I walked past a pub not far from where I live yesterday which had a handwritten sign on the door which said "Regulars Only."
Lots of thoughts went through my head, starting with "I really need to move to a better area." But I also wondered how you go about becoming a regular. Perhaps I'd need to fill in an application form, and then be interviewed by a panel of regulars, who'd quiz me on specific gravities and the merits of Nobbys Nuts.
First impressions, as they say, last. In the late 90's I had a couple of years where I was working part-time at Asda House, and part-time at a fairtrade shop. Asda's transformation during that period was based largely on the "Asda Way" of serving customers - which was developed by their then boss Archie Norman, and his mate Julian Richer - founder of the legendary retailer Richer Sounds. Richer had written a book called The Richer Way - outlining his take on customer service. I thought it was brilliant. Lots of simple, common sense things you could do to serve your customers better.
One of the things he encourages you to do is look at the first messages your customers get when they walk through your door. They're usually things like Shoplifters will be prosecuted, Smile - You're on CCTV, No Food, No Drink, No Ice Creams, No Unaccompanied Children, No, No, No, No, No.
Many organisations in the third and public sectors are no better. Community Centre doors are usually plastered with out of date posters and pictures of what look like fugitives but on closer inspection are ward councillors. And last week I went to a Youth Centre which had a sign on the door which said that if you're under 18 please don't come in as they're now only funded to work with 18-25 year olds.
And I'd suggest that too many organisations which serve a particular community have a symbolic "Regulars Only" sign on their door. How often do you come across organisations which claim to serve/represent their community, but who in reality come into regular contact with perhaps 20% of that community? It's a tough one to get right, but it's all too easy to fall into the trap of thinking that you speak for a "community" when in reality you only speak for a part of it.
Hmmm, I have an odd memory on the 'regulars-only'. As a Scot newly arrived in London in the 1970s I had never before seen such a thing and often had some whimsical thoughts on what went on behind those doors. Mostly it was about an imagined cosy, couthy, world of admitted intimates and social networkers of the sort that would get-your-round-if-they-saw-you-were-short.
This was reinforced when for awhile I was regularly in the Holloway area when it was 'all Irish' and before regeneration. Then, outside pubs I would see comical little hand-written notes stating things like "Shaun is barred for one week" or "Michael Devlin will not be given credit in here". This I took to be evidence that my imagined world was real and had its own conventions.
Then in the horrid late Thatcher 80s, I returned to London to visit friends in Hackney. As we were out and about one evening I saw a Hackney pub with a neatly printed, laminated 'regulars only' on display. I suggested to my mate we should all go in there 'to see what it's really like'. He looked at me in an unimpressed way, asking why would I want to go into "one of that lot's pubs?".
My rose-tinted imaginings were shattered when it was explained to by my cosmopolitan and London-wise mate that 'regulars only' was an updated (and more publically acceptable) version of the notorious 1960s notices stating "No Blacks, Irish or dogs".
There's a lesson in there about how communities feeling themselves threatened and marginalised can react with excluding networks and the 'wrong' sort of social capital... I think.
Posted by: edward harkins | July 14, 2008 at 03:05 PM
Thanks Edward. I don't mean to sound naive but I'd kind of hoped that it wasn't a modern equivalent of those 60s signs, partly because I can't believe anyone would think they'd get away with that these days, even if that's what they think. But I think you're probably right.
Your point about excluding networks is a good one too.
Posted by: Rob Greenland | July 14, 2008 at 04:40 PM
Hospitality and conviviality asre two critical charactersitics of great 'social capital'. The inability of many boozers and community centres to keep building and refreshing their social capital is certainly one factor behind the staleness that sometimes creeps in.
Passion and purpose gets gradually overtaken by the 'system'.
Posted by: Mike Chitty | July 15, 2008 at 08:19 AM
I’m coming back to this because I’m worried that I may have come across as unjustifiably criticizing Rob as naive or criticizing the concept of social capital.
On the first point it was my own earlier naivety I was pointing up. On the second point that Mike Chitty made about boozers and community centres not building and renewing their social capital – in the case of community centres I think the experiences and reasons for that are pretty well known to most of us.
However, on Mike’s point about boozers, I have wondered if this is a practical example of the aggressive pursuit of financial capital diminishing social capital… possibly to the long-run detriment of both.
A boozer that I long used was owned and managed by Hinneman, an individual entrepreneur. The whole establishment reeked of smoky formica paneled, outdated, early 1960s. Food was a basic matter of sandwiches or pies.
Hinneman was no philanthropist or soft-touch, but every run up to Christmas he could be seen going about the pub handing out cloakroom tickets with his name on the back. There was no seeming order, rhyme nor reason as to when he gave these out or to whom. Nor do I recall him ever explaining or advertising what they were about.
You just somehow knew you were fortunate to get one –because they were your invite to the "regulars' Christmas Party".
The arrangement was that you had to be in the pub lounge “by eight o’clock or you’re out”. There was a live semi-pro band, a free pint and a ‘dinner’ (that was small portion pie, peas and chips, or gammon, peas or chips – on a paper plate).
It was a stroke of marketing genius. On the night, customers must have more than paid back the hospitality by the amount they spent on the whole evening. Everyone, me included, all year round spoke reverently of our local and the hospitality of the host. The event regularly figured in the local press – going by the number of people who claimed to be at the event it must have been bigger than T-in-the-Park.
The point was that everyone concerned, without knowing it, was investing social capital, and getting a handsome return according with their desires. Hinneman carefully crafted his ‘social capital investment’ alongside his financial input and he garnered a significant return on both.
Eventually Hinneman sold out for a handsome return to the big brewers. The establishment was closed awhile for a massive (what we now call) make-over. It then added a decent selection of wines and did ‘proper’ meals. The outcome? It flopped, never made much of a profit and has changed hands several times, all the times going downhill. It is now owned... wait for it... by our local long-standing, and very affluent, Labour MP. He heads a Labour family dynasty and rakes in a small fortune out of his MP’s salary and other entitlements and perks as a Whip in Westminster.
There is no reason whatever to visit this pub. Last time we were in it, as soon as the ‘drink-up’ bell was rung by the barman (a young cousin of the Labour MP) the lights were dimmed and the doors were jammed wide open on a cold November night.
The result now is a place largely lacking social capital and significantly under-performing with regards to financial-return-from-assets
Posted by: Edward Harkins | July 16, 2008 at 11:59 AM
Good story Edward. I didn't think you were suggesting I was naive - I was saying so myself - I think it was wishful thinking - wanting my local area to be better than it is.
Your story made me think of the pub is the hub campaign
http://www.pubisthehub.org.uk/pithlive/index.html
You can't beat a good local, and they're increasingly hard to come by. Cheers was such a popular comedy because of great writing and acting - but also because the idea of a bar where everybody knows your name is something many of us long for.
Posted by: Rob Greenland | July 17, 2008 at 07:33 PM