For most of my life my instinct has been to run, not walk. To build things, start projects, solve problems and push forward with ideas, usually at breakneck speed. Slowing down has never come naturally to me. But in 2024 my body and mind more or less insisted that I stop.
And in hindsight, stopping was probably one of the most important things I have done in a long time. Because it stripped things back. It made me quieter. More reflective. Much more intentional about where I spend my energy.
So 2025 became, for me, a year of listening.
I spent more time in real rooms with real people. Sitting around town council tables. Working with our Business Improvement District. Taking part in conversations about high streets, arts and culture, regeneration and the future of our towns.
I spoke with small business owners about their hopes and worries for the years ahead. I listened to grassroots change-makers who quietly keep communities going even when funding is uncertain. People who show up week after week because they care deeply about the places they live and the people around them.
During that time I also stepped into a national role as an independent IQAP panel member for Rape Crisis England and Wales. That work reconnected me with the Violence Against Women and Girls sector. The work they do is often delivered under intense strain, yet it remains some of the most vital and courageous work taking place in our society.
Across all of these spaces, both locally and nationally, I kept noticing the same pattern.
Extraordinary people doing incredibly important work, often carrying enormous responsibility without the resources or support that would make that work sustainable.
Community leaders. Frontline services. Grassroots organisations.
People who are, quite literally, holding the social fabric of our communities together.
When those structures weaken, the consequences travel much further than we tend to realise. Communities rely on networks of trust, belonging and shared responsibility that are not always visible but are deeply important. When those networks begin to fray, the effects ripple outward.
Over the past year those ripples have become more visible.
We have seen protests outside hotels housing asylum seekers. We have seen far right marches appearing in places that once felt immune to that kind of politics. We have seen communities struggling with tensions around identity, belonging and the future of their towns.
For those of us who hold progressive values, love our country, believe in pride of place and also believe deeply in fairness, equality and inclusion; it feels complicated. Those values should not be in opposition. Yet it is clear that the tension running through many communities today is real.
Over the past year I kept returning to one question.
How do we strengthen the social fabric of our communities rather than watch it slowly unravel?
Because when people do not feel that sense of belonging, something else tends to fill the gap. Anger. Fear. Hopelessness. And sometimes movements that offer simple yet divisive answers to complex problems.
Shouting at one another across social media is unlikely to rebuild trust or belonging. If anything, it often deepens the sense of division.
Rebuilding the foundations underneath our communities might.
Alongside a year of listening, I also spent time learning, exploring civic technology and artificial intelligence. After supporting the launch of an AI and democracy network in 2023, I have continued watching the rapid development of these tools with both curiosity and caution. The question that interested me most was not simply how powerful these technologies might become, but how they might shape civic life and how can they be used for the good of communities and humanity.
Could technology strengthen civic life rather than weaken it? Could digital tools help grassroots organisations collaborate more easily, support dialogue and shared learning and reach the people who need them most?
In asking these questions I found some brilliant co-conspirators who feel the same. People working at the intersection of community development, civic infrastructure and responsible technology.
And so at the end of 2025, I went back to something I’ve always loved doing.
Building things from the ground up.
Together we launched Fabric – Centre for Change
Based on a simple belief: strong communities don’t happen by accident. They are supported by people, relationships and civic infrastructure that allow places to thrive. Too often the individuals and organisations doing that work are expected to carry enormous responsibility without the support, tools or networks that could make their efforts more sustainable.
So the aim of Fabric is supporting grassroots leaders. Connect change-makers. Using technology and AI responsibly to strengthen community activity rather than fragment them. Creating spaces where people feel seen, heard and involved in shaping their towns; provide tools to reduce administrative burden and increase fundraising and organisational capacity.
After a year of learning, listening and reflecting, it felt like the right moment to speak again.
And more importantly, to start building.
The challenges facing communities across the country are not small, and no single organisation will solve them alone. But if we want stronger, more connected communities in the future, we will need to invest again in the relationships, networks and institutions that quietly sustain them.
In other words, we will need to rebuild the social fabric that allows communities to flourish.
I am still very much in listening mode. If you are someone working to strengthen your community, I would genuinely love to hear about what you are seeing where you live.
What is bringing people together?
Where are the threads becoming stronger, and where are they beginning to fray?
Those conversations feel more important now than ever.