Coworking Values Podcast

Episode Summary“When there is such a place in a peripheral area, it’s usually a place that a young person will visit one way or another. You can reach out to them. You can walk around the neighbourhood because we’re talking about small communities, so you know each other.”Dimitris is a PhD researcher at Panteion University of Social and Political Sciences in Athens, Research Fellow at Politécnico di Milano for the Remaking Horizon project on remote working policies, project lead for Rural Radicals, collaborator on EU and EEA-funded initiatives like ResMove and Cowork4YOUTH.He’s a storyteller who changed his medium from literature to community infrastructure. His entire professional life reads as a search for a new, more empowering narrative for the people and places left behind by Europe’s dominant economic story.He grew up in Greece’s intellectual centres—Thessaloniki and Athens—but now turns his focus to the periphery. The forgotten villages. The declining market towns. The suburbs where the last young person left decades ago. He’s translating the language of the urban core and applying it to heartlands that desperately need new economic models.The problem is stark: across Spain, France, Greece, and beyond, entire regions are being drained of their young talent. Not a trickle, but a haemorrhage. The brightest minds pack bags and board planes from regional airports, heading for Berlin, Madrid, Barcelona, and London. The term “brain drain” sounds clinical. But behind every statistic is a family losing a daughter, a village losing its future, a local economy losing the one person who might have started something new.Dimitris isn’t just researching this crisis. He’s building the infrastructure to reverse it. His work poses a provocative question: what if coworking spaces are more than just remote work and good Wi-Fi? What if they’re actually civic infrastructure—the new town squares where young people practise economic citizenship, where migrants find pathways to entrepreneurship, where peripheral communities discover they don’t need to move to the capital to build meaningful work?This conversation explores how collaborative spaces can become mediators, bringing together digital opportunities, community networks, and practical skills training. Bernie and Dimitris discuss everything from the cost-of-living crisis pushing people back to smaller towns, to the specific challenges facing Greece’s social enterprise sector, to why youth retention requires more than sporadic events—it demands organised, sustained policy that connects bottom-up needs with top-down support.This episode matters because it challenges the narrative that economic opportunity only exists in major cities. For independent coworking operators, this masterclass helps you understand your role not just as a business owner, but as a community anchor. For anyone working in peripheral regions, it’s proof that brain gain is possible when you build the proper infrastructure for connection, learning, and economic agency.⏱ Timeline Highlights[01:24] Dimitris introduces himself: PhD researcher studying youth engagement and employment policies in collaborative workspaces across peripheral Europe[04:04] Bernie asks the sleep question—when does Dimitris rest with so many projects spinning simultaneously?[06:45] “Peripheral doesn’t just mean rural—it can be a left-behind suburb or an old warehouse area inside a city”[09:05] “Building your network is one of the hardest things young people need to do. The opportunities to build your network are very, very small nowadays.”[12:23] The economic reality: young people move from Vigo to Barcelona and Madrid, taking their wealth with them—coworking spaces can anchor people locally[16:00] “The cost-of-living crisis discourages young people from staying longer in big cities”[17:51] “Many old institutions, like community centres, adopt coworking practices and rebrand themselves as hubs”[18:04] Bernie asks about Dimitris’s ideal hub—the mental picture he carries[20:19] “It’s really nice, in Greek, we say to listen to a good word, to a nice word every day when you go.”[22:00] Where to find Dimitris: LinkedIn is the central hub for all his projects and deliverables[24:01] Bernie’s closing: host a screening of the Actionism film in your coworking space to kickstart community conversations about collective actionThe Peripheral Economy ProblemThe language matters here. Dimitris doesn’t say “rural decline” like it’s inevitable. He says “peripheral areas” because geography isn’t the only factor. You can be peripheral in the heart of a city—an old industrial quarter where the factories closed, where services dried up, where nobody opens new businesses anymore.These areas share common symptoms: population loss, ageing demographics, limited job opportunities, poor digital infrastructure, and a persistent sense of being left behind. The social and economic isolation feeds on itself. When young people leave, they take energy, ideas, purchasing power, and hope with them.This isn’t just about losing workers. It’s about losing the social fabric. When the young leave, community organisations lose volunteers. Local businesses lose customers. Schools close. The remaining residents age in place, and the cycle becomes self-reinforcing.Dimitris has spent years interviewing young people across Europe who are beneficiaries of employment and engagement initiatives run through collaborative spaces. What he’s discovered challenges the fatalistic narrative that these places are doomed. The pattern he’s documenting suggests that with the proper infrastructure—both digital and social—peripheral regions can offer something cities increasingly can’t: affordability, community, and quality of life.The pandemic proved this wasn’t just a theory. During lockdowns, knowledge workers fled expensive city centres for countryside cottages and coastal towns. Some stayed. The question now is whether communities can build the right conditions to make staying attractive, not just temporarily tolerable.Youth Engagement as Community InfrastructureDimitris describes a methodology that works: use collaborative spaces as the physical anchor for youth engagement, then build programming around what young people need.First step: stop waiting for them to find you. Walk around the neighbourhood. In small communities, you know each other. Do customer research—ask young people what events they’d actually attend, what skills they want to learn, what barriers they face.Then bring them into the space with other like-minded peers, some professionals, maybe policymakers, depending on the event. The magic isn’t in the formal programming—it’s in the informal networks that form when people start showing up regularly. Someone mentions they need help with graphic design. Another person knows someone. A conversation leads to a collaboration. A collaboration leads to paid work.Dimitris is careful to distinguish between engagement and employment. Engagement is the umbrella term—getting people out of isolation, connecting them to community, giving them a place to belong. Employment is one of the direct or indirect effects of engagement. You can’t force job creation, but you can create the conditions where economic opportunity becomes more likely.The spaces that succeed with youth retention share standard practices: they offer skills workshops on remote work, business setup, and digital tools. They host regular social events that aren’t explicitly about work. They maintain a visible presence in the community rather than expecting everyone to find them online. And critically, they work with—not against—young people’s desire for meaningful work that doesn’t require leaving home.What this conversation doesn’t capture is the toll. The grant applications that fail. The community members who leave anyway. The quiet moments when building this infrastructure feel like bailing out the ocean with a teaspoon. Dimitris carries this work across multiple countries whilst the economic ground keeps shifting beneath everyone’s feet. For the exhausted UK operator listening to this, that tension between vision and viability isn’t abstract—it’s Tuesday afternoon.The Digital Opportunity (and Its Economic Reality)The cost-of-living crisis is reshaping where people can afford to live. Dimitris sees this as a convergence point: cities are becoming increasingly unaffordable, while remote work is becoming increasingly viable. For the first time in generations, young people don’t automatically need to move to the capital to access knowledge economy jobs.But let’s be clear about the economics. Remote work solves the income problem only if you already have clients, skills, and savings. For local youth without university degrees or professional networks, “learn to code” isn’t a magic wand. Digital skills matter, but so does access to the networks that generate paid work in the first place.Bernie often talks about how the middle class is being hollowed out, and coworking should wake up and pay attention before coworking becomes a privilege. If peripheral spaces are to anchor economic opportunity, they must be affordable for local wage earners, not just for remote workers who bring London salaries to Greek villages.The coworking space acts as a mediator, bringing all the threads together. It has the physical space, the people who run it with knowledge and networks, and the neutrality that allows different groups to mix. It’s not a youth centre (which might feel too institutional) or a startup accelerator (which might feel too exclusive)—it’s a third place where anyone can show up, pay a reasonable rate, and find their people.This is particularly crucial for retaining graduates who leave peripheral areas to study in bigger cities. The question isn’t whether they’ll leave initially—most will. The question is whether something is compelling enough to bring them back after they finish their degree. A thriving collaborative works

Episode Summary“There is a real disconnect between community coworking spaces and the people who will fund these kinds of needs.”There’s a gap. On one side, people are arriving in Europe with skills, education, and drive. On the other side, coworking spaces are built on community, collaboration, and openness. In the middle, a wall of bureaucracy, funding applications, and municipal departments that nobody knows how to navigate.Jeannine van der Linden has run a coworking space in Oosterhout, Netherlands, since 2010. She knows exactly what it feels like to walk into her local municipality with a good idea and watch officials stare blankly because nobody knows what to do with her.That disconnect — between community coworking spaces and the institutions holding funds for community projects — is costing everyone. Migrants can’t access spaces. Spaces can’t access funding. Economic potential sits idle whilst paperwork piles up.Enter RES-MOVE: 11 partners across 10 countries, funded by the European Commission’s AMIF (asylum, migrants, and integration fund), with one mission — turn coworking spaces into real integration hubs. Not charity. Not handouts. What Jeannine calls “a strategic economic necessity.”This conversation strips away the polish. Jeannine talks openly about writing grant proposals that bombed because coworking operators think like entrepreneurs (will this turn a profit?) whilst municipalities think like impact assessors (what will this do for our community?). She explains why the Ukrainian diaspora became the initial focus, and how it evolved as the reality of long-term migration set in. She reveals that NGO partners already possess the municipal contacts that coworking spaces have been seeking for years.The friction is real. The timeline is slow (EU projects move from first contact to active work over several years). But the pathway is clear: coworking spaces need to stop reinventing the funding wheel and start partnering with organisations that already know how to open those doors.If you’ve ever felt stuck between having the capacity to serve your community and no clue how to fund it adequately, this episode hands you the map. Jeannine’s not selling inspiration. She’s offering infrastructure.This is for: Independent coworking operators who know their space could serve their community better, but don’t know how to access funding. Community builders are frustrated by dead-end grant applications. Anyone who’s ever been told “somebody will send you an email” by their local council, only to receive nothing.You’ll leave with: Practical knowledge about EU funding structures, why NGO partnerships matter, how to reframe your pitch from profit to impact, and exactly where the RES-MOVE project needs help right now.Timeline Highlights[00:04] “There’s a gap” — Bernie frames the core problem: skilled migrants, community-ready coworking spaces, and a bureaucratic wall nobody knows how to climb[01:55] Jeannine calls in from Oosterhout, Netherlands — halfway between Amsterdam and Brussels, running a coworking space since 2010[02:17] RES-MOVE explained: Resources On the Move — migrants as economic resources to Europe, funded by AMIF[03:24] “Coworking spaces can act as integration hubs” — the central thesis driving 11 partners across 10 countries[04:31] The EU timeline reality check — from first contact to funding approval to actually starting work takes years[06:41] The corporate/community divide exposed — some spaces don’t even call themselves coworking spaces or know they’re part of the movement[08:37] What a coworking space actually gets from RES-MOVE — events, projects, connections to develop their capacity, not just cash handouts[09:53] “Strategic economic necessity, not a handout” — Jeannine reframes the entire conversation about migrant support[12:17] The funding disconnect revealed — coworking spaces can’t even find the right person at the municipality; NGO partners already have those contacts[13:46] The presentation that failed — when coworking spaces pitch profit whilst municipalities only care about community impact[20:43] “Sometimes this happens in the middle of a project” — ideas evolve, maps get redesigned, new funding opportunities emerge[25:01] The Call for Ideas is still open — if you’ve got a project that increases inclusion for migrants in your coworking space, fill out the form[27:24] Marko Orel’s November seminar announced — focusing on Ukrainian diaspora, long-term integration, and what actually works[31:07] Marko introduced properly — Head of Centre for Workplace Research at the University of Prague, Department of Entrepreneurship, Academic Director of the extended realities research lab[32:22] Helga Moreno — works at SpaceBring coworking software, Ukrainian Coworking Association leader, “a big cheese”The Bureaucratic Wall Between Good Ideas and FundingHere’s what actually happens when you walk into your local council with a coworking project that could genuinely help your community: absolutely nothing.Jeannine describes the experience with the specificity that only comes from living it. * You prepare a presentation. * You explain your project. * You centre it around what entrepreneurs care about — costs, profit, sustainability. * The officials nod politely. Someone says, “somebody will send you an email.” * Nobody ever does. You’re unsure who to follow up with. The project dies.The problem isn’t your idea. The problem is you’re speaking a different language. As Jeannine puts it, municipalities “literally never had that thought” about whether something would cover its costs and turn a profit. What they want to know is: what’s the impact on our community? How does this affect the municipality?This gap has kept coworking spaces away from significant funding for years. Not because the money doesn’t exist — there are substantial funds at the municipal, regional, and EU levels specifically for community projects. But because nobody taught coworking operators how to frame their work in impact terms, and nobody taught municipal funding officers what coworking spaces actually are.The Netherlands has made progress — all grants are now consolidated on a single website. But as Jeannine points out, even when it’s well organised, you as a solo coworking operator probably don’t have time to read that website, decode the requirements, and craft a proposal that speaks their language. That’s not a personal failing. That’s a structural gap that needs bridging.Why NGOs Already Have the Access You’ve Been Hunting ForOne of the quietly revolutionary aspects of RES-MOVE is who’s actually in the room. Out of 11 partner organisations, there are two academic partners, the European Coworking Assembly, and eight NGOs that work with migrants on a regular basis. They’re not coworking people. They’re migration specialists. And they already know exactly who to call at the municipality.Jeannine describes walking into the first meeting in Athens and saying, “I have a coworking space, but I don’t, to my knowledge, have any migrants.” That’s when it became clear: there’s a serious disconnect between community coworking spaces and the people who will fund these kinds of needs.Then comes the surprise. There are two partners in the Netherlands on this project: Jeannine’s space and an NGO called NetworkPro that works primarily with women. NetworkPro already knew people in Oosterhout. Jeannine’s town. Officials she’d been trying to reach. They just... knew them.This is the unlock. NGOs have spent time building relationships with the exact funding bodies that coworking spaces need to access. They understand the application processes, impact measurement frameworks, and the specific language required for proposal approval. They’ve already navigated the maze.The RES-MOVE model isn’t asking coworking spaces to become funding experts overnight. It’s creating partnerships where NGOs bring municipal access and migration expertise, whilst coworking spaces bring physical infrastructure and community integration capacity. Each partner contributes what they actually know how to do.For independent coworking operators reading this: you don’t need to learn everything about EU funding structures tomorrow. You need to find the local NGO that’s already doing community work and start a conversation about collaboration. They’re looking for physical spaces and community networks. You have both.Migrants as Economic Resources, Not Problems to SolveThe entire framing of RES-MOVE hinges on a single, crucial reposition. As Jeannine explains: “The inflexion point of this project is that the migrants entering Europe are resources to Europe that are not, for various reasons, getting brought to their full development when they get to Europe.”This isn’t soft language or charitable thinking. This is an economic reality. Jeannine emphasises that, particularly with Ukrainians, “they are, in general, highly educated people. Ukraine was a tech centre, an ag centre.” These aren’t people who need basic skills training. They’re individuals who require access to networks, workspace, and the social infrastructure that facilitates integration into a new economy.She’s clear about the gap between public messaging and reality: “There’s a lot of public messaging, much of which is misinformation about refugees and who they are. Refugees are not dirty, poor, and uneducated, and certainly the Ukrainians are not.”The traditional refugee support model focuses on immediate needs — housing, food, safety. Essential, yes. But it often stops there, creating dependency rather than a pathway to economic participation. Coworking spaces are positioned differently. They’re designed around collaboration, openness, and economic opportunity.When Jeannine talks about RES-MOVE’s goal — “to support migrants in their ability to either get a job, start a business, and in so doing, integrate in their local communities” — she’s describing what coworking spaces already do for everyone else. The only diffe

Episode Summary“The future is going to be more like the past than it is the present. With AI taking over so many jobs, it will likely take over all jobs involving staring at a computer. The people that are actually making things—I think we’re just going to want more and more of it.”Michael Korn spent 15 years being known as “the screen guy.”He built KwickScreen—hospital screens that scaled massively during the pandemic. He worked in factories worldwide. He studied manufacturing at Cambridge and design and innovation at the Royal College of Art. He has lived the entire journey from prototype to a production-scalable business.And the whole time, he kept asking: why does inventing have to be so lonely, so expensive, so gate-kept?This conversation begins with a problem that most people never consider: you spend years at university with access to lathes, mills, welding equipment, and 3D printers—everything you need to create things. Then you graduate. It’s gone. Now you’re in your shed with limited tools, alone. This is where most hardware inventions die.Five minutes from Lewisham Station, behind big blue doors, Michael built what he wished existed when he started. Blue Garage is a microfactory, innovation hub, and maker space designed specifically for ambitious scale-up hardware businesses. Not hobbyists. Not artists. The inventors who want to take something from the prototype stage through to a production-scale business.The equipment list sounds like a maker’s wildest dream: 3-metre UV printers, CNC routers, a Zünd cutting bed, powder coating rooms, textiles labs, and electronics fabrication suites. Industrial tools that used to be locked away in universities or costly facilities are now accessible through a coworking-style membership model.But here’s the tension Michael’s navigating: his friends from Cambridge and the Royal College of Art mostly got jobs at consultancies and banks. Higher salaries, higher status—at least it used to be. The number of people who actually go on to be inventors, start businesses, build jobs, and change things? Surprisingly few.Bernie and Michael dig into why making things matters more now than ever—not despite AI, but because of it. When desk jobs are automated, when fast fashion collapses under Vinted and a repair culture emerges, and when we finally face the reality of pollution we’ve exported to someone else’s rivers, local manufacturing stops being nostalgic and starts being essential.The episode explores the lean startup approach to hardware (you don’t need perfection to start), the importance of community in solo manufacturing journeys (motivation matters when you’re hitting walls), and why universities are both brilliant incubators and often struggle to help graduates continue making things after they leave.This is for anyone who’s ever wanted to create something but didn’t know where to begin. For coworking operators curious about what innovation really looks like when it’s more than just a buzzword on a website. For community builders who understand that the tools and equipment matter less than the network of people using them together.You’ll leave understanding why manufacturing creates better jobs with multiplier effects that financial services never will, why the imperfection in the story often sells better than polished corporate products, and what happens when you give inventors the tools and community to do the work together instead of alone in their sheds.Timeline Highlights* [00:04] Bernie’s opening: “This is where most hardware inventions die” — the shed problem after university* [01:34] Michael’s shift: “I’ve been known for 15 years as the screen guy, now I want to be the Innovation Hub Scale-up Accelerator Hardware Inventor guy”* [02:23] Blue Garage defined: “A place where people who make things can exceed their expectations and ambitions”* [03:25] The equipment list: lathes, mills, welding, 10-metre screen printing table, powder coating room, Zünd cutting bed* [05:35] Michael’s origin: “Blue Garage is a place I wish were around when I started”* [07:21] The loneliness of inventing: “There’s something intrinsically good about making stuff, but it’s been done on your own in your shed with limited tools”* [08:38] The theory that changes everything: “The future is going to be more like the past than the present”* [12:56] Bernie asks about cost: “Do you need £1,000 to make a prototype happen?”* [14:30] The lean startup approach: “You can start selling based on a rough concept, then raise money to do it properly”* [17:22] Bernie’s cruel joke: university friends go work for McKinsey or Deutsche Bank* [18:49] The university gap: “They leave university and there’s nowhere to make things anymore”* [21:37] Bernie’s breakthrough: “Blue Garage is one of the few places using the word ‘innovation’ that doesn’t make me roll my eyes”* [24:29] Why manufacturing matters: “It creates jobs with a multiplier effect you don’t get in financial services”* [28:11] Michael’s ambitions: helping 45 companies instead of the planned 10, thinking globally while building nationallyThe Shed Problem Nobody Talks AboutEvery engineering and design student knows this feeling, even if they don’t recognise it until it’s too late.At university, you have access to everything. Lathes, mills, 3D printers, laser cutters, welding equipment, electronics labs. You design things, prototype them, and manufacture them. The facilities are included as part of your tuition and degree. You don’t necessarily appreciate it because you’re focused on your projects and deadlines.Then you graduate.Suddenly, all those tools are gone. You’re in your shed—or more likely, your flat—with maybe a drill and some basic hand tools. You have an idea for a product, something you want to develop, but the gap between what you can imagine and what you can actually make has become massive.This is where most hardware inventions die. Not because the ideas are bad. Not because the inventors lack skill or motivation. But because inventing hardware is lonely, expensive, and gate-kept in ways software development never was.Michael Korn lived this. He studied manufacturing at Cambridge, design and innovation at the Royal College of Art with Imperial. He had all the facilities, all the training. Then he was out in the world, building KwickScreen—hospital screens that would eventually scale massively during the pandemic—and doing it the hard way.Starting in the corner of a friend’s factory in Pinner with just a lathe. Building relationships with manufacturers abroad. Learning the expensive, slow, frustrating process of taking something from prototype to production when you don’t have institutional resources backing you.Blue Garage is Michael’s answer to the shed problem. It’s what he wished existed when he started 15 years ago. Not a maker space for hobbyists or artists—there are plenty of those. A facility designed specifically for ambitious hardware businesses looking to scale. For individuals in the perilous gap between a university graduate with an idea and an established company with manufacturing capacity.The model is simple: coworking-style membership gives you access to industrial equipment. You pay for your desk, you get the tools. The community is included.Why the Future Looks More Like the PastMichael has a theory that sounds nostalgic until you think about it for more than 30 seconds.AI is coming for desk jobs. Not just some jobs, not eventually—it’s already taking over work that involves staring at computers and processing information. The jobs that survive will be those that AI can’t do: caring for people in hospitals and making physical things.We’re going to want more manufacturing, more making, more local production. Not less.This isn’t Luddite resistance to technology. It’s recognising what happens when you can’t see where things are made, who makes them, and what pollution they create. Right now, so much of that is hidden—happening in factories across the world, polluting rivers we’ll never see, affecting communities we’ll never visit.The economy is fragile. When a ship gets stuck in the Suez Canal, we suddenly realise how many components go into everything we buy. When a pandemic strikes, we recognise our vulnerable reliance on manufacturing done elsewhere. The whole system is more vulnerable than we pretend.But there’s something deeper happening, too. The fastest-growing clothing brand is Vinted. People buying from each other, repairing things, fixing them up. Bernie’s 14-year-old son is making money finding vintage Ralph Lauren shirts and flipping them on Vinted. Fast fashion is facing an existential crisis, as customers are increasingly opting to repair and reuse rather than consume new products.This shift creates space for local manufacturing to become economically viable again. When people want to know where things are made, who made them, what the environmental cost was—that’s a market opportunity for UK-based hardware businesses that can tell those stories honestly.Michael’s betting everything on this shift. Blue Garage isn’t preparing for a nostalgic return to the past—it’s building infrastructure for a manufacturing renaissance driven by technology, environmental awareness, and economic necessity.The people most likely to lead this? University graduates with technical skills and no access to equipment. Inventors working alone in sheds. Ambitious entrepreneurs who can see the opportunity but don’t have £500,000 for a factory setup.Give them the tools, give them the community, and watch what happens.The Innovation Word That Finally WorksBernie has a visceral reaction to the word “innovation” these days.Ten years ago, he encouraged coworking spaces to put it on their websites. Community, collaboration, innovation—the holy trinity of coworking buzzwords. But then every group of desks in Hounslow started calling themselves innovation hubs. The word became meaningless.Until Blue Garage.This is one of the few buildings in L

Episode Summary“We are in a space now where we can get really imaginative about how we utilise resources and how we change the way we’re looking at money.”Tilley Harris spent a decade documenting what doesn’t show up in spreadsheets.As co-founder of AKOU, she’s obsessed with social capital—the invisible currencies exchanged every day in coworking spaces that somehow never make it into impact reports or funding decisions. Trust. Connection. Knowledge sharing. Emotional support. The kind of value that keeps communities alive but doesn’t fit neatly into quarterly returns.This conversation starts where most coworking discussions end: at the uncomfortable truth that local authorities can’t see what’s actually happening in community spaces. Redbridge has the highest number of microbusinesses of any London borough, yet it still can’t determine if coworking matters. Meanwhile, Lewisham’s using spaces like Faceworks to support refugees arriving with nothing, building economic pathways through community connections.Bernie and Tilley delve into ecosystem winning—a concept that sounds corporate but holds a radically different meaning. It’s about collective access to opportunity rather than individual survival. It’s the opposite of monoculture, requiring the messy complexity of diverse voices and contributions that don’t all look the same.The tension here is real: coworking operators are building thriving ecosystems in their neighbourhoods whilst simultaneously struggling to articulate their value to the people holding budgets. They’re creating social capital daily—through introduced freelancers who end up collaborating, through emotional support during burnout, and through knowledge exchanges that occur over coffee—but there’s no agreed-upon system for measuring or documenting these invisible currencies.Tilley brings a photographer’s eye to data, looking for the stories playing out beneath the surface. Before you can change how resources flow, you need a year of self-care and stress-shedding to get people’s nervous systems calm enough to imagine differently. That’s what she’s learned working with Lambeth micro-service providers through the Walcott Foundation.This episode is for coworking operators who know they’re making an impact but can’t quite explain it in ways that get them in the room where decisions happen. It’s for community builders exhausted from feeling like they’re the only ones grinding away in their neighbourhood. And it’s for anyone wondering why coworking spaces matter more than ever, whilst simultaneously being completely overlooked by local government.You’ll leave with language to describe the value you create, a connection to others building similar ecosystems, and a clearer picture of what’s possible when we stop trying to fit community impact into financial frameworks that were never designed to capture it.Timeline Highlights* [00:04] Bernie’s opening: hundreds of people starting projects in every neighbourhood, and how coworking spaces are replacing community centres* [01:38] Tilley defines AKOU’s mission: “obsessed with social capital and networks, showing people the magic that social capital can create”* [02:53] Ecosystem winning explained: “working as a collective to access more opportunities together”* [04:55] Bernie names the tension: “What’s the difference between a winning ecosystem and a clique?”* [06:27] Tilley on diversity: “For a thriving ecosystem, you need diversity. Monoculture forests are part of the climate change issues”* [09:24] The invisible currencies revelation: social capital, creative capital, emotional support, data—all exchanged but never documented* [12:49] Why now matters: “We’re at a really exciting time... on the brink of our completely new industrial revolution with AI”* [15:38] Bernie on the intangible magic of real-life connection: stretching imaginations about what coworking can do* [19:13] The golden share concept: giving the environment a seat at the board table* [22:54] Tilley’s Walcott Foundation project: 12 months of self-care funding before service providers could even think about resource allocation* [28:19] The recognition gap: “Is there enough celebration of what coworking spaces achieve despite the struggle?”* [30:34] Bernie’s example: Redbridge has the highest number of microbusinesses in London, but still can’t see why coworking matters* [31:59] Real impact examples: Faceworks supporting refugees, Urban MBA’s two-year relationship-building with the local community* [33:34] The invitation: London Coworking Assembly bringing 150 community builders together for deep conversationThe Value That Doesn’t Show Up in ReportsEvery coworking space operator knows this feeling: you’re changing lives daily, but when you try to explain your impact to a council officer or potential funder, the language falls apart.Tilley Harris has been chasing this problem for ten years. What started as photojournalism—capturing invisible stories—evolved into data work when she realised photographs only take you so far in conversations about resource allocation. The people making decisions about where money flows can’t see social capital, so they don’t fund it. They can’t measure trust exchanges, so they don’t value them.The irony is brutal: coworking spaces are some of the most capital-rich environments in their neighbourhoods, just not in the currency that counts on spreadsheets. A freelancer gets introduced to a potential collaborator. Someone going through burnout finds emotional support over coffee. A new arrival in the country accesses a network that leads to their first UK client. These exchanges occur dozens of times daily in spaces such as Urban MBA, Faceworks, and Space4.But try putting that in a funding application. Try explaining to Redbridge Council, which has one of the highest concentrations of microbusinesses in London, that coworking infrastructure might be a worthwhile investment. Bernie’s watched consultants submit multiple reports making this case. The response remains: maybe, we’ll think about it. Is this really necessary?Meanwhile, Waltham Forest, Islington, and Lewisham have worked it out. They’ve connected the dots between supporting local coworking spaces and keeping revenue in the borough whilst building community resilience. They’ve realised that when you create infrastructure for freelancers and microbusinesses to connect, you’re not just providing desks—you’re building economic pathways and social safety nets that weren’t there before.Ecosystem Winning vs Problem SolvingTilley introduces a concept that sounds corporate but means something radically different in practice: ecosystem winning.The social sector defaults to problem-solving. Understandable—there are genuine problems that need to be solved. But when you’re constantly in problem-solving mode, you only see problems. You lose the ability to spot possibilities and opportunities. You lose the sense that you have choices.Ecosystem winning invites a different question: how do we win more together rather than each struggling individually to overcome obstacles?Bernie immediately spots the danger: “What’s the difference between a winning ecosystem and a clique?” It’s a crucial distinction. London’s full of coworking spaces that opened in slightly rough neighbourhoods, attracting friendly people from nice areas who liked the cheap desks, and created thriving communities that somehow never included anyone from the actual neighbourhood in which they’re located.Tilley’s answer comes from ecology: thriving ecosystems require diversity. Monoculture forests contribute to climate change. Real resilience comes from complexity and messiness, from different types of contributions that don’t all look the same.This means changing what we value. Financial capital has dominated for so long that we’ve forgotten how to recognise other forms of wealth. What if we acknowledged creative capital—knowledge and skill exchanges happening without a price tag? What if emotional support were considered a form of currency? What if data exchanges, or the trust built through consistent showing up, were recognised as valuable contributions to the ecosystem?These aren’t abstract concepts. They’re happening in every coworking space, every day. The challenge is making them visible to people who only know how to measure what fits in balance sheets.The Twelve-Month Stress Shed Before StrategyTilley’s work with the Walcott Foundation reveals something most impact programmes miss: you can’t strategise your way out of burnout.The Foundation aimed to enhance its grant distribution process to microservice providers in Lambeth. The objective was to fund activities that genuinely make a difference rather than those that merely look impressive in reports. Sensible objective. But when they started talking to the service providers, they discovered something else needed to happen first.These organisations were struggling. Stress, burnout, and defence mechanisms had accumulated from years of under-resourcing and over-asking. They couldn’t think creatively about resource allocation because their nervous systems were stuck in survival mode.So Tilley’s team did something unusual: they spent twelve months just providing small pots of money for self-care. For teams. For individuals. No strings attached, no strategic planning required. Just: shed the stress, tend to yourselves, remember what it feels like to not be in crisis mode.Only after those twelve months could they begin year two—the actual work of rethinking how money flows, who makes decisions, and how it could be made easier for under-resourced services to access what they need.This has direct implications for coworking operators. You can’t build thriving ecosystems from a place of constant scarcity and hustle. You can’t create space for diverse voices when you’re in survival mode yourself. Self-care isn’t a luxury to address after you’ve sorted the business model—it’s the foundation that makes genuine

Episode Summary“In a former Soviet state, you derive your power from secrecy in a lot of ways. We were turning that idea upside down and pushing forth that collaboration is actually power and sharing is power.”Sara Anjargolian didn’t move to Armenia in 2012 because it was easy. She moved because she couldn’t look away.An American lawyer watching a former Soviet state slide back toward authoritarianism. A country where power came from what you knew, not who you were. Where work happened behind closed doors and strength meant keeping secrets.And then she did something that sounded simple but was actually radical: she built a space with glass walls.Impact Hub Yerevan opened in 2015 with 500 square metres of transparency in a culture built on opacity. Everyone could see what everyone else was doing, who they were meeting with, and what projects were taking shape.Four members who’d never have met otherwise—an architect, a winemaker, a crowdfunding platform—started collaborating on a project to empower rural grape farmers. Instead of just selling grapes to winemakers, these farmers now operate their own tasting rooms on their land.That’s the small story.The big story is what happened when the values inside those glass walls—trust, collaboration, openness—started spilling out onto the streets. When the coworking space became a rehearsal room for the Velvet Revolution of 2018. Not one person died during a peaceful uprising that toppled an authoritarian regime.Sara’s now based in Los Angeles, but she spent years building something that proved a controversial point: community spaces aren’t neutral. They’re either reinforcing the culture around them or quietly teaching a different way.This conversation doesn’t offer inspiration. It offers evidence. Evidence that who you intentionally throw together in a room matters. That transparency can be more powerful than secrecy. That starting with an Excel spreadsheet of 20-30 people is more important than falling in love with a sexy space.Sara talks about trauma—the 1915 genocide that created the Armenian diaspora, the 2020 war with Azerbaijan that turned their coworking space into a humanitarian centre during COVID. She talks about watching members fight on the front lines whilst the space tried to help displaced families.And she talks about what happens when you refuse to accept that you’re powerless. When you reject the idea that there’s much difference between people “on the ground” and people in “halls of power.”This episode is for coworking operators who feel overwhelmed by political division and global chaos. For community builders, wondering if their small space actually matters. For anyone who’s ever thought, “I’m just one person—what can I really do?”You’ll leave understanding why the cocktail party matters more than the furniture. Why boring Excel spreadsheets beat beautiful architecture. And why getting involved in what makes you come alive isn’t optional—it’s essential for your soul.Timeline Highlights* [01:13] “I’m known as someone very involved and heavily invested in building the future Republic of Armenia”* [02:32] Sara’s decision to move to Armenia in 2012: “I didn’t even think about it as easy or hard. I thought about it, and I thought, This is really interesting. I want to be part of it”* [03:27] Why Impact Hub Yerevan wasn’t just a coworking space: “The idea was really more about bringing the best and brightest and people who cared about social change in Armenia under one roof to see what we could do”* [06:56] Building with glass walls as a philosophical statement: “You derive your power from secrecy in a lot of ways. We were turning that idea upside down”* [07:17] The grape farmer collaboration story: four members creating rural tasting rooms instead of just selling grapes* [13:20] The Velvet Revolution of 2018: “Not one person died during that revolution. It was very much a peaceful revolution”* [15:02] The moment the country caught up to the Hub: “All of a sudden, the country outside of the walls of Impact Hub started to espouse the same values as what we had been talking about inside”* [18:39] Sara’s advice on feeling powerless: “I don’t think that we have much less power. In terms of being a human, we are all the same beings, and you have to get involved”* [20:53] The intentional curation approach: “It was, I’m going to reach out to this person because I see that they’re doing something cool. They need to be part of our community”* [23:09] The crucial mistake to avoid: “I would caution people not to fall in love with spaces... start very much with the people”* [24:37] Three Impact Hubs now operating across Armenia: Yerevan, Gyumri, and SyunikWhy Secrecy Loses to CollaborationSara describes post-Soviet Armenia as a place where power came from what you kept hidden. Behind closed doors. Need-to-know basis. Information as currency.This wasn’t just workplace culture. It was a survival strategy shaped by decades of authoritarian rule.Impact Hub Yerevan’s glass walls weren’t an aesthetic choice. They were a political statement wrapped in architecture. When everyone can see what everyone else is doing, you’re demonstrating a different kind of power—one built on trust, not control.The shift wasn’t immediate. Members had to learn a new philosophy of working together. Sara says when people signed up to work from this space, “in a way, they were signing up to a new philosophy of working together.”Slowly, people started collaborating. Starting projects. Sharing resources. The winemaker noticed the architect. The crowdfunding platform connected with both. And suddenly, rural grape farmers weren’t just suppliers—they were hosts, entrepreneurs, storytellers on their own land.This is what happens when you design space intentionally against the dominant culture. You create a small rehearsal room for a different way of being.The Cocktail Party Strategy Nobody TeachesSara uses a metaphor that should be taught in every coworking space training programme: throwing an elaborate cocktail party.You want the person dancing on the table with a lampshade on their head. You also wish to be the quiet person in the corner building the next big thing. You’re making soup with different spices. You’re curating energy, not just renting desks.She describes making lists. Reaching out to people doing interesting things. Constantly inviting them to the party.This isn’t community management. It’s deliberate cultural architecture.Bernie recognises it immediately—he has a reputation for throwing people together and then leaving them to find their connection points. But he adds something crucial: loud people like him can put off quieter people, so you have to make a point of getting them in.The best coworking spaces understand this. They’re not waiting for the right people to show up. They’re hunting them down, one Excel spreadsheet row at a time.When Your Space Becomes a Humanitarian Centre2020 was meant to be about COVID. For Armenia, it became a matter of war.Azerbaijan attacked the ethnic Armenian population of Nagorno-Karabakh for 44 days. Sara notes that “the world was so much more concerned with dealing with COVID, that this war happened really in some ways outside of the international attention.” The ethnic Armenian population was expelled. The land is now under Azerbaijani control.Impact Hub Yerevan transformed overnight. Sara describes it: “We turned from a coworking space in a lot of ways into almost a humanitarian centre, trying to help not just our boys on the front lines fighting this war, but at the same time, all of the people who were displaced from their homes during the war.”Sara doesn’t dwell on this in the conversation—she could go on and on, she says, but she stops. You can hear the weight of it, though. The trauma that sits underneath community building in places where history isn’t theoretical.This is the context that makes glass walls radical. This is why collaboration as a form of power matters. This is the soil where Impact Hub grew.Western coworking operators often discuss “making an impact” without understanding the actual cost of such an impact in places experiencing active conflict and displacement.The Velvet Revolution: When Inside Became Outside* Armenia was sliding toward full authoritarianism. Following the Belarus path. Satellite state of Russia.The Armenian people said no.Streets filled with protesters. The former regime resigned. A new government was formed. Zero deaths. The Velvet Revolution.Sara was running Impact Hub at the time. Many of the people on the streets were Hub members. Including her.Then came the pivot: she left the Hub, passed the executive director role to her director of programmes, and joined the new government. She transitioned from running a space that promoted these values to helping build a government that embodied them.This is the moment she describes carefully: “All of a sudden, the country outside of the walls of Impact Hub started to espouse the same values as what we had been talking about inside the walls.”Not inspiration. Vindication.The rehearsal became the performance. The small room became the whole country. The glass walls became the new architecture of power.The Boring Excel Spreadsheet TruthHere’s Sara’s most practical advice, delivered with the caution of someone who’s seen coworking spaces fail by starting wrong:Don’t fall in love with the space.Cofounders are often drawn to the stunning light, beautiful windows, and intriguing architecture. They put down deposits before they know who’ll actually show up.Start with 20-30 names in a boring Excel spreadsheet. People you can actually imagine working in this space. Before doing anything else. Before architecture. Before deposits.Impact Hub Yerevan had an incredible architect. But they started with the people.This feels unglamorous. It doesn’t photograph well for Instagram. It won’t win design awards.But it’s the difference between a coworking space and a rehearsal room for r

“These spaces are where increasingly, they’re critical civic infrastructure. They’re what I think of as civic catalysts, and they are where people meet one another, with a bit of engagement and a bit of facilitation, where people can be encouraged to face into the challenges facing their local communities.”Jon Alexander doesn’t perform when he talks. There’s nothing shiny about the man behind Citizens. But he names things most of us feel but can’t quite articulate. Like how the Labour government is collapsing. Like how Reform might win the next election. Like how coworking spaces might be the only thing standing between communities and complete civic breakdown.When Jon says he wants to be known for “figuring out what to do with politics before it all falls apart,” there’s an honest urgency that cuts through conference small talk and LinkedIn optimism. This isn’t another conversation about community-washing or flexible workspace trends. This is about coworking as political infrastructure – and whether operators have the nerve to admit it.Jon spent years watching the consumer story collapse – the idea that people are fundamentally motivated by self-interest, that democracy is just choosing between fixed options. He’s seen what fills the vacuum: strongman leaders and authoritarian logic. Jon argues that the only antidote is stepping into what he calls the citizen story – the idea that all of us are smarter than any of us.coworking spaces, Jon says, are where this happens. Not through manifestos or policy papers, but through the messy, essential work of getting neighbours to actually meet each other. Of hosting events that celebrate what’s working before diving into what’s broken. Of creating the conditions where people discover they can face challenges together instead of waiting for someone else to fix them.Bernie’s Write Club story proves Jon’s point. Starting with four people writing, growing to six, then twenty people sitting on floors because they had nowhere else to talk about their craft. A guy showed up with a keyboard thinking it was about music writing until they explained it was writing club. You don’t need the Foo Fighters. You need love of place and the courage to start with what’s strong, not what’s wrong.For coworking operators feeling the weight of empty desks and rising rents, this conversation offers something more sustaining than growth hacks or pivot strategies. It offers a reason to stay in the fight that has nothing to do with occupancy rates and everything to do with democracy itself.⏱ Timeline Highlights[01:51] “A great book called Citizens. What would you like to be known for now?”[02:00] Jon’s new mission: “Figuring out what to do with politics before it all falls apart”[02:31] “It really matters to do what you’re doing and actually to see yourselves as political actors”[04:09] The collapse framework: consumer story to subject story, with citizen story as the only antidote[05:28] “coworking spaces are spaces for that to happen. Step up and acknowledge that.”[06:51] Bernie on the London coworking Assembly response: “That’s the language I need”[07:35] The ACTionism story: from climate anxiety to community action through outdoor retail transformation[10:20] The celebration principle: “Start with what’s strong, not with what’s wrong”[11:05] Cormac Russell’s framework: “Use what’s strong to fix what’s wrong”[12:17] Bernie’s Write Club example: four people, then six, then twenty sitting on floors[14:01] The drama triangle applied to politics: perpetrators, rescuers, victims[17:59] “This work really matters, really matters” – Jon’s core message to operators[19:22] The three principles: Purpose, Platform, Prototype vs the marketing 4Ps[23:05] Bernie on spotting energy: “You find the people” through genuine interests[25:40] Adrienne Maree Brown’s wisdom: “Inch-wide, mile-deep change that schisms the existing paradigm”The We Work Delusion Is DeadJon doesn’t mention We Work by name, but his framework demolishes everything they represented. The old 4Ps of marketing – product, price, promotion, placement – trap you in thinking of people as consumers. You offer services, they consume them. You position yourself in the market, they choose you or don’t.coworking spaces still caught in this thinking ask the wrong questions: What do we offer? How do we position ourselves? What’s our pricing strategy? Jon’s alternative cuts deeper: What are we really trying to do here? What’s so big that we need people to help us do it rather than us doing it for them?The difference isn’t semantic. One approach creates customers; the other creates citizens. One fills desks; the other builds democracy. Bernie’s observation about spaces wanting to “be like We Work” – like wanting to be the Hilton or TGI Friday’s – misses what makes independent spaces powerful: their rootedness, their refusal to be replicated anywhere else.Bernie mentions a space in Camden that had one of three gigantic 3D printers available in London at that time. Instead of leveraging that uniqueness, they wanted to imitate We Work’s failed model. Jon’s framework would ask: How do we use this incredible resource to help Camden flourish? How do we make it meaningful for makers and inventors to participate in that vision?coworking as Political InfrastructurePolitics, for Jon, isn’t about party affiliation or policy positions. It’s about power – who has it, who doesn’t, and how communities organise themselves to face challenges together. coworking spaces are political whether operators recognise it or not. The question is whether they’ll be conscious about it.The drama triangle Jon describes – perpetrators (councils, politicians), rescuers (interventionist organisations), victims (citizens waiting for solutions) – explains why community initiatives fail. Everyone stays trapped in blame cycles instead of stepping into agency. Victims need to become creators. Perpetrators need to become challengers who work alongside rather than imposing solutions. Rescuers need to become supporters rather than interveners.coworking spaces can break this pattern by creating conditions for citizens to move from victim to creator mindset. Not through workshops on civic engagement, but through the practical experience of organising something they care about. Bernie’s Write Club didn’t start as a political act – it was writers wanting to talk about writing. But when twenty people are sitting on floors because they’ve found community around shared passion, that’s civic muscle being built.Jon’s celebration-first approach isn’t naive optimism. Starting with “What do we love about Peckham?” creates different energy than starting with “What’s wrong with our neighbourhood?” Love builds the container strong enough to hold difficult conversations about challenges. Problems divide; shared appreciation unites.From Consumer to Citizen: The Transformation FrameworkThe consumer story – people as self-interested choosers between fixed options – shaped everything from politics to business models. Consumer democracy meant voters choosing between pre-set candidates based on personal benefit. Consumer economics meant businesses competing for individual purchases. Consumer coworking meant members paying for services they consumed.Jon traces how this story is collapsing everywhere. Brexit wasn’t rational consumer choice; it was emotional rejection of the entire system. Trump’s appeal wasn’t policy comparison; it was promise of a strong leader who’d handle everything. The rise of authoritarian populism represents return to the subject story – citizens as subjects of powerful leaders rather than agents of change.The citizen story offers different logic: collective intelligence, shared agency, collaborative problem-solving. In coworking terms, it’s the difference between providing services and creating platforms for participation.Bernie’s instinct about not needing “a big hook to get people in” connects to Jon’s framework. The right hook isn’t a gimmick; it’s genuine invitation to participate in something meaningful.The Three Ps: Purpose, Platform, PrototypeJon’s alternative to the marketing 4Ps restructures how coworking spaces think about themselves. Purpose asks: What are we really trying to do that’s so important we need community help? Platform asks: What structures make participation meaningful and joyful? Prototype asks: How do we spot and feed existing energy?Purpose for most spaces connects to place. They’re not just providing workspace; they’re helping Camden become more creative, or supporting young entrepreneurs in Birmingham, or keeping artists in affordable neighbourhoods. But naming that purpose as a question – How can we work together to make this place flourish? – invites participation instead of consumption.Platform thinking shifts from programming events to creating structures where others can initiate. Instead of Bernie organising everything, Write Club created space for whoever had energy for keyboard writing or poetry readings or journalism discussions. The platform enabled emergence rather than controlling it.Prototype recognises that transformation happens through small experiments, not grand plans. You can’t necessarily become a full civic catalyst overnight. But you can spot when someone has energy for Sicilian cupcake events and feed that passion. Energy is the seed; community attention is the soil; shared space is the greenhouse.The Economics of Inch-Wide, Mile-Deep ChangeAdrienne Maree Brown’s framework – “inch-wide, mile-deep change that schisms the existing paradigm” – speaks directly to coworking economics. Mile-wide, inch-deep approaches try to serve everyone and transform nothing. They chase scale over impact, quantity over quality.Inch-wide, mile-deep means committing fully to your specific place, demographic, or mission. That Camden space with the 3D printer could have gone mile-deep on maker culture, on manufacturing innovation, on creative technology. Instead of comp

"I'm the poster child for FLOC, because since I've joined, I've completely expanded my network. I've made so many connections."Caroline Van den Eynde doesn't fit the typical profile of a coworking founder. She stumbled into the industry three and a half years ago when a recruiter called about a marketing role at IQ Offices — and she'd never heard of coworking.Now she's the Director of Sales and Marketing for IQ's eight Canadian locations and the Marketing Director for FLOC (Future Leaders of Coworking), a peer-led community that fills a gap most people in the industry didn't realise existed.The gap? Peer connections. Real ones.While CEOs and founders network over dinner at conferences, everyone else — including community managers, marketing directors, and operations staff — often finds themselves without peers to learn from. Caroline discovered this firsthand when she realised most of her coworking connections came through her CEO Caine Wilma's introductions to other CEOs."I was lacking those relationships with other people in the industry who are at my level," she explains. "People who I could talk to about the day-to-day things that were happening and the challenges."Enter FLOC, launched by Sam Shay to create exactly those peer-to-peer connections. Just under six months in as Marketing Director, Caroline has become living proof of what happens when you build genuine community in the coworking world. Double the expected turnout at their GCUC Boston "FLOCtail." Members are getting vulnerable about mistakes and learnings. Real knowledge sharing that saves people from repeating each other's errors.But FLOC isn't just about networking. They're leading a campaign that reveals how invisible the coworking industry remains: getting LinkedIn to recognise "coworking" as an official industry category. Currently, you can filter for various niche industries in LinkedIn's dropdown menu, but not for coworking.Four hundred signatures and counting on their change.org petition. They're pushing for a thousand before taking it to LinkedIn.Caroline's journey from psychology graduate to coworking champion also reveals something about how this industry shapes careers. Her psychology background prepared her for marketing in ways business school might not have — understanding people, behaviour, and what drives genuine connection.Now at IQ Offices, she's leading the kind of strategic focus the industry needs more of. Through data analysis, they've discovered 84% of their revenue comes from enterprise clients, so they're leaning into that niche instead of trying to serve everyone."Future state, I think we're going to see spaces no longer focus on fast Wi-Fi and good coffee. Everybody has that," Caroline observes. "We're at that point in the industry where that's a given."This conversation captures someone who makes things happen — Caroline's self-described superpower — while building the infrastructure for others to do the same.Timeline Highlights[01:20] Caroline's definition: "I'm known as someone who makes things happen"[02:20] "I will do anything to get to the end... I get a lot of satisfaction from completing something"[06:47] The leap from Paris to Canada: "I pulled the plug and I was like, I'm moving to Canada, even though I've never been there"[08:59] Stumbling into coworking: "I met a recruiter... to be honest with you, at that point, I had no idea what coworking was"[10:31] The peer connection problem: "I was lacking those relationships with other people in the industry who are at my level"[13:34] FLOC's impact: "We had double the amount of people show up... It's so nice to have a place to come to make those face-to-face connections"[16:01] "There's just so much potential. There are thousands of people across North America, across the UK, and everywhere else that work in coworking"[20:12] The education challenge: "There's still a lot of misconception about what coworking really is"[22:42] Changing how she explains coworking: "I completely changed my thought process... now I actually take the time to explain it"[25:29] The enterprise realisation: "We had two companies, one leaving, one going, but for the exact same reason"[28:25] The LinkedIn campaign: "We just hit 400 signatures... we're pushing to get that to a thousand"[30:33] Meeting in person: "A few of us will be at GCUC London in October"When the Founders Get Dinner and Everyone Else Gets NothingHere's the thing about coworking conferences: CEOs and founders eat well together. They network over dinner, share war stories, and make deals.Community managers queue for coffee alone. Caroline lived this for three years.Every industry connection came through her CEO, who introduced her to another CEO. Meanwhile, she's running day-to-day operations, solving real problems, with no one at her level to learn from.Then FLOC happened. Those monthly "Cherp and Chat" calls became something nobody expected—people actually told the truth. About mistakes. About what doesn't work. About the messy reality behind the LinkedIn posts.80% of FLOC members say peer connections matter most. Not the workshops or the resources—the conversations with someone who gets it.The "FLOCtail" at GCUC Boston proved the point. They expected maybe twenty people. Forty showed up. All hungry for the same thing: someone else dealing with the same daily chaos.Numbers Don't LieCaroline ran the data at IQ Offices. 84% of revenue comes from enterprise clients.So they stopped trying to please everyone.The moment that crystallised it: the same day, one medium-sized business left due to cost-cutting. One enterprise client joined because of cost-cutting. Same reason, different worlds, different value propositions.Most coworking spaces still believe they need to cater to everyone. Startups, freelancers, corporates, remote workers, creatives—the lot. Caroline's team proved otherwise.Enterprise clients want something specific. They require different tours, proposals, and messaging. So IQ leaned in hard."Future state, I think we're going to see spaces no longer focus on fast Wi-Fi and good coffee. Everybody has that," Caroline says. "We're at that point in the industry where that's a given."The businesses that survive will be the ones that people can easily distinguish.The Invisible IndustryFLOC's petition sits at 400 signatures. Target: 1,000.The ask? Get LinkedIn to add "coworking" to their industry dropdown menu.Right now, you can filter for dozens of niche industries. Coworking isn't one of them. For an industry employing thousands across every major city, that's a problem.Not because of the dropdown itself—because of what it represents. Career paths people can't name. Job searches that don't work. Professional identities built around an industry that doesn't officially exist.Caroline changed how she explains her work. Used to be: "Oh, do you know WeWork? Well, I work for a competitor." Now she takes time to actually explain what coworking is."To my surprise, once you actually do that, a lot of people get it," she says. "Then you start getting responses like, 'Oh yes, I'm sure after COVID, that's become really popular.'"The shift from defensive to educational. From apologising for the industry to explaining why it matters.From Psychology to People-Centred MarketingCaroline's background in psychology — chosen as a stepping stone to marketing when business school was too expensive as an international student — reveals something about non-traditional paths into coworking.Psychology provided her with tools for understanding behaviour, motivation, and what drives genuine connection. Skills that translate directly to community building, member engagement, and strategic positioning.Her self-awareness about being someone who "makes things happen", combined with strategic thinking, creates a profile the industry needs more of: operators who can execute while building systems for others to succeed.The intentionality she describes — never doing anything just for the sake of doing it, always understanding the why — reflects the kind of thoughtful approach that builds sustainable community infrastructure.The Vulnerability FactorOne of the most striking elements of Caroline's FLOC experience is how naturally vulnerability emerged in their community calls. She expected they might need to encourage people to share mistakes and learnings, but instead found members immediately willing to be honest about challenges.This speaks to something deeper about the coworking community's readiness for authentic connection. When the infrastructure exists — such as FLOC's monthly "Cherp and Chat" calls — people are eager to move beyond surface-level professional interactions.The willingness to share mistakes becomes a resource for the entire community. Knowledge transfer that prevents others from repeating the same errors. The kind of collective learning that accelerates individual and industry growth.Future-Proofing Through FocusCaroline's prediction about the industry's future resonates: spaces will stop competing on Wi-Fi and coffee (table stakes) and start differentiating through their specific value propositions and target audiences.The enterprise focus at IQ Offices represents this kind of strategic clarity. Understanding that enterprise clients need different solutions than startups, and leaning into serving that need exceptionally well, rather than trying to serve everyone adequately.This kind of niche focus — whether it's enterprise clients, creative communities, or local economic development — represents the industry's evolution from generic "coworking" to specific problem-solving for specific communities.Links & ResourcesCaroline's Work* IQ Offices: Canadian coworking with eight locations* FLOC (Future Leaders of Coworking)* FLOC LinkedIn page* Caroline Van den Eynde LinkedInThe LinkedIn Campaign* Change.org petition: Get LinkedIn to recognise coworking as an official industry categoryEvents & Community* GCUC London: October conference, whe

Episode Summary“I'm teaching them how to use ChatGPT to write a letter to their landlord to tell them off about the mould in the corner of their child's bedroom.”That single sentence from Williamz Omope cuts through the noise of the entire tech and coworking industry. This isn't about AI for productivity hacks or scaling a startup. This is about using tools to restore dignity and agency to people the system has forgotten. With over 18 years in the trenches of community work in North London, Williamz is the founder of WO Consultancy, a Community Interest Company that runs job clubs with a radical principle. There are no rules for who gets help.This conversation is a necessary dose of reality for any coworking operator who uses the word "community." Williamz draws a sharp, uncomfortable line between his job club—hosted at SPACE4 in Finsbury Park—and the official, bureaucratic support of a Jobcentre. One is a system of gatekeeping, where you must prove your need and fit into a box to receive help. The other is a place of unconditional support, where your right to assistance is based on you showing up.We get into the messy, human reality of this work. It’s a constant, uphill battle against a system Williamz calls "the powers that be," a system that expects people to fail. He discusses the "tough love" required—inspired by his own mentors—to foster confidence, not dependency. This isn't about solving people's problems for them; it's about giving them the tools and the safe space to solve them for themselves.For any coworking space owner feeling disconnected from the neighbourhood outside their door, this episode is a blueprint. It's a story about what happens when a place designed for business becomes a place for all people, and it offers a robust, practical model for how your space can become a vital piece of civic infrastructure, one person at a time.Timeline Highlights“I want to be known for being disruptive in all the things that I do.” Why Williamz hates terms like "hard to reach": "I don't like using these terms because I just call it community." The reality of digital inclusion: using ChatGPT to write a letter to a landlord about mould in a child's bedroom. The Personal Motivation: How a Tough French Teacher and a Persistent PE Teacher Shaped His Mission. The stark reality of the system: "The powers that be... they expect you to fall to the wayside." The first signs of real community: when the regulars start telling you off for not being there. How to Stay Motivated in an Uphill Battle: Taking Stock of How Far You've Come. The crucial difference between the Job Club and the Jobcentre: "Our support is ongoing." The radical, unconventional core principle: "There's no eligibility criteria." The top three needs: A new CV, basic computer skills, and the confidence to use them. The tough love approach: "I want you to sink or swim, but we're going to be the life raft right there." The "easy win" for coworking spaces: genuinely engaging the wider community to bridge the gap.Thematic Breakdown Sections"You Don't Have to Prove Anything"The most disruptive idea in this entire conversation is also the simplest. The Finsbury Park Job Club has no eligibility criteria. In a world of means-testing, gatekeeping, and bureaucratic hurdles, this is a radical act. Williamz contrasts his model directly with the Jobcentre, where support is conditional. To receive help from the state, you must meet a specific profile: being unemployed for six months, being a refugee, or being over 50. You must perform your need. At Williamz's job club, you have to walk through the door.This isn't just a procedural difference; it's a fundamental shift in the power dynamic. It treats people with inherent dignity. It removes the shame and stress of having to justify your existence to "the powers that be." By offering unconditional support, the job club becomes a safe space where people can be vulnerable enough to ask for help, whether it's changing an email on a CV or building one from scratch after a lifetime of work. It’s a tangible expression of trust in a system that, by default, is deeply distrustful.For coworking operators, this is a profound challenge. What are the unwritten eligibility criteria for your community? Who feels welcome, and who feels excluded? Williamz's model proves that the most powerful way to build community is to remove the barriers to entry, offering help with no catch.The Powers That Be (And Why They Don't Care)Williamz refers to "the powers that be" throughout the conversation. It’s his shorthand for the faceless, impersonal system that dictates the rules but offers no real support for those who can't follow them. This system "expects you to fall by the wayside." It builds a website for GP appointments or a portal for benefits applications and assumes everyone has the skills, confidence, and equipment to use it. There is no plan for those who don't.This is the sharp end of digital exclusion. It’s not a theoretical problem; it’s a daily reality that locks people out of essential services, from healthcare to housing. The job club acts as a human interface to this cold, digital bureaucracy. Williamz isn’t just teaching people how to click a link; he's translating the hostile language of the system and equipping them to navigate it.This connects directly to the "unequal economy" described in the guest research. The system isn't broken; for a specific segment, it's working exactly as designed. It efficiently filters out those who cannot keep up. The work Williamz does is a form of resistance, creating a lifeline for those the system would otherwise discard.Tough Love is a Form of RespectWilliamz's approach isn't about coddling people; he describes it as "tough love." He wants you to "sink or swim," but promises to "be the life raft right there." This philosophy was forged by his own mentors—a French teacher who encouraged him to pursue African Studies, and a PE teacher who insisted he attend training—who saw his potential and refused to let him fail. He understands that real support isn't about doing things for someone; it's about creating the conditions for them to learn to do it themselves.This is a critical distinction between charity and empowerment. By refusing to let attendees feel stupid, but still insisting they learn the skill, he is showing them the ultimate respect. He is telling them, "I believe you are capable of this." For individuals whose confidence has been eroded by unemployment or a daunting, unfamiliar digital world, this belief is often the most important service he provides. It’s the foundation upon which skills like CV writing and online job applications are built.From a Space in a Library to a Place of BelongingBernie asks Williamz to describe the community, and the answer is beautifully tangible. It’s when regulars have a rapport with specific volunteers. It's when attendees start providing peer-to-peer support to each other. It’s when they tell him off for not showing up one week because they were waiting for him. This is what it looks like when a transactional space becomes a relational place.This transformation is crucial. The job club, hosted in a coworking space like SPACE4, becomes a piece of civic infrastructure where belonging is felt, not just talked about. As the guest research highlights, this is the core of the Coworking Citizenship Playbook: "belonging is a precondition to participation." You cannot expect someone to participate, to feel agency, if they first don't feel like they belong somewhere.Williamz is creating that feeling every Friday. It’s not a line item on a funding application, but it is the most valuable outcome of his work. He’s building the social fabric that allows people to regain their footing and, from there, re-engage with the wider world.The Real Meaning of Digital InclusionThe story of teaching a mother to use ChatGPT to complain about mould is the perfect microcosm of Williamz's entire philosophy. Most digital inclusion initiatives stop at teaching basic IT skills—how to open a browser, how to send an email. Williamz goes a vital step further. He's not just teaching the how; he's teaching the why. He's connecting the tool directly to a point of pain in someone's life.This is the difference between abstract knowledge and applied power. The mother doesn't need to know the theory behind large language models. She needs to solve a dangerous and undignified problem for her family. By framing technology as a weapon for self-advocacy, Williamz demystifies it and makes it immediately relevant. It's not about being "tech-savvy"; it's about getting justice.This redefines what digital inclusion should be about. It’s not about ensuring everyone can consume digital services. It’s about ensuring everyone has the tools and confidence to advocate for themselves and hold power to account. It’s about turning digital literacy into an instrument of agency.The "Easy Win" Most Coworking Spaces Are MissingRight at the end of the conversation, Williamz offers the most direct piece of advice for coworking operators. He points out that many local residents would never think to walk into a space like SPACE4 unless there was a specific, accessible reason to do so—like the Job Club. The space can feel intimidating or irrelevant to those who aren't in the tech or startup world.The "easy win" is to create genuine entry points for the wider community. It’s about having "things that the wider community feel comfortable going to and attending." By hosting a job club, the coworking space becomes a bridge. It brings in a captive audience of local residents who can then be gently introduced to the other courses, workshops, and opportunities the space offers.This isn't about cynical marketing; it's about fulfilling the promise of being a community hub. It requires operators to look beyond their existing members and ask: who are we not serving? How can we open our doors in a way that feels genuinely welco

Episode Summary"I only want to work with people that I like... people who don't affect my nervous system. Some people will laugh and go, What? That's crazy. But I suppose what I'm really saying is I like to work with people who don't affect my nervous system, and that's really important."This isn't community-building advice. This is a revolutionary business strategy.Ali Kakande sits across from Bernie, explaining how she went from "sat on my bed writing funding applications on a piece of paper and phoning my Auntie, going, 'Have I got this budget right?'" to running Carib Eats—a community infrastructure project with a 95% return rate that people trust with keys to their buildings.The transformation didn't happen through business courses or growth hacking. It happened because Ali figured out how to make a living by being genuinely herself."I can sit next to a stranger on the bus, and before you know it, they're telling me they had heart surgery two years ago," she explains. That's not a community-building technique—that's a superpower that became a sustainable business model.Five years ago, Carib Eats started as a COVID-19 crisis response. Today, it's a permanent civic infrastructure operating across London through partnerships with Urban MBA, Black Cultural Centre in Islington, and multiple Hackney locations. The model is deceptively simple: food, connection, and being true to yourself.But the real story isn't about community building. It's about economic agency through an authentic relationship. Ali demonstrates something coworking operators desperately need to understand: you can build a sustainable business by serving people genuinely, without compromising who you are or affecting your nervous system.This conversation reveals why most community programming fails, how to design spaces where everyone belongs, and why your gut reaction to potential partners might be your best business advisor.You'll leave understanding that the 95% return rate isn't just a community metric—it's proof that being yourself is the most sustainable business strategy available.⏱ Timeline Highlights[01:20] "I want to be known for connection and showing up as yourself. Not everybody can do that, unfortunately."[02:28] The Urban MBA partnership origin: "On paper, you think, Oh, how's a 70-year-old lady from Grenada going to relate to being in this tech space? Very well, actually."[04:45] The digital divide revelation: "I truly believe that our communities are being left behind. I had an assumption that everybody uses AI, but that's not the case."[06:07] The Arsenal tour breakthrough: "She was able to be at that tour because of how much time AI was giving her back."[08:17] From crisis to infrastructure: "We weren't a business. It wasn't anything. It was just a response to a call from the community about hunger."[11:41] The full commitment moment: "There's got to come a point where you've got to have both feet in. I made that decision. It was really scary."[13:02] The trust metric: "Carib Eats is trusted to get the keys. When somebody trusts you with keys and you've not burnt the place down, then somebody else goes, Oh, yeah, we can trust them."[15:32] The connection superpower: "I can sit next to a stranger on the bus, and before you know it, they're telling me they had heart surgery two years ago. That's my world."[18:20] The northern expansion call: "I want to do this north, so anybody's listening. I'm from Bolton or any surrounding area."[19:45] The question everyone asks: "How do I get people to come to my thing?"[26:27] The 95% return rate reveals: "I'm really proud to be able to say that we've got a 95% return rate. Most people come back."[29:25] The nervous system business strategy: "I only want to work with people that I like... people who don't affect my nervous system."The Nervous System Business ModelThe moment that stops the conversation happens when Ali reveals her business philosophy: "I only want to work with people that I like." Bernie immediately recognises this isn't naive idealism—it's a sophisticated business strategy."People who don't affect my nervous system," Ali clarifies. "If I see their name come up on my phone and my gut is going off, that's a sign for me. I've had to say no to some opportunities. I'm glad I've done that because it would have affected my sanity."This challenges everything coworking operators are told about growth and opportunity. Ali demonstrates that sustainable business comes from protecting your energy, not maximising your options. The 95% return rate isn't just community success—it's proof that nervous system management creates better business outcomes than traditional networking.For coworking spaces struggling with difficult members or toxic partnerships, Ali's approach offers a different framework: your gut reaction might be your best business advisor.From Crisis Response to Economic AgencyThe real transformation story isn't about community building—it's about economic independence. Ali moved from "working five days, then working four days, then working three days, then working two days for someone else" to becoming what Bernie calls "an independent economic agent."The transition happened through a relationship, not a strategy. "Very rarely do people come and knock on my door," Ali explains. She finds opportunities through newsletters, applies for residencies, proves the model works, and earns trust. "The proof is in the pudding."But the foundation is a genuine connection. The 95% return rate exists because people feel seen, not served. The partnerships work because Ali only collaborates with people who don't affect her nervous system. The business sustains because it's built on an authentic relationship, not a transactional exchange.This offers a different model for coworking operators: economic sustainability through genuine service, not growth hacking through manufactured community.The Residency RevolutionAli's expansion strategy reveals something coworking spaces should pay attention to: the residency model. Instead of building permanent locations, Carib Eats partners with existing spaces—Urban MBA, Black Cultural Centre, and various Hackney locations."What's really interesting is that Carib Eats is trusted to get the keys," Ali explains. The trust comes from consistent delivery, not marketing promises. "When somebody trusts you with keys and they can see what you've done and you've not burnt the place down, then somebody else goes, Oh, yeah, we can trust them."Bernie's real-time realisation during the conversation captures the opportunity: "What you did in Urban MBA, where you come and cook and people get a lesson there, it's a very rock solid way of connecting with people in the local community that you would not otherwise have connected with."For coworking operators, this suggests a different approach to community engagement. Instead of hoping local community members will become members, invite community organisations to use your space for programming that serves people who would never otherwise enter.The Connection Superpower as Business Asset"I can sit next to a stranger on the bus, and before you know it, they're telling me they had heart surgery two years ago. That's my world. But a lot of people's world, that's not."Ali's connection ability isn't just personality—it's business infrastructure. The 95% return rate exists because people experience genuine interest, not professional networking. The partnerships work because Ali approaches collaboration as a relationship, not a transaction."Give people the opportunity to connect, they will," she explains. "Often, I think people think, What do I have in common with somebody? Initially, you might not see it or think there is, but there is."This challenges how most coworking spaces approach community programming. Events that start with networking or education often fail because they skip the belonging step. Ali's model suggests you need to create safety before asking for engagement.Design for Belonging, Not NetworkingThe most practical insight comes from Ali's space design philosophy. "Everybody can see each other, and where our tables are set up, everybody can see each other. You can be a really quiet character in the Caribbean and benefit from the laughter and the joy and the fun. Or you could be one of those loud characters. But it's how you are greeted."The greeting protocol isn't customer service—it's belonging infrastructure. "When somebody comes through that door, make sure you say hello. Do you want a cup of tea? Take a seat."Ali's 95% return rate proves this works. "Most people come back, and the ones that don't come back, I can normally see they're not going to come back because it's probably not the space for them because it is Carib Eats. That's what we do."For coworking operators, this suggests focusing on consistent welcome protocols over sophisticated community programming. The greeting matters more than the agenda.The Wisdom Exchange ModelOne of Ali's most innovative projects gets mentioned almost in passing: the Wisdom Exchange, bringing young people into conversation with elders for knowledge sharing. "It doesn't matter what the exchange is. It could be anything."This reveals something profound about community programming: the content matters less than the connection. Whether it's AI literacy, cooking skills, or life experience, the real value is in creating conditions for intergenerational relationship building.The model translates directly to coworking contexts. Instead of age-segregated programming (young entrepreneur meetups, senior professional networks), what happens when you intentionally mix generations around shared learning?The Trust Economy in PracticeAli's business model operates in what economists call the trust economy—value created through relationship rather than transaction. The 95% return rate, the keys to buildings, and the word-of-mouth expansion all demonstrate trust as a measurable business as

Episode Summary"You got to be crazy to start a coworking space. Because just as many small businesses, not just in the coworking industry, in all industries, they fail. To start a coworking is to put yourself on the path to failure because it's entrepreneurial journey."Fanny Marcoux knows something about crazy. She's the host of “A very special coworking”, a podcast that has quietly become the most diverse collection of coworking stories on the internet. Thirty-six episodes deep, spanning three continents, featuring everyone from solo community managers to operators running thousands of members across multiple locations.This isn't your typical coworking conversation. Fanny's developed a deceptively simple framework — past, present, future — inspired by Christmas ghosts, of all things.Five questions that reveal the true story behind every space. What emerges isn't the polished startup narrative we're used to hearing. It's the messy, human truth of what it actually takes to build community.Bernie caught up with Fanny to explore what she's learned from cataloguing these stories. The conversation winds through a Serbian town where a tech company saved a failing coworking space, the difference between community and networking (spoiler: it's messier than you think), and why the most interesting coworking stories often come from the least famous operators.There's also the story of Željko from Inspirahub — a tale of failure, persistence, and unexpected partnership that perfectly captures why coworking operators need each other more than they realise. Plus, a frank discussion about why event planning in coworking spaces feels like organising a party where everyone says they'll come and nobody shows up.This is for anyone who's ever wondered if their coworking story matters, felt isolated in their community-building journey, or questioned whether there's space for diverse voices in an industry that sometimes feels dominated by Silicon Valley narratives.You'll leave knowing exactly where to find the coworking community that's been waiting for you all along.⏱ Timeline Highlights[01:19] "What I would love to be known for is... getting it to get more known, more popular, and to share the stories"[03:27] Why the LinkedIn coworking group works: "That's where a lot of conversation is happening about coworking"[05:29] Fanny reveals her Christmas ghosts framework: past, present, future questions inspired by A Christmas Carol[09:58] The Željko story begins: A Serbian coworking space that failed, persisted, and found salvation through local partnership[11:14] "He was thinking about closing it again. Then he had a partnership with a local business, a big company in Serbia"[13:48] "In a smaller town, it really is [a hub] because that's the one place that people can gather to work together"[16:10] "When I started, I expected that coworking was doing a lot of good... But now I know that it's a crazy story as well"[17:47] Bernie's killer question: "When someone says to you, Fanny, I'm thinking of starting a coworking space, what do you want to scream at them?"[19:14] The difference between coworking and shared office: "It's really about gathering people to do deep work, to do some social events. It's really about the community"[21:50] The event planning paradox: "People ask for those [events]. So you're like, okay... but when I organise them, no one's showing up"[24:57] "I want to explore and discover them all. I thought at some point I wanted to interview all the coworking managers or their"[26:35] Fanny considers rebranding to "A Very Crazy coworking" because "it's crazy out there"[29:17] "When you put yourself in their shoes, it's difficult when you start, you don't know where to go, you don't know who to ask"The Crazy Truth About Starting Coworking SpacesFanny doesn't sugar-coat what she's learned from 36 conversations. Starting a coworking space is "putting yourself on the path to failure" — not because the idea is bad, but because entrepreneurship is inherently risky and coworking adds layers of complexity most people don't anticipate.Her advice cuts straight to the bone: "Are you sure? Have you talked to other coworking managers?" It sounds almost dismissive until you realise she's trying to save people from the isolation that kills most spaces. The operators who succeed aren't necessarily the ones with the best business plans. They're the ones who found their tribe early.The Serbian story of Inspirahub illustrates this perfectly. Željko tried the lone wolf approach twice — failed both times. Success only came when he found a partner who understood that supporting the local community wasn't just nice to have, it was essential infrastructure. The company name is Inspira Group, and together they created something that's now thriving five years later in a bigger location.This isn't just about business partnerships. It's about recognising that coworking, especially in smaller towns, becomes genuine civic infrastructure. When you're the only place people can gather to work together, hold events, and cross-pollinate ideas, you're not just running a business. You're stewarding something bigger.The Christmas Ghosts Framework for Better ConversationsFanny's five-question structure sounds simple until you realise how deliberately designed it is. Three questions covering past, present, and future. One open-ended question: "Is there anything else you want to talk about?" One practical closer: "What's the best way to contact you?"The genius is in what she doesn't ask. No credentials recitation. No elevator pitch requests. Just the human story of how someone got here, what they're building now, and where they're headed. The Christmas Carol inspiration gives her a narrative spine that guests can follow naturally.Bernie's approach is more instinctual — he follows curiosity wherever it leads. But there's something to be said for Fanny's structure. When you're talking to operators from different continents, languages, and contexts, having a reliable framework means you can focus on listening instead of thinking about what to ask next.The "anything else" question consistently produces the most interesting content. It's where guests share the thing they came to talk about but weren't sure how to bring up. It's also where the real personality emerges, unguarded and unscripted.Why Event Planning Feels ImpossibleOne of the most relatable moments in this conversation is Fanny describing the coworking event paradox. Members ask for events. You plan events based on their feedback. Nobody shows up. Rinse and repeat until you question everything you know about community building.This isn't a failure of programming. It's a feature of how human connection actually works. People want the option of community more than they want to be obligated to it. They want to know events exist, that there's a place to go if they need it, even if they never actually go.Understanding this changes how you approach event planning. Success isn't measured by attendance. It's measured by the sense of possibility you create. The regular who finally brings their friend to something. The shy member who starts staying for coffee after events end. The spontaneous conversations that happen because people know there's usually something going on.Bernie's story about the English woman in Singapore captures this perfectly — sometimes people come to coworking spaces precisely because they don't want to talk to anyone. That's valid too. The skill is creating spaces where both kinds of people can coexist.Finding the Stories That Don't Get ToldWhat strikes you about Fanny's guest list isn't who's on it — it's who isn't. No parade of unicorn founders or venture-backed franchise operators. Instead: community managers in tiny spaces, first-year operators still figuring things out, people running virtual coworking communities without physical spaces.This diversity isn't accidental. It's strategic. The stories that don't get amplified are often the ones that reveal how coworking actually works in the real world. Not the sanitised case studies designed for conference presentations, but the messy human reality of trying to build something sustainable while keeping your sanity intact.When Bernie talks about wanting more "rest of the world" perspectives, he's identifying the same gap. So much of the coworking conversation is European and North American-centric, but some of the most innovative community building is happening in places that don't get covered by the usual media.Fanny's geographical organisation — Americas, Europe, Asia — acknowledges that context matters. What works in London might not work in a Serbian town. What makes sense in Singapore might be irrelevant in rural Canada. But the underlying human challenges remain surprisingly consistent.The LinkedIn Group That Actually WorksThroughout this conversation, both Bernie and Fanny keep circling back to the LinkedIn coworking group. Not because it's perfect, but because it's functional in a way that many online coworking communities aren't.The difference seems to be that it's a closed group, not the whole internet. People feel safer being honest about their struggles. The conversations feel more like professional development than content marketing. And crucially, several podcast hosts use it to share their episodes, creating a feedback loop of stories and discussions.This is worth studying. Most online communities die because they become either echo chambers or broadcasting platforms. The LinkedIn group works because it maintains enough structure to feel purposeful while staying loose enough to feel human.The conversation about creating a comprehensive resource directory is interesting but tricky. Everyone agrees it would be useful. The challenge is that resource directories require maintenance, and maintenance requires sustained motivation. The projects that tend to work are the ones where the maintenance is intrinsically rewarding for the

Episode Summary"They use weapons of mass destruction, division, and distraction. Be the antidote, be a weapon of mass creation."Samia Tossio calls herself a "playful creative activist," but there's nothing playful about watching 59 family members killed in Gaza whilst living in suburban Sutton. What emerges from that brutal reality is something extraordinary: a community artist who transforms grief into solidarity, silk into resistance, and a local coworking space into a sanctuary for the conversations everyone else is too afraid to have.This isn't a conversation about Palestine that happens to mention coworking. It's a conversation about what happens when community spaces choose courage over comfort, when they recognise their role as civic infrastructure rather than just desk rental. Samia met Vibushan and Paul from Oru Space when their venue was still a building site. By June 2024, when she walked in carrying silk Palestine protest banners, their first response wasn't hesitation—it was "How can we help?"What followed was £12,000 raised in one evening for a water well in North Gaza. Not through corporate sponsorship or grant applications, but through community, conversation, and the radical act of showing up for each other's humanity.Bernie connected with Samia during Refugee Week, drawn by what Oru Space represents: the first coworking space he'd found in London willing to create space for Gaza solidarity work. In a city with over a thousand coworking spaces, that statistic should make every community builder pause.Samia's Brutiful Tales project—co-creating massive silk panels with communities across Palestine and the UK—embodies everything coworking claims to be about: collaboration, creativity, and connection across difference. Her recent trip to Palestine in early 2025 brought back not just stories but a responsibility to amplify Palestinian voices through art that refuses to be ignored.The conversation moves between the intensely personal—Samia's grandfather's renowned jewellery and watch repair shop was bombed in the 1930s, her cousin's life in Jerusalem, the weight of inherited displacement—and the urgently practical: how community spaces can choose to be part of healing rather than hiding from the world's pain.This episode is for anyone who believes coworking can be more than productivity theatre. It's for space operators wondering how to create a genuine community rather than just efficient networks. It's for anyone who's ever felt the gap between their values and their venue, between what they say they stand for and what they actually make space for.Timeline Highlights[01:39] "What are you known for and what would you like to be known for?" – Bernie's opening question reveals Samia's evolution into creative activism[03:25] The moment that changed everything: "How is everything going?" Vibushan asked, and Samia shared that 59 family members had been killed since October 7th.[05:08] "Right, let's help you. How can we help?" – Vibushan's immediate response, offering free use of Oru Space for fundraising[06:33] "How can we do more?" – Vibushan's commitment to amplification beyond the initial £6,000 raised[08:02] "I was there this year" – Samia's revelation about visiting Palestine in February/March 2025[08:22] "One word: Brutiful. Both brutal but so beautiful" – How a friend's question birthed the name for Samia's project[13:54] The privilege and pain of movement: "Because I'm a grandchild of the Nakba"[15:46] "My dad never spoke in anger or hatred" – The generational wisdom that shapes Samia's approach[17:02] "Resolve the problem in Palestine and watch many of the world's problems disappear" – Her father's prophetic words[22:14] "Choose wisely. It's really awful to be able... The energy that we have to go through"[23:22] "They use weapons of mass destruction, division, and distraction. Be the antidote, be a weapon of mass creation"[26:15] The miraculous creative flow: separation wall panels painted like a xylophone "to make them brutiful"[29:03] The exhaustion of creation: "I actually needed to just stop looking at what was going on and get my energy back"The Politics of PresenceWhat strikes you first about Oru Space isn't their furniture or their WiFi. It's their willingness to hold space for the conversations that matter most. When Samia walked in carrying Palestine protest banners, Vibushan didn't ask her to check her politics at the door. He asked how he could help.This isn't performative allyship or virtue signalling. It's what happens when community builders understand their role as civic infrastructure. Vibushan himself is a first-generation Sri Lankan Tamil refugee—he knows what it means to need sanctuary, to need amplification, to need someone to say "your story matters here."The result? £50,000 raised by Sutton Friends of Palestine since their first fundraiser. Not through institutional channels or corporate partnerships, but through the radical act of community showing up for community. When spaces create genuine belonging, people don't just rent desks—they build movements.Art as Resistance InfrastructureSamia's Brutiful Tales project transforms collective witness into collective creation. Each silk panel—some two metres, some three metres, some five metres long—becomes a canvas for community response to Palestinian stories. The first panel features artwork by globally renowned Palestinian artist Sliman Mansour alongside contributions from audience members at Samia's talks.The process is as important as the product. During a Zoom session with Seraj Library in Ramallah, a military presence interrupted their co-creation session. Children were left scared as tear gas filled the streets. This wasn't abstract solidarity work—it was a real-time witness to daily reality under occupation.Yet the work continues. Panel three is being created by Art to Heart, a disability arts organisation in Nablus, in partnership with the An-Najah National University Faculty of Arts.The Silk Roads connect not just places but possibilities, proving that creativity can cross any border, survive any checkpoint.The Economics of CourageHere's what most coworking operators miss: taking a stand isn't a business risk—it's a business strategy. When Oru Space chose to support Palestine solidarity work, they didn't lose members. They found their tribe.The people who show up for hard conversations are the same people who show up for community. They're the members who attend events, refer friends, and see their workspace as more than just hot desks and meeting rooms. They understand that belonging isn't about agreeing on everything—it's about creating space for everyone's full humanity.Bernie's observation haunts this conversation: in a city with over a thousand coworking spaces, Oru Space was the only one he found addressing Gaza solidarity work. That's not just a missed opportunity—it's a failure of imagination about what community spaces can be.The Spiritual Physics of Creation"You are really either humanKIND or you're humanCRUEL," Samia says. "Actually, it's a choice that you've got to make. So just make that choice and choose wisely." This isn't theology—it's physics. Every space, every community, every conversation either builds connection or erodes it.Samia describes looking over both shoulders at the end of her life, asking what wake she's left behind. "I don't want to see that I've left turbulence, destruction, devastation. I'm planting seeds and pretty little flowers." This is the spiritual work of community building: understanding that every interaction either plants seeds or spreads poison.The brutiful—that space between brutal and beautiful—is where real community lives. It's where Samia processes grief into art, where Oru Space transforms desk rental into movement infrastructure, where ordinary people discover their capacity for extraordinary solidarity.Community as Communication in UnitySamia defines community as "communication in unity through diversity and inclusion." Not uniformity. Not agreement. Unity—the recognition that our liberation is interconnected, that when anyone is unfree, none of us are fully free.This understanding transforms how we approach community building in coworking spaces. It's not about creating echo chambers or avoiding difficult topics. It's about creating containers strong enough to hold difference, brave enough to name injustice, generous enough to centre healing.When Samia's cousin showed her around Jaffa, they sat on the steps where her grandfather's jewellery shop once stood—bombed in the late 1930s. The building is gone, but the stories remain. The exile continues, but so does the resistance. The brutality is real, but so is the beauty.Links & ResourcesSamia Tossio's Work* Brutiful Tales Instagram * Samia on Instagram* Samia's website* Samia on LinkedIn* Samia on YouTube* Peace of Silk project on Instgram* Sutton Friends of Palestine * Brutiful Tales at Refugee Week in June 2025* Paolo Tossio DJ - (Samia’s husband and resident DJ @ OruSpace) * GoFundMe page for "Brutiful Tales"Projects & Community* Oru Space Sutton and Dulwich in London* 🎙️Fighting to Belong: Building Places Where Everyone Can with Vibushan Thirukumar - co-founder of Oru Space* Join this and other conversations with people in the LinkedIn Coworking Group* Unreasonable Connection Monthly online gatherings for Coworking Community Builders.* FLOC LinkedIn Coworking Recognition Campaign* European Coworking Day May 2026* London Coworking Assembly* European Coworking AssemblyBernie's Projects* London Coworking Assembly 5-Day AI Crash Course for Coworking Spaces* Connect with Bernie on LinkedInOne More ThingCoworking brings communities together, helping people find and share their voices.Each episode of the Coworking Values Podcast explores Accessibility, Community, Openness, Collaboration, and Sustainability—values that shape the spaces where we gather, work, and grow.If this resonates with you, rate, follow, and share

Episode Summary"If it weren't for Coco House, I would not be in Puerto Rico right now because this was what let me be able to continue my business, stay open, and be able to stay and not have to get on a plane and move."When Hurricane Maria hit Puerto Rico in 2017, Mariangie Rosas had just opened her coworking space across from a food truck park in downtown San Juan. She thought she was running a real estate business. Then the storm knocked out power across the island, and suddenly Coco House—with its backup generators and water cistern—became the only place with internet around.People flooded in, not just to work, but to feel what it was like to be part of something bigger than survival. Mari watched entrepreneurs who were ready to flee the island decide to stay because they'd found their people. That's when she realised coworking wasn't about desks—it was about creating the community infrastructure that keeps talent from leaving.Mari had moved back to Puerto Rico in 2015, swimming against the current as hundreds of thousands of people left the island for better opportunities on the mainland. As American citizens, Puerto Ricans need nothing more than a $300 plane ticket to start fresh anywhere on the East Coast. But Mari saw something different: if locals didn't build the entrepreneurial ecosystem the island needed, someone else would dictate its future.What emerged from her story isn't just about weather disasters or island economics—it's about how community becomes one answer to economic precarity everywhere. From virtual office permits that fast-track business registration to the hundreds of micro-businesses that can't all fail at once, Mari has built something that shows what local resilience looks like in practice.This conversation bridges personal story to systemic insight, revealing why coworking spaces could be civic infrastructure, not just private ventures. Whether you're in Berlin, Oslo, or Wigan, Mari's approach to building local entrepreneurial resilience will shift how you think about community, policy, and what economic development actually means.Timeline Highlights[01:23] "I'm known for building community here on the island, and that's exactly where I want to be known for, creating opportunities for everyone to be able to stay here"[02:25] Standing at a food truck park opening in December 2016, Mari realises: "A coworking space across the street from a food truck park area is going to be amazing"[05:35] The brain drain reality: "$300 for that plane ticket, and you can start working the next day in the US, because we're American citizens"[09:58] Bernie's realisation: "You can't have an entrepreneurial ecosystem without a hub for it"[12:11] Post-hurricane revelation: "If it weren't for Coco House, I would not be in Puerto Rico right now"[13:33] Mari's transformation: "This is the industry that I want. Forget about that food tech idea...coworking is now what I want to do for the rest of my life"[16:10] Community economics in action: "By having a community where you have all the different individuals that can help you either find clients or go through hurdles"[18:55] The retention formula: "They come for the amenities and infrastructure, but they stay because of the community"[20:38] Virtual office innovation: "The municipality of San Juan has created a way that if you're part of a coworking space, you can get your business permits a lot quicker"[21:25] The building ecosystem: "We've seen people start through all the stages to the point where they end up leaving the coworking space because they rent a bigger office in the building"[24:22] The resilience argument: "When you invest millions on having a 200-person company come to your town...you lost 200 jobs. That will never happen in coworking"[25:27] Recording from La Cabina, the soundproof podcast booth inside Coco HouseThe Infrastructure They Don't Teach in Economics ClassMost people think infrastructure means roads and bridges. Mari discovered it was backup generators and a community. When Hurricane Maria knocked out power across Puerto Rico, Coco House became more than a workspace—it became the nervous system keeping local businesses alive. The space had water, internet, and something equally critical: other people who weren't giving up.This isn't romantic thinking about community. It's brutal pragmatism. When your choice is between abandoning your business or having somewhere to keep it running, infrastructure becomes intensely personal. Mari watched entrepreneurs calculate in real time: stay and fight, or catch that $300 flight to mainland certainty.What happened next taught her that coworking spaces aren't competing with traditional offices—they're competing with Miami job offers and New York relocations. The real estate part, the desks and meeting rooms, that's just the delivery system. The actual product belongs to something worth staying for.Why Governments Keep Getting Economic Development WrongEvery municipality has some version of the same playbook: spend millions bringing in one significant employer, cut the ribbon, claim success. Mari and Bernie dissect why this approach creates fragility rather than resilience. When Amazon promises 10,000 jobs, what happens when Amazon leaves? You have empty buildings and unemployed people with specific skills.Coworking flips this equation. Instead of betting everything on one company, you're nurturing hundreds of small businesses across dozens of industries. Instead of recruiting from outside, you're keeping local talent from leaving. Instead of hoping corporate priorities align with community needs, you're building from community needs up.Mari's insight cuts through decades of economic development orthodoxy: "No matter if an entire industry can sometimes get wiped out, coworking space is about hundreds of different industries." That's not just diversification—that's resilience built from the ground up.The irony is that governments already know community infrastructure matters. They fund libraries, parks, and community centres. But somehow, when it comes to economic development, they default to corporate recruitment instead of community cultivation.The Permit Problem No One Talks AboutHere's where Mari's story gets practical. The municipality of San Juan has created a pathway that allows coworking members to obtain business permits more quickly by falling under the space's umbrella licence. Suddenly, virtual office membership isn't just an address—it's a regulatory shortcut that keeps new businesses from drowning in bureaucracy.This solves something every local government claims to care about: making it easier to start businesses. But instead of simplifying the system, most places add more programmes and consultants. Mari's approach recognises that entrepreneurs need community infrastructure to navigate complexity, not more complexity disguised as help.Virtual office members begin with basic addresses and business registration. Still, they're immediately plugged into a community that can help them with everything from vendor recommendations to late-night troubleshooting sessions. It's business incubation that happens naturally rather than through formal programmes with artificial timelines.What Brain Drain Actually Looks LikePuerto Rico's brain drain isn't just about economics—it's about infrastructure for a sense of belonging. When Mari talks about people leaving for mainland opportunities, she's describing something deeper than job availability. She's telling the story of the collapse of the systems that make staying feel possible.The brutal efficiency of the $300 flight to opportunity reveals something about rootedness that applies far beyond islands. People don't just leave for better jobs—they go when they can't imagine building the life they want where they are. The brain drain accelerates when local talent can't find a local community.Mari's generation made a choice that requires sustained courage: come back and build the infrastructure that makes staying possible for the next generation. Not through individual heroism, but through the patient work of community building that creates economic opportunity from the inside out.This connects to what's happening in post-industrial cities across the UK and Europe. The challenge isn't just creating jobs—it's creating the community infrastructure that makes local opportunity feel viable and valuable.Selling the Invisible Without Selling Your SoulEvery coworking operator struggles with this: how do you market community? Mari's answer is beautifully practical: lead with infrastructure, deliver community. People come for backup power and reliable internet. They stay because they've found their people.This solves the marketing problem without compromising the community. You're not overselling magical networking or corporate wellness nonsense. You're offering concrete value—an address, a permit pathway, a place to work when the lights go out. But you're designing everything to create the conditions where community happens naturally.Mari's retention strategy isn't a retention strategy—it's just what happens when people find where they belong. The business model becomes sustainable because the community value becomes undeniable. People don't cancel memberships to communities that changed their lives.The Economics of 200 Jobs That Can't All Fail at OnceMari's most powerful insight demolishes the traditional economic development playbook in one sentence: "When you invest millions on having a 200-person company come to your town...the moment that company can't work anymore, you lose 200 jobs. That will never happen in coworking."She's describing resilience through diversity. Instead of one company employing 200 people, you have 200 entrepreneurs employing themselves and each other. When one industry struggles, others adapt. When one business model fails, others innovate. When one entrepreneur relocates, others stay rooted.This isn't just theory—it's what Mar

"I just genuinely believe that there is [a pathway to entrepreneurship], and I believe it is the coworking industry. I believe we are perfectly positioned to support entrepreneurs in starting and growing businesses. It's just a lot of people don't know that we exist."This conversation began with a two-minute video that sparked the attention of the coworking community. Stacey Sheppard, who runs a coworking space for female entrepreneurs in rural Devon, posted a call to arms that cut straight through the noise: local councils are spending thousands on business boot camps whilst ignoring the coworking spaces already doing this work in their communities.But Stacey's story runs deeper than frustrated civic policy. She's a content creator whose 20-year writing career has been systematically eroded by AI since the launch of ChatGPT in November 2022. Instead of retreating, she's become the person her coworking community relies on to make sense of the disruption. She spends "ridiculous amounts of time" hunting down business support programmes, decoding AI courses, and connecting her members to resources they never knew existed.The timing couldn't be more urgent. Graduates are leaving university with accountancy degrees only to discover that accountants are "numbered" because AI handles data better than humans. The education system isn't working. Entry-level jobs are disappearing. The AI gender gap is widening—37% of women versus 50% of men are using AI tools that will reshape every industry.Meanwhile, councils run six-week boot camps that inundate aspiring entrepreneurs with enormous amounts of information, then leave them to implement everything on their own. * No accountability. * No ongoing support. * No community to catch them when they stumble.Stacey sees coworking spaces as the missing infrastructure. Not just hot desks and decent coffee, but the daily proximity that transforms careers. The casual conversation that reveals funding opportunities. The accountability that happens when someone asks, "How's that website coming along?" Knowledge sharing means you don't have to figure out AI, WordPress, or local business rates by yourself.Her coworking space, The Tribe, serves women in business in the Totnes area. Many are "really hard-working mums" running their own enterprises who can't take on learning AI alongside everything else. So Stacey does the courses, reads the reports, and filters what they need to know. One member told her: "I'm actually not that worried about it, Stacey, because I know that you're on the case."This is civic infrastructure disguised as workspace rental. When a factory opens, it promises 200 jobs. When it closes to secure a better deal elsewhere, 200 jobs are lost. Coworking spaces create sustainable local employment that adapts to changing work needs. They're economic anchors that keep revenue, talent, and innovation in the community.But there's no mechanism to connect university graduates to their local coworking ecosystem. No pathway from government-funded business support to the spaces where real entrepreneurship happens daily. Councils in London boroughs with the highest business registrations struggle to provide basic coworking infrastructure, while others, such as Barking, get ahead of the curve.The conversation extends beyond policy into the gendered reality of technological disruption. AI systems are built predominantly by men, trained on data that doesn't represent how women experience the world. Stacey watched women drop off AI courses that were heavy on tech jargon and light on accessibility. The expertise was shared in ways that excluded the very people who need these tools most.For coworking operators reading this, Stacey's challenge is clear: stop preaching to the converted. Find examples of councils working effectively with coworking spaces. Share success stories that other local authorities can replicate and learn from. Make noise about the economic infrastructure you're already providing.The disruption is here. The crisis Stacey predicted is unfolding across industries, communities, and careers. But the solution might be simpler than anyone imagined: recognise and resource the spaces where people already gather to figure out how to how to work together.Timeline Highlights[01:18] "We can talk more about this in the Unreasonable Connection event... This is exactly the conversation we want to get people having"[02:03] "I run a coworking space for women in business and female entrepreneurs in rural Devon... slowly moving into helping small businesses and solopreneurs use AI in their business"[04:45] "Back in 2022, it had slowly eroded everything I've built and created. But because of what I do in the coworking industry, I haven't felt alone in that"[06:58] "I spend ridiculous amounts of time finding out about all of the business support that is available... most of them really haven't got a clue that this is happening"[08:53] "The problem is they finish after six weeks or eight weeks or twelve weeks... Then you're left with enormous amounts of information... Then the course ends and you're out on your own again"[10:31] "It just feels so disjointed that the impact of that investment from government and local councils could be amplified so much more if we just all work together"[12:56] "One of my members said to me... I'm actually not that worried about it, Stacey, because I know that you're on the case and you're learning it for us"[15:44] "The AI gender gap is already quite massive. The last stat I read was something like 37% of women were using it compared to 50% of men"[17:06] "It would be so much more valuable, and it would really amplify the impact of any investment in business support if we just all work together"[21:10] "We've got this happening in industries all over the country where graduates are coming out and there just aren't the entry-level jobs to go to"[24:56] "Your local coworking space is there either 24/7 or Monday to Friday... Whenever you need that support, it's there in the same location, day after day after day"[29:47] "Unless we get on board with it, it's just going to leave us behind. It scares me"[31:42] "A lot of women were on the call at the beginning. I could watch them slowly drop off throughout the duration of the course"[35:27] "A lot of the workshops and courses lose people so quickly because it's new for so many people and it's mind-blowing"[39:26] "If we could come together as an industry and really make some noise and really try to move this forward a bit, because I think we just need this"The Corporate Takeover Nobody Talks AboutStacey's 20-year content creation career didn't just change—it was systematically dismantled. "Back in 2022, it had slowly eroded everything I'd built and created," she explains, describing how AI tools began replacing the writing and digital marketing work she'd spent decades developing. But rather than becoming another casualty of technological disruption, her positioning in coworking gave her something most freelancers don't have: a community to navigate the crisis with.This isn't just about one person's career pivot. Graduates with accountancy degrees from the University of Exeter are discovering that their "guaranteed" jobs have evaporated because "accountants are numbered"—AI handles data processing more efficiently than humans. The pattern repeats across industries: entry-level positions disappearing faster than companies can figure out how anyone becomes a manager without starting somewhere.The economic disruption is already here, but it's disguised as individual career challenges rather than the systemic shift it actually represents. Coworking operators see this daily—professionals arriving at their spaces after redundancies, career changes, or industries that no longer need their skills. The question isn't whether disruption is coming; it's whether communities will have the infrastructure to help people navigate it together.Why Everything Feels So Polarised Right NowThe AI gender gap reveals something deeper than the adoption rates of technology. When 37% of women use AI compared to 50% of men, we're witnessing real-time economic marginalisation. Stacey watched women "slowly drop off" AI courses throughout their duration, not because they lacked capability, but because the delivery was inaccessible to them. Tech jargon, assumptions about prior knowledge, and teaching methods that didn't meet women where they actually were."We have different barriers, different experiences, different perspectives," Stacey observes. "We just often learn differently." The systems being built to reshape work are primarily designed by men, trained on data that does not accurately represent how women experience the world. If 50% of the population doesn't engage with the tools reshaping their economic reality, the gap will compound across every sector.But the issue extends beyond gender to class, geography, and access. The people most likely to be displaced by AI—freelancers, creatives, and administrative professionals—are often least equipped to navigate the learning curve of using it effectively. Meanwhile, the people building these systems are insulated from the disruption they're creating.What Actually Works for Coworking SpacesStacey's approach reveals coworking's hidden superpower: distributed expertise. Rather than expecting each member to research AI independently, she became the person who "does all the courses, does all the learning" and filters relevant information to her community. One member's relief—"I'm actually not that worried about it, Stacey, because I know that you're on the case"—captures how coworking spaces function as knowledge networks.This extends beyond AI to business support generally. Stacey spends "ridiculous amounts of time" researching funding programmes, business courses, and support services, then disseminates relevant information to members who "really haven't got a clue that this is happening."

Episode Summary"There's a big bias towards design over engagement. Everyone has fancy glass walls, everyone has sit-stand desks, but the messy spaces are where the magic happens."David Walker attended the South by Southwest Coworking Conference in 2011, when there were only 50 coworking spaces worldwide. He still has the T-shirt. Today, he's observing an industry he helped develop evolve. Into something unrecognisable — and he's not keeping quiet about it.This isn't another episode about community-building platitudes. David co-founded Austin's first coworking space in 2008, inadvertently became a coworking consultant, and has spent 16 years observing the movement shift from gritty collaboration to glossy commoditization. When Bernie admits he feels more at home in spaces that look "a bit smacked up, like a hurricane has just passed through," David doesn't just agree — he explains exactly why those messy edges are where real collaboration lives.The conversation takes an unexpected turn when David reveals he's just launched a collaboration platform built with AI — not to monetise, but to experiment. It's live, it's free, and it's deliberately unpolished. "I've created the pool for people to come swimming," he says, channelling the same energy that built coworking before it became an industry.From learning to code by clicking "View Source" on websites to applying improv comedy's "yes and" technique to workspace design, this episode challenges everything we think we know about how collaboration actually works. Bernie's visceral reaction when David says people can "dive in" to his platform — "That terrified me... It's the thing like Noah Kagan or Seth Godin would have chucked up on the internet in 2008" — captures exactly what we've lost in our rush to professionalise.For anyone running an independent coworking space, wondering why their carefully designed collaboration zones sit empty, or community managers exhausted by forcing connection in sterile environments, this conversation offers both vindication and a way forward. Not through better design, but through embracing the beautiful mess of actual human collaboration.⏱ Timeline Highlights[02:15] David is still wearing his 2011 South by Southwest Coworking Conference T-shirt during recording[03:45] "Coworking was in its grittiest stage... just a bunch of doers and thinkers and disruptors"[08:20] Bernie admits "community, coworking, collaboration" on his website meant nothing[10:30] "Collaboration is multiplication" — David's favourite quote about working together[11:15] The "yes and" technique from improv comedy that changed David's approach[14:30] "There's a bias towards design over engagement" — the commoditisation problem[17:00] Bernie: "I always feel really at home where something looks a bit smacked up"[19:00] Learning to code by clicking "View Source" — collaboration in public origins[22:00] David launches an experimental collaboration platform built with AI[23:05] Bernie's terror: "It's the thing Noah Kagan or Seth Godin would have chucked up in 2008"[29:00] "If someone said 20,000 coworkers are in this, I'd be exhausted"[31:00] London meetup diversity story — from Indoor Gardeners to London Shy Meetup[33:00] "Collaboration itself becomes the content" — the radical shift[34:50] The ecosystem engine launch — E-squared experiment goes live🎯 Thematic BreakdownThe Corporate Takeover Nobody Talks AboutDavid doesn't mince words about what's happened to coworking. To compete now, you need fancy glass wall systems, sit-stand desks, and the latest technology. "You've got to compete with the multimillion-dollar player down the road," he says, and the resignation in his voice tells the real story. The messy ones, the rough-around-the-edges spaces that birthed this movement, can't monetise as well. They're being priced out of their own revolution.The irony cuts deep. These sterile, high-design environments that win the real estate game are the very spaces where collaboration struggles to breathe. David points to hacker spaces and early coworking spots — places with "stuff in them," quirky toys, unexpected pieces. Not Instagram-ready, but alive with possibility. When Bernie admits he deliberately seeks out "owner-managed coworking spaces" over the glass-walled alternatives, he's not being nostalgic. He's chasing something real that design consultants can't blueprint.This isn't just aesthetic preference. It's about what happens when commoditisation replaces co-creation, when the bias toward design overtakes engagement. The original ethos of coworking is "starting to see a different reflection in the mirror, and it doesn't know what to do."Why Improv Comedy Holds the Secret to CollaborationDavid's improv comedy class in Austin taught him something that changed everything: the "yes and" technique. On stage, when someone throws out an idea, you never say no. You build. You add. You keep the momentum alive. "No idea is a bad idea" when you're truly collaborating, he explains. The process becomes bigger than the participants.Bernie immediately connects this to his own experience of running events. The panels where speakers deliver pre-packaged wisdom? Dead energy. But when everyone's talking, building together, "collaborating in public" as David calls it — that's when people come alive. David even admits he fast-forwards YouTube videos to the Q&A sections because "that's when the real conversation starts."Think about that for your next community event. Are you creating stages for performance, or pools for swimming? The difference isn't subtle. One creates consumers of content. The other creates collaborators in discovery. David's right when he says it's like musicians in a jam session — the magic happens when they stop playing what they prepared and start riffing together.The View Source Revolution"I learned to code by clicking View Source," David says, and suddenly we're not talking about websites anymore. We're talking about a philosophy of transparency that built the internet — and could rebuild coworking. That simple browser feature, created so people could learn from each other, represents everything we've forgotten about collaboration in public.When David launched his collaboration platform last week, built with AI in true experimental fashion, Bernie's response was visceral: "That terrified me." Not because the platform might fail, but because it represents something we've lost. The willingness to show the messy middle, to build while people watch, to invite others into the process before it's perfect.The software industry got this right with open source. Seth Godin got it right when he turned blog posts into books, creating in public as he went. But somewhere along the way, coworking spaces started hiding their process behind NDAs and stealth mode, competing instead of co-creating. David's platform — free, experimental, deliberately unpolished — feels like a deliberate provocation. "I've created the pool for people to come swimming," he says. Will anyone be brave enough to get wet?The Meetup Era's Lost LessonsBernie's story about the 2008 London Meetup gathering with founder Scott deserves its own meditation. Indoor Gardeners meetup. London Shy Meetup (for people who are too shy to talk but need company). A soup kitchen run by doctors for people "not at risk enough to qualify for government support, but heading in that direction." This was London's actual diversity, not its marketing version.What made Meetup revolutionary wasn't the technology. It was permission. Permission to gather around any weird, specific, human need. Permission to show up without knowing why you're there. As David puts it, "the polished result isn't the goal. It's just the idea of showing up and seeing what happens."Compare that to today's coworking events. Professional. Polished. Purposeful. And often, empty of the very energy that makes collaboration possible. The London Shy Meetup members who went to the cinema together and might not speak? They found their people. They transcended what David calls "the stranger society" — that invisible barrier that stops us talking in coffee shops or on the tube.Small Pools Beat Big Oceans"If someone said to me, 20,000 coworkers are in this, I'd be exhausted," Bernie admits, and David doesn't argue. There's honesty here about scale that the coworking industry needs to hear. Bernie thrives in groups of 40, where he can "give my time to at least half of those people and build a relationship." David's just-launched platform has barely any users — and that's the point.The collaborative magic happens in small pools, not vast oceans. It's why those early coworking spaces worked — not despite being small, but because of it. When you can know everyone's name, when you can track the ripples of each interaction, when the community is small enough that every person matters — that's where multiplication happens.This challenges everything about growth metrics and scale economics. Maybe success isn't 1,500 people in a Slack channel where Bernie "just couldn't do it." Perhaps it's 40 people who actually converse with each other. Perhaps it's a beta platform with 10 users who are genuinely collaborating and experimenting together. Maybe small was always beautiful, and we just forgot.Collaboration as Content (Not Outcome)David drops something profound almost casually: "collaboration itself becomes the content." Not the polished result. Not the successful project. The messy, uncertain, experimental process of working together. This flips everything about how we design coworking programmes.Stop trying to engineer outcomes. Start creating conditions for process. David's platform doesn't promise to help you build a successful startup or find your co-founder. It promises a pool where you can swim with others. The swimming is the point. Bernie gets this viscerally — it's why his Unreasonable Connection events are so effective. Forty minutes in a room with three or four people,

"She was so busy that you couldn't even get time on her calendar to deal with important issues. She didn't have any spare time because of how many roles she had to fit."DeShawn Brown watched a community manager drowning in multiple jobs at one of Raleigh's first coworking spaces. Not because she was popular. Because the industry treats one person like an entire operations department. Now, as CEO of CoWorks and Director of Operations at Future Leaders of Coworking (FLOC), he's tackling the structural problems that make coworking managers leave the industry entirely.This isn't a conversation about software features or workspace trends. It's about why DeShawn wants coworking to become a university major, not just "entrepreneurship with a side of workspace." It's about generous leadership — the radical idea that the best people don't need managing; they need to be excited. And it's about the perception gap, where everyone thinks coworking is about tech bros playing ping-pong, while salon owners, scientists, and makers are quietly revolutionising how communities share resources.The kicker? Most coworking space owners don't even know about the mailbox business — recurring revenue they're leaving on the table. Meanwhile, managers are hitting career ceilings, thinking their only options are ownership or exodus. DeShawn's building the infrastructure to change that, from university programmes to peer networks to tools that turn overwhelmed managers into what he calls "superhumans."Timeline Highlights* 01:03 — The perception problem: UK freelancers think coworking is "just tech pros playing ping-pong"* 02:06 — DeShawn as CEO of CoWorks: "helping to foster that community, grow that community, really create some organisation in the chaos"* 03:44 — Generous leadership defined: "The best teammates... are the ones that you don't have to micromanage"* 07:00 — The burnout crisis: "You reach a ceiling... I have to just own the coworking space or leave the coworking industry"* 08:24 — The moonshot: "to help create a coworking major at the university level"* 11:52 — The modern manager archetype: "tour coordinator, dishwasher, bathroom stalker, sales admin, event coordinator, booking admin, billing admin"* 13:26 — The breaking point: Manager so overwhelmed "you couldn't even get time on her calendar"* 15:31 — Jamie Russo's role: "probably one of the best resources... to learn how to manage a space"* 18:20 — Regional differences: Southeast US has warehouses, West Coast has smaller spaces, New York is "work, work, work"* 21:00 — The WeWork blessing/curse: "At least if you say coworking now, they have a reference point"* 23:16 — Why his team left the office: "We want a change of scenery and we want to be around people"* 24:40 — Beyond ping-pong: "coworking spaces for salons, for wellness professionals, for scientists"* 28:36 — The mailbox revelation: "easy recurring money" most owners don't know about* 29:32 — LinkedIn petition status: Bernie last checked at "387" signatures, need 1,000The Multiple-Hat ProblemDeShawn lays out the brutal reality: one person juggling tour coordinator, dishwasher, bathroom stocker, sales admin, event coordinator, booking admin, and billing admin. All in a nine-to-five. With "limited staff and resources." The manager at Jason Widen's Raleigh space was so buried she couldn't even schedule time for critical issues — not because she was in demand, but because every minute was already claimed by operational chaos.This isn't poor management. It's a structural failure. The industry expects one person to be an entire department, then wonders why they burn out or leave.Your takeaway: If your manager is wearing more than five hats, you don't have a staffing problem — you have a business model problem. Either hire, automate, or accept that you're burning through talent.Generous Leadership vs Management Theatre"The best teammates... are the ones that you don't have to micromanage... the ones that you just get them excited to be where they are." DeShawn's philosophy: develop people, don't manage them. His best business wins come through genuine relationships — "this person genuinely likes me and vice versa."Compare this to the traditional model: micromanagement disguised as supervision, which forces rather than inspires. The difference? Generous leaders build networks that generate opportunities. Managers build spreadsheets that track attendance.Your takeaway: Stop managing enthusiasm out of people. If you're spending time forcing productivity, you've already lost. Focus on making people excited to contribute.The University Major Nobody's BuildingDeShawn's moonshot: making coworking a university major. Not entrepreneurship with workspace on the side. Actual coworking studies. Universities are already building "entrepreneurs' spaces which look eerily similar to coworking" but without the educational infrastructure to support them.Currently, people enter the industry without training, discover Jamie Russo's programmes if they're lucky, and then learn through expensive mistakes. Meanwhile, entrepreneurship went from being non-existent to offering full-degree programmes in a generation.Your takeaway: Professional development isn't optional when your managers are juggling eight different roles. The industry treating education as an afterthought is why managers struggle from day one.The Perception Gap That's Killing DiversityBernie recalls a UK freelancer group where mentioning coworking triggered identical responses: "white dudes with tech startups drinking craft beer and playing ping-pong." Meanwhile, DeShawn lists the reality: salon spaces, wellness professionals, scientists with shared labs, and makers. The perception is stuck in 2010, whilst the industry has exploded into every vertical.The WeWork paradox: it's both a blessing and a curse. People finally have a reference point, but "is that the reference point we want?"Your takeaway: If you're not actively showcasing diversity in your space, you're reinforcing stereotypes that exclude potential members. Every ping-pong photo you post confirms their biases.The Mailbox Money Everyone's Missing"If you do it right, it's just easy recurring money." DeShawn's amazement at how many owners don't understand the mailbox business mirrors Bernie's experience. Virtual addresses aren't just convenient — they're a necessity. "You can't put your home address as your business address. You can. You should not."DeShawn notes that there are "some operations, some overhead, some maintenance," but compared to complex membership programmes, it's relatively straightforward revenue that spaces leave untapped.Your takeaway: Before you launch another complicated membership tier, master the basics. A mailbox service, done right, generates predictable revenue with manageable overhead. Why aren't you offering it?Why LinkedIn Recognition MattersFLOC's petition for LinkedIn to recognise coworking as an official industry sits under 400 signatures. They need 1,000. "It seems so simple and so trivial, but it's a huge deal." Currently, professionals often choose between "consulting," "real estate," or "hospitality" — none of which accurately captures what they actually do.This isn't vanity. It's about legitimising careers, enabling accurate job searches, and acknowledging that coworking is distinct from its parts.Your takeaway: Sign the petition. It takes thirty seconds and helps establish coworking as a professional path, not a temporary stop.Links & Resources* CoWorks Platform* Future Leaders of Coworking (FLOC)* Everything Coworking Podcast - Jamie Russo* Community Manager University - Jamie Russo* LinkedIn Coworking Recognition Campaign* LinkedIn Coworking Group* Workspace Design Show - Business Design Centre, February 2026* RSVP for Unreasonable Connection* Coworking Values Podcast on LinkedIn* Connect with Bernie on LinkedIn* Connect with DeShawn on LinkedInOne More ThingDeShawn didn't start CoWorks to build another platform. He started it because he watched a brilliant community manager at one of Raleigh's first coworking spaces become so buried in operational tasks that members couldn't even book time with her. Not for mentorship or connection — for basic problem-solving. She wasn't building community. She was drowning in dishwashing rotas and bathroom supplies.The multiple-hat problem isn't a management issue. It's an industry that refuses to professionalise, expects miracles from individuals, then wonders why people burn out and leave. DeShawn's pushing for university programmes, peer networks, and tools that turn chaos into systems. Not because it's innovative. Because it's necessary.This is the Coworking Values Podcast. Every Tuesday and Thursday, we share conversations from the front lines of workspace and community building. Not the polished version. Not the conference keynote. The version where people admit their managers are drowning, and their owners don't know about mailbox revenue. If you're ready for honest conversations about building sustainable coworking businesses, you're in the right place. We don't do hype. We do humans solving real problems. See you Thursday. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit coworkingvaluespodcast.substack.com

"We know what's going to happen with startups before anyone else because a company will say that they're downsizing or whatever before they'll fire everyone."Jules Robertson didn't plan to become a workspace oracle. She and co-founder Laura started Tally in mid-2020 with a Squarespace site, watching their own employers bleed money on empty offices. Four years later, they're seeing London's workspace market split into extremes — high-end spaces with on-site gyms at the top, freelancers struggling with £35 day passes at the bottom, and a squeezed middle that nobody wants.This isn't another "future of work" conversation. It's about what happens when female founders get asked if they're "planning to have a baby" during fundraising pitches. It's about why workspace has become a tax-efficient benefit play, and why the operators who are surviving are the ones who picked a lane and stayed in it. Jules shares insights about talent raids creating "zombie companies," why community-focused spaces need to rethink their entire cost model, and how user-led awards like The Tallys give smaller spaces the recognition that PR budgets usually buy.The message is clear: if you're trying to be everything to everyone in the workplace, you're already in trouble. The thriving operators know exactly who they are — whether that's Sandbox taking on end-of-life buildings or premium operators charging for "everything that you've ever wanted."Timeline Highlights* 02:14 — "I'm known for being one of the co-founders of Tally Workspace... and also just a nice helpful person."* 02:55 — Mid-2020: Two startup employees build a Squarespace site whilst their companies bleed cash on empty offices.* 03:20 — The Innovate UK grant that turned an experiment into a business, allowing both founders to quit their jobs and go full-time.* 04:42 — "We know what's going to happen with startups before anyone else" — companies adjust workspace before public announcements.* 05:48 — The current market reality: "A real like flight to quality... companies wanting really nice offices in very central locations."* 07:08 — Inside Sandbox's model: Taking on end-of-life buildings to offer reduced pricing.* 09:12 — The price shift for freelancers: Individual day passes jumping from £15 to a minimum of £35.* 09:12 — The 2-3% reality: "The Coworking part of their PnL is always 2, 3%."* 11:18 — The "everything" play: "They want it to be their gym, their cafe... people are expecting more."* 13:04 — The cost of premium amenities: Third Space in Notting Hill is cited at "£350 per person per month."* 13:54 — The tax advantage: On-site gyms avoid the benefit-in-kind tax that external memberships trigger.* 14:34 — The questions from investors: "Are you planning to have a baby? How are you planning to do this?"* 15:37 — The support paradox: "Just give me your money or become a customer."* 18:50 — The rise of "zombie companies" left behind after talent raids.* 20:55 — Jules's take on specialisation: "I'd be tempted to either do 100% coworking or 100% offices."* 24:52 — Why The Tallys matter: Celebrating community-loved spaces like Mission Works and Lime Tree Workshops.The 2-3% Reality CheckJules reveals a number that explains the coworking pricing puzzle: for many operators, coworking represents just "2, 3%" of their P&L. This is why they can push day pass prices from £15 to £35 without blinking—it's a rounding error for them, but a crippling cost for freelancers. At £35 a day, a freelancer's monthly workspace bill hits £700.Your takeaway: If coworking is less than 15% of your revenue, you're in the office business. Acknowledge it. Price your coworking offer sustainably for the user, or get out of that market. Stop pretending to serve a community you're actively pricing out.Why Female Founders Get Everything Except Funding"Free coaching, free mentoring, this programme, that programme." Jules experienced the theatre of support that offers female founders everything except what actually builds a business: money and customers. The frustration peaked when mentors offered advice while buying from Tally's competitors. Her simple test cuts through the noise: "Will you become a customer?"Your takeaway: Apply Jules's test to every offer of help. Does this directly lead to revenue or new customers? If not, it's a distraction. Your time is your most valuable asset; don't trade it for performative allyship.The £350 Gym and the Tax ManA gym membership at Third Space in Notting Hill costs £350 a month. If a company offers this as an external benefit, it's taxed. But if they provide a high-quality gym inside their workspace, it becomes a tax-efficient amenity. This isn't just about wellness; it's a financial strategy that makes premium office space more valuable.Your takeaway: Stop thinking about amenities as perks. Start analysing them as tax-efficient business solutions. Every facility should solve a concrete problem for your members' companies, not just tick a marketing box.The Specialisation Strategy"I'd be tempted to either do 100% coworking or 100% offices." Jules observes that the operators who struggle most are the ones caught in the middle, trying to serve everyone. Even successful community-led spaces like Patch work because they are "way more than a workspace"—they are fully committed to their niche, not hedging their bets.Your takeaway: Pick a lane. Are you serving freelancers with a vibrant community and flexible access? Or are you providing private offices for scaling teams? Trying to do both without a clear strategy means you'll fail at both.Reading the Workspace Tea LeavesTally sees business futures before they become press releases. Companies reduce their workspace footprint before announcing layoffs. They sign for a new office before their funding round is made public. Jules notes how quickly the startup environment changed in the four months she was on maternity leave, proving that workspace decisions are a leading indicator of market health.Your takeaway: Your customer's workspace usage is a valuable source of business intelligence. Track it. A sudden contraction is a warning sign. An expansion is an opportunity. Stop waiting for the news and start reading the room.Links & Resources* Tally Workspace* The Tallys Awards - Vote Now* Sandbox Workspace* Patch Coworking* Unreasonable Connection Events* Sam Shea's LinkedIn Campaign - Get "Coworking" as a LinkedIn industry option* Connect with Bernie on LinkedIn* Connect with Jules on LinkedInOne More ThingJules didn't set out to spot market trends. But when you watch companies telegraph their futures through desk bookings, when you see female founders offered everything except customers, when you witness London splitting into the premium and the priced-out, you either share what you're seeing or you become part of the noise.The day pass jumped from £15 to £35 while operators treat coworking as 2% of their business. Female founders are still asked about their family plans in funding pitches. The middle market is struggling while everyone pretends it's just "evolving."This is the Coworking Values Podcast. Every Wednesday, we share one conversation from the front lines of workspace and community building. Not the press release version. Not the conference keynote. The version where people say what's actually happening. If you're ready for the unvarnished truth about where workspace is heading, you're in the right place. We don't do hype. We do humans figuring it out in real-time. See you next week.Community is the key 🔑 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit coworkingvaluespodcast.substack.com

"We were being disconnected and distributed instead of coming together."That's Ashley Proctor describing the moment in 2004 when Ontario College of Art and Design students were losing their collaborative spaces to renovations. Their solution? Pool their money, rent their own space, run it themselves. No business plan. No investor deck. Just students who needed somewhere to work together. That space still runs today — still student-funded, still student-run, twenty years later.This isn't a story about hot desks. It's about what happens when communities stop asking permission and start building what they need. Ashley's been at this for two decades, watching the movement evolve from art students splitting rent to Community Land Trusts raising millions to lock down entire neighbourhoods for affordable housing "for generations to come." The same DNA, just bigger stakes.The problem now? People's first taste of coworking is often corporate, cookie-cutter spaces that turn them off the entire concept. They never discover the indie operators doing "really special and fitting and tailored" work for their actual neighbours. Meanwhile, Ashley's asking the questions that matter: How do you measure dismantled loneliness? What's the mental health impact across 20 years’ worth? Why are we still pretending every member needs to scale and exit?She's not interested in your occupancy rates. She wants to know if your membership model serves members or profit. Whether cities are sponsoring desks for newcomers. If your space could be layered into Community Land Trust models to preserve affordable workspace forever. Because "every major problem we're about to face needs to be solved collectively" — and that starts with remembering why we built these spaces in the first place.Timeline Highlights02:02 - Ashley's mission crystallised: "I would like to be known for building communities of care"03:43 - The origin story: Ontario College of Art and Design students losing collaborative space to renovations04:02 - The real audience: "emerging artists... people who don't necessarily fit into a typical 9:00 to 5:00 role"05:30 - The forgotten truth: "No profit, no end goal. It was just, I can't do this on my own"07:17 - The cookie-cutter fear: People "get turned off or turned away" before discovering indie operators09:08 - Collaboration defined: "If you need something, you're encouraged to ask for support"11:18 - The collective imperative: "Every major problem we're about to face needs to be solved collectively"14:06 - Community Land Trusts in action: "Watching folks come together and raise money, lock down a property for affordable housing for generations to come"18:59 - The measurement crisis: "How do you measure the impact we've had on the mental health of our members over 20 years?"21:42 - Value redefined: "Are there other models where we don't need to exchange that membership fee?"24:56 - Cities sponsoring desks for "newcomers or new nonprofits or folks with disabilities"27:17 - The gut check: "Are our membership models designed to serve the members first and foremost, or are they designed to create profit?"31:04 - Coworking Canada Conference: September 29-30 in Toronto, 29 October onlineThe Art School Revolution Nobody Talks About AnymoreTwenty years ago, art students at OCAD weren't protesting or petitioning — they were pooling rent money. Ashley watched as they lost their collaborative spaces to renovations and refused to accept isolation. The space they created still operates today, is still student-funded, and is still student-run. No venture capital. No accelerator programme. Just people who needed to work together badly enough to figure it out on their own.Your takeaway: Stop waiting for permission or investment. The best spaces emerge from actual need, not market opportunity. If students can sustain a space for 20 years, what's your excuse?When Cookie-Cutter Coworking Kills the MovementAshley's fear keeps her up at night: people encounter WeWork first and mistakenly think that's what coworking is. They never find the indie operators doing "really special and fitting and tailored" work for actual neighbours. The mainstream experience becomes a barrier to understanding what coworking could be.Your takeaway: Your marketing needs to scream why you're different. Not better coffee — different values. Make it clear you're not another corporate workspace with exposed brick.The Unmeasurable Impact We Refuse to Price"I didn't start a coworking space because I wanted every single member to scale or sell their business." Ashley drops this bomb mid-conversation, obliterating every investor pitch deck in a 10-mile radius. She wants to measure dismantled loneliness. The value of emotional labour. Twenty years of mental health support that never shows up on a P&L.Your takeaway: Start documenting what actually matters. The member who didn't quit. The friendship that saved someone's business. The loneliness that lifted. That's your real ROI.From Desks to Land: The Next RevolutionAshley's bridging coworking and Community Land Trusts — movements that share DNA but operate at different scales. She's watching communities raise money to lock down properties forever, ensuring affordable housing for generations. The parallel to coworking is obvious: both movements need to own their own infrastructure or risk it disappearing.Your takeaway: Stop thinking about lease renewal. Start thinking about land ownership. Partner with Community Land Trusts. Your neighbourhood needs permanent, affordable workspace, not another 5-year lease.Cities Finally Paying for What They Should Have BuiltEconomic development offices are sponsoring desks. Cities are funding memberships for newcomers, nonprofits, and people with disabilities. Not charity — infrastructure. Ashley sees this as cities finally understanding their mandate: supporting residents' health and economic well-being through community spaces.Your takeaway: Draft that proposal to your economic development office today. Frame coworking as essential infrastructure, not a nice-to-have amenity. Include specific desk sponsorship numbers.The Values Reckoning Coming for Everyone"Things will not be the way they are today in a year or two or five." Ashley's not talking about hot desk prices. She's discussing how AI could eliminate jobs, lead to political upheaval, and necessitate economic restructuring. The spaces that survive won't be the ones with the best margins — they'll be the ones that remembered why they started.Your takeaway: Do the gut check now. Look at your membership model. Does it serve members or profit? If you can't answer instantly, you already know the answer.The Scholarship Desk Nobody Wants to Talk AboutEven one sponsored desk per space would transform access globally. Ashley's pushing spaces to move beyond their "very small programmes" to systematic inclusion. Deskpass lets companies pay for all employees. Cities can sponsor systematically. The models exist — we have to use them.Your takeaway: Implement one scholarship desk this month. Find one sponsor — a company, the city, a foundation. Make it systematic, not charity. Build it into your model.Links & Resources* Ashley's "20 Years in Coworking" LinkedIn post* Canada Conference: September 29-30, 2025 (Toronto)* Creative Blueprint: creativeblueprint.ca* Kensington Market Community Land Trust Project* Sam Shay's LinkedIn Coworking Recognition Campaign* LinkedIn Coworking Group* Workspace Design Show - Business Design Centre, February 2026* RSVP for Unreasonable Connection* Coworking Values Podcast on LinkedIn* Connect with Bernie on LinkedIn* Connect with Ashley on LinkedInOne More ThingAshley Proctor spent 20 years proving that coworking was never about workspaces — it was about refusing to work alone when the system wanted you to be isolated. Art students who couldn't afford studios. Gig workers without offices. Nonprofits are priced out of everything. They didn't wait for the market to serve them. They built what they needed.Now she's asking us to remember why we started. Not to feel nostalgic, but to prepare for what's coming. AI will eliminate jobs. Politics will shift. Economics will restructure. The spaces that survive won't be the ones with the best SEO or the nicest furniture. They'll be the ones who remember they exist to serve members, not extract from them.This is the Coworking Values Podcast. If you believe workspace should be a human right, not a luxury good, if you think communities should own their infrastructure, not rent it from private equity, if you're ready to measure loneliness dismantled, not desks occupied — you're in the right place. We publish two episodes weekly. Find us in the LinkedIn Coworking Group where the honest conversations happen, away from the algorithm. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit coworkingvaluespodcast.substack.com

Building Coworking for the People Actually Living in Hackney with Kofi OppongWhen 15-year-old twins refuse to leave the AI lab and Caribbean grandmothers learn to code their way past red tape."Those are the ones that are struggling to connect. So we went from basics in terms of online browsing to how to use AI. And I helped a lady solve problems with the council by showing her how to write letters in seconds."That's Kofi Oppong, founder of Urban MBA, describing the moment when technology education stopped being abstract and became a tool for immediate community power. In a converted space near Old Street, something remarkable is happening: Caribbean elders eating jerk chicken whilst surrounded by VR headsets, 15-year-old twins who won't stop building AI-generated games, and a radical repricing of coworking that slashes hot desk rates to £15 to serve the neighbourhood.This isn't your typical tech hub story. Urban MBA has discovered what most coworking spaces overlook: the people furthest from technology are often the ones who suffer the most when society goes digital. So they're doing something about it. Through partnerships with organisations like Caribbean Eats, they're teaching over-50s to use Claude AI not for Silicon Valley disruption, but to navigate council bureaucracy, write complaint letters, and maintain their dignity in an increasingly digital welfare state.The economics are deliberate. As Kofi explains, "the traditional coworking person is, and it's no disrespect to any for me, it's white middle class with money." So Urban MBA slashed their prices and opened their EdTech centre to the actual community. The result? A waiting list for AI courses that fills instantly, grandparents telling their grandchildren about quantum computing over Sunday dinner, and young people from Hackney learning to "code vibe" — using AI to build games without writing a single line of traditional code.This is coworking as civic infrastructure, not lifestyle brand. Where most spaces chase remote workers with good coffee and fast WiFi, Urban MBA is teaching marginalised communities to navigate the 400 million jobs that AI is predicted to eliminate globally. They're not just talking about inclusion; they're pricing for it, designing for it, and measuring success by how many local people actually use the space.Timeline Highlights00:03 - Bernie opens with the image that matters: "These people are all 50 plus and they get to eat together and they get to learn how to use AI while surrounded by VR headsets and 3D printers"01:13 - The political reality check: "The people furthest from the tech that get hit the hardest"04:12 - Kofi drops the AGI bomb: "Artificial General Intelligence, which is when AI can run a whole company by itself"06:57 - Two 15-year-old twins discover code vibing: "I couldn't get them off the AI. Once they realised what it could do, they started copying the code"09:21 - Partnership with Ali Kakande begins: "Cara Eats has a space where they do Caribbean meals every Friday at 12:00 lunchtime, and they play Bingo"10:46 - The council letter breakthrough: "I helped a lady solve problems with the council by showing her how to write letters in seconds"11:45 - The surreal scene: Over-60s eating Caribbean food surrounded by Meta VR machines and quantum computer models14:04 - The anime community after-party that changed everything: "Creatives in the UK absolutely despise AI... But when we did the 3D printing, Sip and paint, Antonio taught and showed them how to use AI"16:44 - The pricing revolution: "We've slashed all the prices that you can get a hot desk for £15, anybody in the local community"20:35 - Word-of-mouth truth: "You can put out as much social media as you want, but that doesn't necessarily connect people who are local to the community"22:48 - The authenticity test: "When people come here, they're very surprised at what we've got... But it's still authentic"26:34 - Government shifts toward entrepreneurship: "Keir Starmer has said they're going to stop a lot of the big organisations giving 60, 90 day, 120 day payment terms"The AI Education Revolution Nobody Asked For (But Everyone Needs)Urban MBA's summer camps aren't teaching kids to code — they're teaching them to make AI code for them. Two 15-year-old twins spent an entire afternoon refusing to leave the computer lab, not playing games but building them using Claude AI. They've signed up for another week because they can't stop creating.Reader takeaway: Stop teaching people tools. Teach them to solve immediate problems. The over-50s don't need to understand large language models; they need to write letters to the council. Start there.When Caribbean Grandmothers Meet Quantum ComputingEvery Friday at noon, Ali Kakande's Caribbean Eats group gathers for food, bingo, and now — AI literacy. They're learning to navigate digital bureaucracy whilst sitting next to £30,000 VR headsets and 3D-printed quantum computer models. The laughter Bernie describes from his February visit? That's what community education actually sounds like.Reader takeaway: Your most powerful educational moments happen when people feel safe enough to laugh. If your coworking space feels like a library, you're doing it wrong.The £15 Hot Desk Revolution"The traditional coworking person is white middle class with money, and they go to all the coworking spaces around Old Street." So Urban MBA did the unthinkable: they slashed prices to £15 for hot desks. Not as a promotion. As a philosophy.Reader takeaway: Your pricing is your politics. If your community can't afford your day rate, you're not serving your community.The Anime Community That Learned to Stop Worrying and Love AIUK creatives "absolutely despise AI" — until Antonio showed the anime community how to use it to 3D print their character designs. The same people ready to "cancel" anyone talking about AI suddenly couldn't stop using it.Reader takeaway: Resistance to technology often masks fear of irrelevance. Show people how tech serves their existing passions, not how it replaces them.Word-of-Mouth Beats SEO Every TimeKofi's community growth strategy ignores the algorithm: "You can put out as much social media as you want, but that doesn't necessarily connect people who are local to the community. They want to see that you're doing stuff in the community for them."Reader takeaway: Stop optimising for Google. Start optimising for the grandmother who tells her entire church about your space.AGI Is Coming — But Council Letters Come FirstWhile Silicon Valley debates artificial general intelligence, Urban MBA is teaching people to use AI for the bureaucratic battles that actually determine their quality of life. The revolution isn't in the technology; it's in who gets to use it.Reader takeaway: The future of work isn't about preparing for AGI. It's about ensuring the people who'll be hit hardest by automation have tools to fight back today.Links & Resources* Urban MBA Website* LinkedIn coworking group for podcast discussions* The Workspace Design Show (February at Business Design Centre)* London Coworking Assembly 5-Day AI Crash Course for Coworking Spaces* The Power of Food in Community Building with Ali Kakande* Education in the Fourth Industrial Revolution Urban MBA White Paper* Urban MBA LinkedIn * Urban MBA Instagram * Coworking Values Podcast on LinkedIn* Connect with Bernie on LinkedIn* Connect with Kofi on LinkedInOne More ThingWhen Bernie visited in February and heard the laughter from Ali's Caribbean Eats group — over-60s, eating together, learning AI surrounded by quantum computers — he says he "hadn't laughed so hard all year." That's the metric that matters. Not user acquisition or space utilisation. Laughter. Because when marginalised communities feel safe enough to laugh whilst learning the tools that might save them from digital exclusion, that's when coworking becomes resistance.This is the Coworking Values Podcast. If building a community that actually looks like your neighbourhood matters to you, if you believe coworking should be civic infrastructure, not lifestyle performance, if you're ready to price for inclusion, not exclusivity — you're in the right place. We publish episodes every week. Find us in the LinkedIn coworking group where the honest conversations happen, away from the algorithmic noise.Community is the key 🔑 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit coworkingvaluespodcast.substack.com

Episode Summary"I know for a fact I've got two more at home."The woman standing outside Gavin's ski shop holds five pairs of ski pants. It's Brexit day—the one that never happened—and instead of drowning in political despair, Gavin's running a "Fix It, F**k Brexit" event. People are donating their excess gear, getting things repaired, and planting trees. Nine grand raised in a day. But it's the five pairs of ski pants that stop him in his tracks.This is Courchevel, a playground for millionaires, where you can eat lobster at the top of a mountain if you're that way inclined. Where shops like Prada line the high street. Where Gavin Fernie-Jones spent years running two ski shops, unwrapping products from their plastic cocoons only to bin the packaging immediately. The rep who fights water pollution on weekends tells him straight: "The brands know skiing will die from climate change. They're making money while they can."Then his dad cycles into the back of a parked vehicle. Ten days in a coma. The family makes the decision. The life support machine goes quiet."As a white man born in the UK in the '80s, you have a ton of privilege and a ton of certainty," Gavin says. "In that moment, none of this was certain anymore."What follows isn't a redemption arc—it's messier than that. It's Gavin walking away from the consumer story he'd been absorbed into. Creating One Tree at a Time, a community space built from waste. Launching the Re-Action Collective—70 tiny organisations out-innovating the entire multi-billion pound outdoor industry. Not through venture capital or strategic plans, but through repair workshops, shared knowledge, and the radical act of not charging membership fees.The moment they stopped asking "What am I getting?" and started asking "What can I give?"—that's when the magic happened.Now there's a film called Actionism travelling the world through community screenings. An 18-year-old named Ellie is finding her way from climate anxiety to collective action. A magazine. A movement. All built on one principle: it's easier to act your way into a new story than to think your way there.This isn't about scaling. It's about finding the others.Timeline Highlights* [00:04] Bernie's setup: "What a lot of people say about Citizens is it gave them the language they were looking for"* [04:33] "I grew up at an outdoor activity centre called Lockerbrook"—nearest neighbour a mile away, village 13 miles out* [06:53] The French Alps revelation: "Wow, you can live and work here"—20 years later, still there* [09:28] Glacial melt and forest fires—watching climate change in real-time from the ski shop window* [11:17] The wolf walking through the village, caught on WhatsApp* [14:04] Spring-fed water with E. coli levels "through the roof"—but they'd been drinking it for years* [23:37] The brand rep's confession: "We know skiing is going to fail. We're making money until then"* [25:20] Dad's cycling accident—10 days in a coma, the moment certainty vanished* [27:54] "Fix It, F**k Brexit"—the event that raised nine grand and revealed five pairs of ski pants* [31:04] One Tree at a Time opens—"What should we create?" asked the community, not decided for them* [34:38] The fee paradox: dropping membership costs, everyone shifts from "What am I getting?" to "What can I give?"* [44:26] Actionism gets its name—"The art of finding the others and taking collective action"* [49:48] 100+ screening requests worldwide—Green Party New Zealand wants it in schoolsThe Consumer Story That Nearly Swallowed Him"Everything would come into the shop wrapped in plastic, single-use cardboard, and we would take it off and bin it immediately."Gavin didn't set out to run ski shops in Courchevel. With an art degree in his pocket and qualified as a climbing instructor since the age of 18, he came to the mountains. But ski resorts have a way of absorbing you into their logic. Prada on the high street. Advertising plastered across ski lifts. Lobster at altitude.The brands were honest, at least. When Gavin started asking about sustainability, one rep—a fly fisherman who spent weekends suing councils over water pollution—laid it out: the companies know skiing's days are numbered. Climate change will kill the industry. The plan? Extract maximum profit before the inevitable.Meanwhile, Gavin's watching glacial melt reveal how much ice has already gone. Forest fires. Rain when it should be snow. The very landscape that brought him here is transforming beneath his boots.When Certainty Dies, Possibility Emerges"I just went, well, none of this is certain."The phone call comes. Dad's in a coma after cycling into a parked vehicle. Ten days of waiting. Then the decision no family wants to make.For someone raised with the privilege of certainty—the UK in the '80s, white, male, the prescribed path from grades to job to house—this moment shatters everything. Not dramatically. Quietly. A fault line through assumed futures."Once that self-awareness starts to happen," Gavin reflects, "there's a long, old journey that you go on that has many highs and lows."The Day Brexit Didn't Happen (And Nine Grand Got Raised)"Our community cares. They're looking for a way to try and do something."Instead of drowning in political despair on the Brexit day that never was, Gavin organises "Fix It, F**k Brexit" outside the ski shop. Donate your old gear. Get things repaired. Plant trees.The woman with five pairs of ski pants becomes the moment of revelation. People have too much stuff. They want to do something meaningful. The £ 9,000 raised proves both points.This becomes One Tree at a Time—a community space on the high street where the community decides what happens. Built from waste. Funded by Gavin initially, shaped by everyone.The Re-Action Collective: 70 Davids, One Goliath"We've completely out-innovated the entire multi-billion dollar industry from 70 small, tiny organisations."When someone asks how to scale One Tree at a Time, Gavin resists. This isn't about replication—it's about emergence. Enter Heather, and the birth of the Re-Action Collective.Seventy organisations reimagining the outdoor industry through repair, reuse, and regeneration. No membership fees. When big brands come knocking—"Can we join?"—the answer is clear: "That's not what we're trying to do here."The moment they drop fees, everything shifts. "What am I getting?" becomes "What can I give?" Guides appear on running alternative high streets. Workshops proliferate. Knowledge flows freely.Ellie's Story: From Climate Anxiety to Collective Action"An 18-year-old with such self-awareness and such energy and creativity."Ellie Meredith is 19 now. When she left school at 18, the adults around her weren't talking about what mattered—climate change, social anxiety, the future she'd inherit. So she went looking for the others.The film Actionism tells her journey through the Re-Action Collective. From paralysing anxiety to purposeful action. Now she's undertaking an apprenticeship at Manchester University, employed by Re-Action, and is embedded in collective work.Michael, the filmmaker, throws out "Actionism" as a working title. It sticks. "The art of finding the others and taking collective action."Why Community Screenings Beat Netflix"Rather than put it online where someone could watch it passively, we wanted to bring communities together."Over 100 screening requests worldwide. New Zealand's Green Party wants it in schools. Each screening includes discussion, sometimes repair workshops, and always connection.People watch together, then ask: "This is great, but I'm not in the outdoor industry. What can I do?" That's where the Actionism storytelling platform comes in—sharing projects from food to education to playful streets in Leeds.Acting Your Way Into a New Story"It's easier to act your way into a new story than to intellectualise it."The word "story" instead of "system" changes everything. "When you say you need to change the system, I feel quite powerless," Gavin explains. "If I want to change my story, I can."Repair workshops during film screenings. Sewing while discussing. Hands busy, minds open. The conversation flows differently when you're fixing something together versus sitting in rows, passive.Links & ResourcesGavin's Work* One Tree at a Time - Community space in the French Alps* Re-Action Collective - 70 organisations reimagining the outdoor industry* Actionism Platform - Storytelling space for collective action* Actionism Film - Request a community screening* Actionism Summer Connect – August Online MeetupThe Systems That Shape This* Citizens by Jon Alexander - The book that gave us the language* Civic Square - Neighbourhood Public Square: The Land Story So FarWhere the Movement Gathers* London Coworking Assembly* European Coworking Assembly* Sam Shay's LinkedIn Coworking Recognition Campaign* LinkedIn Coworking Group* Workspace Design Show - Business Design Centre, February 2026* RSVP for Unreasonable Connection* Host a screening of ACTionism: The Art of Finding Your People to Take Collective Action in your coworking space.One More ThingThe wolf padding through Gavin's village last Wednesday was caught on someone's phone. The deer in his field. The wild boar. They're all part of the same story—nature pushing back into spaces we thought we'd claimed.But in Courchevel, up the mountain, it's different. Prada and adverts and lobster at altitude. Two worlds, one mountain apart. Gavin chose his side.Coworking brings communities together, helping people find and share their voices.Each episode of the Coworking Values Podcast explores Accessibility, Community, Openness, Collaboration, and Sustainability—values that shape the spaces where we gather, work, and grow.If this resonates with you, rate, follow, and share the podcast. Your support helps others discover how coworking enriches lives, builds careers, and strengthens communities.Community is the key 🔑 This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other s

"We don't pay rent, but we pay them in social value... To date, I think we've provided £2.5 million to Islington Council in social value."Space4 doesn't pay rent.Instead, they deliver something harder to measure but infinitely more valuable: £2.5 million in social value to Islington Council through the creation of jobs, the launch of businesses, and the sparking of connections over Wednesday lunches.This isn't corporate social responsibility theatre. It's what happens when a worker-owned cooperative decides that neighbourhood economic development matters more than profit margins.Natasha Natarajan didn't plan to help run this experiment. She came to research cooperatives for her master's degree, using Space4 and Outlandish as her case study. Three years later, she's co-director of both the tech agency and the physical space—one half of a female leadership team that has "complete independence and control over what we do here."As she notes with characteristic understatement: "It definitely feels special that we're two women of colour even doing that in Space4."Along with colleague Maddy, Natasha navigates the daily challenge of tracking the untrackable. How do you assign monetary value to the job someone gets three months after a kitchen conversation? How do you measure the impact of 15 people eating lunch together every Wednesday? How do you prove that a second-floor space invisible from the street has become the beating heart of Finsbury Park's tech-for-good ecosystem?Born as "a centre point, a hub for the tech worker co-op movement," Space4 now serves as home to Founders and Coders' free coding bootcamp, 26 tech cooperatives, and what Natasha calls their "virtual membership"—people who may never rent a desk but see Space4 as their intellectual and social home.This conversation explores how cooperative values are translated into daily practice, how Space4 overcomes the challenge of being invisible from the street through intentional neighbourhood engagement, and what eight years of consistent impact reveal about building economic democracy at the neighbourhood scale.⏱ Timeline Highlights[01:17] "I am known for being the Events and Partnerships Coordinator at Space4, but I'd rather be known for my DIY projects at home"[02:30] The research that became reality: "I was doing research for my master's about cooperatives... I ended up using Space4 and Outlandish as my case study"[03:51] Complete autonomy: "We have complete independence and control over what we do here"[04:15] The significance of female leadership: "It definitely feels special that we're two women of colour even doing that in Space4"[05:35] The Founders and Coders partnership origin: "We got that deal by having Founders & Coders as one of our anchor tenants"[06:04] £2.5 million delivered: "To date, I think we've provided £2.5 million to Islington Council in social value"[07:20] The TOMS framework challenge: "It basically assigns monetary value to particular things... It's very difficult for us to capture everything"[08:45] Real-time value capture: "We're just sitting at our desk and we see two people meeting... That is social value"[09:40] Culture over explanation: "I think it would almost feel a bit trite... We demonstrate it through doing what we do"[11:40] Wednesday's ritual: "Even if you don't sign up for the actual food, people come just to sit together"[13:01] Opening the doors: "We sell about five places every Wednesday for just members of the general public"[15:40] The invisibility challenge: "From the ground floor, you really can't tell that we're there"[17:52] Neighbourhood celebrity: "I walk down Finsbury Park and people wave at me so much that I feel like a minor celebrity"[19:49] Cross-pollination success: "There's been so much cross-pollination between Founders and Coders and the tech businesses in our space"[21:19] The Discord job board: "It's amazing how many people actually look and apply and get those jobs"[23:20] Monthly structured networking: "That's actually created a lot of work for people, freelancers in particular"[26:31] The origin story: "That's why Space4 was born, to be a centre point, a hub for the tech worker co-op movement"[27:51] Three-layer community: "Space4 has the desk users... the co-tech, co-op community... [and] people who come here for events. That's our virtual membership"🎯 Thematic BreakdownThe Origin Story That Explains EverythingSpace4 wasn't born as a coworking space. It was born as infrastructure for a movement."Outlandish Co-op... realised that there are other tech worker cooperatives in the country, but we weren't talking enough to each other." So, they co-founded Co-Tech, now comprising 26 worker cooperatives, and created Space4 as their physical home.This origin as movement infrastructure, rather than a commercial venture, shapes everything: the cooperative ownership, the social value model, and the careful curation of events "at the intersection of social impact co-ops and tech."Polly, the founding manager, set the template. Now Natasha and Maddy carry it forward, understanding that they're stewarding something bigger than a workspace.The £2.5 Million Question: Measuring the UnmeasurableThe TOMS framework assigns monetary value to social outcomes. Jobs created. Business support hours. Skills developed. But as Natasha admits, capturing informal value exchange is "definitely a challenge.""Sometimes we're literally just sitting at our desk and we see two people meeting in a meeting room and we're like, Oh, what's that about? That is social value. We record it."The real value often reveals itself months later—someone mentions they got a job, a project launches, a business pivots based on lunchtime advice. Maddy tracks it all monthly for the council, but both know they capture maybe half of what happens.This isn't a bug; it's a feature. The most valuable exchanges resist measurement because they're organic, informal, and unexpected. The framework lends them legitimacy with the council, but the real work takes place in the unmeasured spaces.Wednesday Lunch: The Heartbeat of Economic Democracy"It's a spreadsheet that gets spread around in our internal Discord."This mundane detail reveals sophisticated community infrastructure. Wednesday lunch isn't catered; someone from the space organises it. They buy from independent local restaurants. Fifteen people gather."It's effectively a networking session, but we call it Community Lunch." The reframe matters. Networking sounds like an obligation. Lunch sounds like community.Opening five spots to the public via Eventbrite creates porosity. Members bring potential clients. Strangers become regulars. The boundary between inside and outside softens.As Bernie notes, bringing someone to Wednesday lunch shows them "the full experience" better than any tour could. It's Space4 at its best: informal, productive, and genuinely communal.The Invisibility Advantage"There's a massive black gate or a very discreet grey door to get into our space. You can't pass it and be curious about it."This architectural challenge has become a strategic advantage. Without foot traffic, every member is intentional. Without visibility, they work harder to connect with the neighbourhood.The solution? Become the neighbourhood's best customer first. "As a business, as Outlandish, we also have a team lunch on Tuesday, and we visit the local businesses." Wednesday lunches support independent restaurants. Events draw from the voluntary sector."I walk down Finsbury Park and people wave at me so much that I feel like a minor celebrity." Not because of marketing, but because of consistent presence, regular customers, and genuine connections.The Three-Layer Community ModelNatasha articulates something crucial: Space4 isn't one community but three overlapping ones.First, the desk users—70-90 members at human scale, where "people will ask who you are if they haven't seen you before."Second, the Co-Tech network comprises 26 cooperatives that view Space4 as a movement headquarters.Third, the "virtual membership"—people who attend events, never rent desks, but "see this as a destination to come to for interesting events at the intersection of social impact co-ops and tech."This model recognises that community value isn't just about desk rental. It's about creating multiple ways to belong, contribute, and benefit.Infrastructure for Freelance Survival"Being self-employed is so difficult. You're running a whole business by yourself, all the different departments at the same time."Natasha's freelance background shapes her approach. She knows the isolation, the endless decisions, the time haemorrhaged, wondering whether to use FreeAgent or QuickBooks.The monthly "give us gain style of referrals" sessions have "created a lot of work for people, freelancers in particular." The Discord job board connects members to opportunities. The free trial day lets culture explain itself through experience.These aren't perks; they're survival infrastructure for the 4.8 million self-employed workers navigating the UK economy.Why This Model Matters: A Blueprint for Economic DemocracyEight years in, Space4 has proven something important: you can build sustainable economic infrastructure that serves neighbourhood needs rather than extracting neighbourhood value.The numbers tell one story: £2.5 million in social value, 26 cooperatives supported, hundreds of Founders and Coders graduates placed in jobs.But the deeper story is about ownership and control. Two women of colour are running a worker-owned cooperative with "complete independence" over decisions that shape their neighbourhood's economic future.This isn't charity. It's not corporate social responsibility. It's what economic democracy looks like in practice: slow, steady, rooted, and transformative.🔗 Links & ResourcesNatasha & Space4* Space4 Website* Sign up for Space4 mailing here.* Follow Space4 on LinkedIn for events and updates* Space4 Eventbrite - Wednesday Community Lunch*