Working People’s Clubs

I loved my time at university, I really did. Not the boozing and ample free-time (don’t get me wrong these were great) but the times spent in communal areas: the communal kitchen, the college gym, the sports field, the food hall, the bar, the library and the formal dinners. These were genuine communal spaces where you could enjoy other people’s company, interact with people outside of your direct peer group and have conversations that went beyond mere information exchange. What’s more, these were spaces not dominated by markets, your very presence there was not predicated on you having to buy drinks or food. These were communal spaces, free at the point of use and genuinely conducive to happiness – great!

Sadly, since moving to London I have only come across one place where this has been re-created. As a supposed left-wing hamster I am ashamed to admit it was during a visit to a member’s only club. The RAC club, apart from being an amazing example of early 20^th Century architecture, is a genuine communal space for its members with a gym, squash courts, a swimming pool, baths, a dining area with reasonably priced food, dining rooms, games rooms, several bars and quieter reading rooms. The club also had genuine sports clubs, societies and a series of events that mean it is a living, breathing organisation that goes beyond its bricks and mortar.

But here’s the catch, it’s not really open to the public. You have to know someone who is already a member to apply and the cost, according to Wikipedia, is an entry fee of £2,900 and an annual fee of £1,265. 

Society used to have something that was more affordable, not as fancy (but who needs it to be?) and arguably more embedded in their communities. These were Working Men’s Clubs, essentially a type of private social club first created in the 19th century in the industrial areas of the United Kingdom. Mentioning the term, I find, usually brings out two reactions: either unfamiliarity or a negative reaction, due to these places being perceived as hotbeds of –isms (racism, chauvinism, homophobia) and heavy drinking. I wanted to use this blog post to explore whether there is an opportunity to re-capture the idea of the Working People’s Club (i.e. a modern, fit for purpose, financially viable club that is accessible to all). I want to understand why we, as a society, haven’t invested in such communal spaces that could so obviously make us happier. Below, I present 4 reasons why today presents a great opportunity to re-introduce the idea. I also have a brief look at how we might go about doing so.

(1) Our communal spaces are not fit for purpose – today’s communal spaces include religious institutions, pubs, libraries, sports clubs, community centres and parks. But none of them are really fit for purpose. Religious institutions are irrelevant to those who don't hold religious beliefs (today religion is in decline in the UK, with 71% of people saying religion does not occupy an important place in their life). Our pubs, another traditional bastion of community focus, are closing at a rate of 18 a week, with 4,800 closing since 2008 . The ones that do tend to survive have formulaic business models that are financially sound but fall short of being positive communal spaces – and would definitely fall short of George Orwell’s idea of the ideal pub. The state provided community, leisure and youth centres are, in my mind, generally hit-or-miss and have suffered from years of underinvestment. They are indispensable in offering vital public services but they are not a communal space where people can flourish and mingle with a cross-section of society. That said, I do know several sports clubs and community arts clubs that continue to thrive e.g. my former local hockey club Indian Gymkhana in Osterly

(2) Austerity is an opportunity – every day we hear about the failure of high streets and the closure of our libraries, pubs and churches. These are easily reached spaces in the centre of our towns and cities, that have historically been used as communal areas and that are sadly sitting vacant today!

(3) Thatcher’s Britain has become a reality – my friends from the north tell me it is different up there, and that people still have a sense of community. In London, I cannot help feeling that Thatcher’s phrase “there is no such thing as society” (probably taken out of context) has become a self-fulfilling prophecy. I do not believe for a minute that strong-arming people into community activities is the way forward. However, I do believe that when we have conversations, when we share space and ideas freely we feel better connected with others (and hence happier) and feel part of something bigger (and even happier). Whilst we converse with friends, family and colleagues, these conversations can be fraught with complications due to hierarchies and dependencies and can mean that we never see the world from a different point of view!

(4) The rise of the member’s club (for the rich) – no need to go into detail here, but clubs for the rich are growing from strength to strength as this article highlights.

So, if you are with me at this point, you have seen how communal spaces have the potential to make us happier, how the well-off have access to such spaces and that today could be a really good time to reintroduce affordable communal spaces like Working People’s Clubs.

But what would these places look like? Who would run them? Were there valid reasons why they died out in the first place? Are people even interested in “community” today?

Let’s take the last question first. As someone who was very sceptical about the notion for a long time, “community” is a word I’ve only really been interested in recently. This is not through some high-minded ideal about engaging with my fellow citizen, but through a belief that it can help us pursue individual happiness. In fact, I would say there are dangers in trying to recreate the past instead of taking lessons from it. These two talks by philosopher Theodore Zeldin (Conversation in the Pub and Conversation Bus) tackle this exact issue. Past institutions including schools, clubs and small towns have not always been geared to the happiness of everyone. Zeldin suggests that this is because of over familiarity and everyone "knowing your business" as well as the innate social hierarchy linked to these “small” environments. Acknowledging this is definitely one part of the challenge in pioneering the new wave of Working People's Clubs. However, well run clubs which place emphasis on creating conversation amongst equals can tackle such concerns.

The other parts of the challenge are how to create a place where people want to go on a weekly basis that is affordable, is convenient in our “busy” lives and genuinely improves levels of well-being. In my mind, such a club would have to have the following:

1. Rooms: a bar, a gym (or at least an affiliation with one) and a quieter functional space for debates, comedy and community or small business meetings; 
2. Governance: good full-time employed management and an active, local membership who make decisions about how the club is run;
3. Activities: membership-led sports and hobby clubs; societies; and events such as talks, debates, comedy and dinners;
4. Services: some link to local services that could make it more convenient to attend e.g. childcare, dry cleaning, provision of affordable and healthy meals, transport links.

It would be a place where people could go after work to fit in a gym session, or meet up with friends, or perhaps to watch a talk / debate instead of slumping in front of the TV for the evening. Members would run events and societies as a way of offsetting their membership fees. It could be a genuine place to network locally (not just for business types) and for the more experienced members to informally mentor less experienced members.

Of course this is not cheap. Hard work would need to go in to raising finance, choosing a suitable location and making upfront membership fees affordable and potentially variable according to income. That said, this is not impossible – it just needs action from a sufficiently thoughtful and committed group of people. Already, people are experimenting with some success. The Oxford Muse runs dinners and have taken over some High Street spaces and an atheist church in Islington is another pretty interesting idea.

The original working men’s clubs were steeped in ideological foresight – as can be seen in the pamphlet here. At the time, the cause was education and improving the lives of the industrialised masses. Now it is a much simpler cause – making the autonomous, isolated lives of city dwellers much happier. If you’re with me, I would be greatful if you could please take the time to answer my questions below. Who knows, maybe we can take this thing forward?

Questions

1. If a Working People’s Club, described as above, opened up locally would you go there on a weekly basis?
2. Would you want to be involved in the running and setting up of a Working People’s Club?
3. What rooms and functions do you think would benefit such a Club?
4. How much would you pay annually for such a club (in return for a gym, subsidised food and drink and the opportunity to hire rooms and partake in events)?