The late May bank holiday presents a welcome chance to draw breath for my family and I after a hectic start to 2026 for all of us.
Fresh from passing her driving test, my daughter Penny prepares to head to York to study archaeology in September. Having just returned from a month in New Zealand, she’s working hard, saving, and planning to travel again this summer.
Her brother Henry, meanwhile, is a third of the way through the GCSE grind. His school in Wells texts us every day to advise us of an ‘unauthorised’ absence. I can confirm here (and have done to them) that he’s revising for the next exam. Anyone who’s had children at this life stage knows it’s a joyless slog.
My wife is studying for a certificate in systemic psychotherapy at Exeter University, on top of a demanding day job as a family therapist in Somerset.
And I’m working hard on the business as Distinctive approaches the end of our fourth year, reflecting on the progress we’ve made in that short time.
Between all of this and the tedious task of processing dozens of receipts from UKREiiF in Leeds this week, I realise how much has shifted since May 2022.
We hit Easter ready for a break, though I’m still working from my parents’ house in Broad Haven.
I’m immensely pleased with progress at Distinctive over the last year, while feeling intensely busy as the team continues its growth spurt.
We’re hiring again, in response to client requests to provide new services. We’re constantly learning and investing in training, tech and additional support to help us to work better.
But when you’re busy and keen to move forward, it’s often the small things that get in the way. Considered in isolation, they seem a manageable cost of doing business. Taken together, day by day, they add up to a lot.
Hello, bad tech. A constant irritant and frequent roadblock to getting things done. While we’ve hit on some areas with AI that help us, I regularly rub against the same frustrations with tools that make me question the hype around it.
“One of the things I heard in the Treasury at the time [I was a minister in that department] is that ‘there is no such thing as local growth.’”
The Rt Hon Greg Clark, ex cabinet minister.
Former housing secretary Greg Clark’s insight into his discussions with Treasury staff speaks to a mindset within government that’s constrained the economy for too long.
Overly centralised, mistrusting of local partners and blind to great organisations supporting growth across the country. It’s a bleakly depressing take.
Thankfully, that comment shared by Mr Clark in Bristol last week happened more than a decade ago. And although it’s easy to miss in the day to day, we’ve seen a shift since then.
Devolution is on the agenda. The Chancellor’s Mais Lecture pointed to further investment in cities. And local growth is happening.
The Brunel Centre’s Strategic Economic Audit of the West of England doesn’t roll off the tongue easily. But it contains a raft of data and insights from people who work here that should be invaluable to those making the case for investment, for government backing or just to better tell the story of this place.
The report highlights that our region which covers the four local authority areas around Bristol and Bath is the most productive outside of London. We’ve got innovative businesses, strong trade, a skilled labour market and four great universities.
It also speaks to challenges, which need fixing – transport, housing affordability, child poverty, and youth unemployment in Bristol.
I was struck by the section on business which highlights that SMEs in the region are stuck in a ‘holding pattern’, lacking confidence in the wider economy and reluctant to invest.
This is complex, multi-layered stuff. It was good to hear senior well-respected speakers like Greg Clark offer reflections in a measured way that stands in contrast to much of the shrill commentary we see in the media.
Anyone who lives and works in the West of England will have their own perspective on what works and what doesn’t. Like me, they’ll have their own views on what the data says. It’s worth taking a look for yourself.
Four years ago today (16 March 2026), I resigned from a role I loved without a plan or any job waiting for me.
There wasn’t a single reason for my decision. I just knew deep down after a full-on couple of years leading a team through lockdown that I needed to try something else. I was frazzled and unable to see what the future looked like.
So, after meeting colleagues in Manchester the previous day, I decided to press the button on paid employment. I remember posting this on LinkedIn, sitting alone in a booth in the Engine Shed in Bristol, before taking a breath and returning to the shipping container where my team worked to get on with the day.
I’m gradually tidying up this blog, tweaking formats, setting up redirects and updating meta descriptions.
Reading old posts about developments I once supported – where colleagues now live – feels a bit like going through photos from yesteryear. My enthusiasm for social media in older posts is especially striking. We did some great things on Twitter back in the day. And didn’t I love it.
And as AI advances into so many aspects of our lives, I hold more nuanced views about tech today. On balance, I’d say I’m optimistically sceptical. Or maybe sceptically optimistic.
Either way, I strongly support good tech, while pushing back against the bad bits. There is plenty to think about every day.
Nigel Farage’s recent ‘have a go Britain’ speech included a snippet on working from home that will land badly with many because of its failure to recognise the realities of modern life.
Weirdly calling for an ‘attitudinal change’ (whatever that means), his speech to Reform supporters said:
“People aren’t more productive working from home. It’s a LOAD. OF. NONSENSE. They’re more productive being with other fellow human beings and working as part of the team.”
Many of his applauding supporters looked like they hadn’t worked in many years. I’ll come back to that.
