Voluntary Action Fund banging a cracked kettle on equality

Mark and Helen Mullins

The 'third sector' is a strange under-explored world in Scotland, and is home, according to the Scottish Council of Voluntary Organisations [SCVO], to over 137,000 employees and spending £4.4 billion a year.  Parts of it do wonderful, incredible work, and a lot of the organisations operate in the ghettos and gulags of our society where the public sector rarely ventures, bringing comfort, humanity and dignity to people who have slipped through the few remaining fragile fingers of safety society now grudgingly offers in the shape of a government-ravaged care and support system.  I have blogged elsewhere about the decision of Mark & Helen Mullins to kill themselves in October 2011, rather than face another winter of poverty even Dickens would have found beyond his powers of description.  It is sometimes difficult to work out if the economy will topple off the cliff first, just before the shredded safety net of care and support finally bursts under the impossible weight of the tens of thousands of people who now survive, just, on food parcel handouts.


It is true that the 'third sector' does sometimes heroic work.  I have witnessed it, both when I worked in it and when I was on the Boards of a number of its many organisations.  I also know that not all in the sector live up to that heroic standard.  I have blogged before about a friend, bullied out of her job in a voluntary organisation which works for disabled people.  I know of some organisations where the integrity of financial management was not a million miles removed from that which was to be commonly found in the money markets and banks of 2007 before the crash of 2008.  I know of organisations who still think of disabled people as 'problems to be solved' and not simply accepted for who they are.  The sector is like the rest of the world - chock-a-block full of the sometimes great, the often good, the regrettably useless and the occasionally dangerous.


As a citizen, I reckon too many of our organisations are not properly held to account for what they do [and equally for what they don't do, but should] and have become accustomed to working away in the darkness which descends when good governance and scrutiny goes on a long holiday.  From time to time the work of an organisation catches my attention.  I switch on the headlights and take a long, hard, look.


One of the more recent to be caught in my headlights is something called Voluntary Action Fund [VAF].  The main reason it caught my eye was the number of colleagues working in the equalities field who were required to dance to a strange tune called by VAF who in turn dance to an all too familiar tune whistled by the government's own Equality Unit.  Their testimony made me think VAF could, in that time-honoured phrase, be part of the problem and not part of the answer.


I started by asking a number of questions which aimed to establish just what VAF were doing, why, and how much of a difference it was making.


The kind of questions I asked included :

Keith Wimbles, Chief Executive
of  Voluntary Action Fund

Part of the funding [to voluntary organisations] appears to come from government via VAF. I am at a loss as to why. Could you please explain why there is a need to filter/channel funds from the government’s Equality Unit through VAF and what added value I as a citizen gain from that arrangement, as I presume the role of VAF is also funded by government and thus the funding for VAF has to be top-sliced from that available for the voluntary sector?  

This was just one of the questions I put to Keith Wimbles, Chief Executive of VAF.  He chose not to answer that question.


On another tack I asked:

I would also appreciate sight of any quantitative evidence VAF has on how its funding to other bodies has helped citizens lead lives free of discrimination, access more equality of opportunity and encounter greater understanding and tolerance even though they are different?

The response I got to that ? :

Reports from funded organisations on what has been achieved against specific outcomes and an evaluation of VAF’s performance are sent to the Scottish Government as the funding agency. 

Which translates, roughly, as 'piss off we are not telling'.


Overall I have found it difficult to shine much of a light on the workings of VAF and to find out just what difference VAF makes to the lives of people.  The cupboard door behind which this information is to be found is being kept resolutely closed and the mushrooms, from the quality of answers I have received, are clearly flourishing.


There appears to be a strong reluctance on the part of VAF to be transparent and accountable to citizens and those who might be seen as beneficiaries of any work being done on equalities.


Have a look for yourself.  Try to find out what VAF [email Keith Wimbles via this link] does and what difference it makes to the lives and needs of your sister, brother, your mother, father, or your lover - all of whom might need society to better recognise their diversity and be comfortable with them being different.  It was said, long ago, by Gustave Flaubert, that :

'Human language is like a cracked kettle on which we beat out tunes for bears to dance to, when all the time we are longing to move the stars to pity'

Maybe it is because I am deaf, but the cracked kettle being used by VAF to beat out a tune for the organisations it funds to dance to would find even Fred Astaire and Flavia Cacace scratching their heads.  If you do find out the difference VAF makes and why your sister, brother, your mother, father, or your lover benefit, please send it on to me and I will publish it here so that others can be better informed.

Nicola Sturgeon

If you can't find it out, get in touch with Nicola Sturgeon, who carries equalities in her bag, and ask her to take the cracked kettle away from VAF.