Action for Blind people, The Talking Newspaper Association, and a few others under their wing.

But Guide Dogs have always been the big prize, especially in the fundraising game. Their message – brave dog protects helpless blind person – has always been so beloved of the British public, it would have any fundraiser worth their salt slavering. What a pity the RNIB turned down the idea when they were first offered it in the 1930s.

The RNIB thinks far closer co-operation between the organisations is a “must” and their executive director has described Guide Dogs as “insular” for spurning their advances.

In many other disability charities across the board, I know that similar discus­sions are taking place as organis­ations look to see who they could get into bed with who would be compat­ible, whilst agreeing to share the work and the bills. And indeed, these proposed marriages could become even more radical as increasingly vocal figures from the old disability lobby are tempering their former hostility to “charities” or “for the” organisations, and suggesting that those old enmities should be a thing of the past. Johnny Crescendo, former advocate of direct action by disabled people, and whose anti-charities slogan was “piss on pity”, is only the latest to suggest that it’s time for disabled people and their allies to bury the hatchet, not in each other, but in perceived opponents.

The fact is, old assumptions are under a strong political attack (and don’t kid yourselves that this is politically polarised; there’s precious little in the Government’s current agenda that Labour wouldn’t sign up to; why do you think they’ve been so quiet on this subject). In some ways, our messages of self-sufficiency and ability have been too successful. Suddenly (or perhaps not so suddenly), vulnerable people in a ruthless workplace are just swinging the lead.

Perhaps we do need to get together to counter these ideas, rather than spending a lot of time moving the disability organisational furniture about. I suspect it’s ideas that are needed to save this situation, not changing logos.