Social Enterprise: We're Not Free, We Charge a Fee

Art work Jen Samani

"A charity dollar has only one life; a Social Business dollar can be invested over and over again." — Muhammad Yunus Founder of Grameen Bank

Reflections from the Proper Good Social Enterprise Deep Dive Evaluation Session

I attended the recent Deep Dive evaluation session as both a participant and as a mentor within the Proper Good Social Enterprise initiative, supporting individuals who were either starting with an idea or in the early stages of setting up a social enterprise.

My role over the past few years has been to help people navigate the landscape — not just the practical steps of setting up, but the deeper terrain of shifting from idea to reality, and from intention to something that can actually sustain itself in the world.

I was also there in my capacity as part of Our Happiness Factor CIC, which has given me a grounded perspective on the lived experience of trying to hold purpose, people and viability together at the same time.

As the programme enters its final year, the evaluation session felt less like a formal review and more like a collective sense-making space — a chance for those of us involved over the past four years to reflect honestly on what has unfolded, what has shifted, and what is emerging next.

“We’re not free, we charge a fee.”

This phrase surfaced during the session and stayed with me throughout.

It wasn’t said defensively, but truthfully — almost as something we sometimes need to hear out loud.

Because in the space of social enterprise, there is often a subtle but persistent tension: the expectation that because the work is purpose-led, it should somehow be accessible in a way that quietly assumes low or no cost.

Yet the reality for many of us in the room is very different.

We are not operating hobbies.

We are not informal projects.

We are building organisations that sit inside real economic systems, with real responsibilities.

As discussions unfolded, I found myself sitting with this idea more deeply and eventually forming a simple but striking thought:

“We’re not for free, we charge a fee.”

It landed as more than a phrase — it felt like something that could potentially evolve into a wider social enterprise campaign, helping to raise awareness of the reality, value and labour behind the work that social entrepreneurs carry. Not as a defensive statement, but as a reframing of expectation, value and sustainability in purpose-led work.

A way of making visible the often unseen effort behind social impact — and of reinforcing the need for that work to be properly recognised, resourced and respected.

Holding people through transition — and the cost of that work

In my mentoring role, I’ve sat with people at the point where an idea is just beginning to take shape, and also with those who have already launched but are trying to make sense of what comes next.

What becomes clear very quickly is that the work is not just technical. It is deeply relational, emotional and structural.

People are often trying to move beyond their current reality — financially, personally, and systemically — while still being rooted in it.

That kind of transition work carries weight. And it carries cost.

One of the most honest reflections in the session was the recognition that many social enterprises undercharge, over-give, and absorb pressure in ways that are not sustainable long-term.

But if that continues indefinitely, it doesn’t create impact — it erodes it.

Charging properly is not about stepping away from purpose. It is about protecting the conditions that allow purpose to continue.

It also means recognising what is actually being offered: lived experience, facilitation, relational work, community insight, trust-building, and the ability to work in complexity where traditional models often struggle.

These are not secondary skills. They are central.

Beyond individual organisations

Another strong thread in the conversation was the sense that we are no longer just talking about individual enterprises in isolation.

There was a wider recognition of the growing ecosystem forming around initiatives like the Community Wealth Building Fund, which continues to shape thinking around how wealth can be retained and circulated within place rather than extracted from it.

Alongside this, the Proper Good Business Club was seen as an important peer space — somewhere for connection, shared learning and honest conversation between people who are all navigating similar tensions in different ways. It also felt significant that this space brings together private, public and social enterprise voices — creating a rare environment where different parts of the economic landscape can meet, collaborate, and take time to understand each other rather than operate in isolation.

From where I sit, these elements are increasingly interconnected. They are part of a wider shift toward thinking about enterprise not just as individual survival, but as part of a living local system.

A reflection that stayed with me afterwards

A couple of years ago, I created a programme called Creating the Future for Fun and Profit as part of the Proper Good Social Enterprise initiative. It was designed to help people explore what profit actually is, what it isn’t, and to consider whether we are navigating the future from wisdom, creativity and possibility — or from fear and limitation.

It also invited participants to stretch their thinking beyond narrow definitions of income within social enterprise, and to look more broadly at how value is created, exchanged and sustained, while also encouraging them to move beyond their current thinking and explore what might become possible if those perceived constraints were loosened.

After the evaluation session, it brought two reflections forward for me.

The first is curiosity about whether there would be an appetite to deliver that programme again — and if so, how people would show up to it now. Not just in terms of content, but in terms of readiness. Have perspectives shifted enough that there is now more openness to those conversations around value, income and possibility within purpose-led work?

The second reflection is more personal, and came from quietly reviewing the past few years of work.

I started to notice just how much has been given freely over time — volunteering, mentoring, facilitating, contributing to boards, running workshops, and supporting initiatives where the return was never financial, but rooted in trust in the work itself and the people involved.

When I began to map it out, even loosely, the scale of time invested was significant. Some of it was a conscious contribution. Other parts were absorbed naturally into the rhythm of being involved in things that mattered.

What became important wasn’t the figure itself, but the clearer awareness of how value flows — where it is given freely, where it is intentional, and where it may need more conscious boundaries in order to remain sustainable.

One example that feels particularly meaningful is the emerging work around the Community Wealth Building Fund in Stockport. Through early coffee cup conversations and ongoing involvement, I estimate I’ve invested in the region of £5,000 worth of time into that space so far.

I don’t see that as a loss. I see it as an investment — one rooted in a trust that, over time, initiatives like this have the potential to shift how wealth is generated, retained and circulated within communities, not just in Stockport but beyond it.

From survival mode to something more stable

A recurring theme throughout the session was how many social enterprises are still operating close to survival.

Short-term funding cycles, inconsistent income, and the pressure to constantly demonstrate impact can pull organisations away from longer-term thinking and steadier foundations.

What felt important was the shared recognition that something needs to shift:

• from undercharging to valuing work properly

• from fragility to stability

• from isolation to collaboration

• from constant adaptation to more intentional design

  
  

Not because purpose is lacking — but because the systems around purpose need strengthening.

What I left with

As the session came to a close, I found myself reflecting on how much has shifted over the past four years, both in the programme and in the people who have moved through it.

There is more confidence now. More clarity. More willingness to name the realities of building something that sits between community need and economic reality.

And there is still a lot to do.

As the programme moves into its final year, the questions feel bigger than ever:

How do we continue supporting people to move from idea into sustainable reality?

How do we strengthen the ecosystem that has begun to form?

How do we ensure purpose-led organisations are properly resourced to do the work they exist to do?

And perhaps most importantly:

How do we stop apologising for needing to make a profit?

One participant summed it up in the image shared during the session:

“We’re not for free, we charge a fee.”

It stayed with me because it captured something shared in the room — not as a slogan, but as a lived reality.

Because the conclusion I keep coming back to is this:

Purpose does not remove the need for financial sustainability.It makes it non-negotiable.

We’re not free.We charge a fee.