From New Left to Social Enterprise: A Conceptual History of the Industrial Common Ownership Movement, 1971–2001

New Labour governments presided over a major political rupture with the Co-operative Movement, which is not described elsewhere. Labour discarded democratic, co-operative and mutual structures in favour of individually controlled social enterprises which could be used for flexible, low-cost public service delivery. Interviews with key players show these tensions laid bare in ways which other commentators have missed. In a major political difference between the Labour and Co-operative Movements through a shift to looser definitions for the third sector, New Labour’s policy change was as significant as its abandonment of its 1918 Clause IV of the Party’s Constitution in 1995. New Labour sought to transpose 1970s and 1980s social enterprises and local community organisations within a strategy to reduce public expenditure. Because the democratic accountability of earlier co-operative, mutual and community structures would have limited their acceptance of repositioning and changed roles, New Labour encouraged new legal structures with reduced accountability. Other contributions have underestimated the significance of this shift away from common ownership structures promoted by the Industrial Common Ownership Movement (ICOM) as the genuine antecedents of today’s social enterprises. The inauguration of Social Enterprise London, the Social Enterprise Coalition, the DTI Social Enterprise Unit and legislation and proposals between 1998 and 2002 formed a basis for UK social enterprise policy for the next twenty years.

In recent years, social entrepreneurs have begun to do something remarkable. Rather than pursue purely profit — like a traditional corporation — or pursue purely the public good — like a tradition nonprofit, social entrepreneurs have begun to do both. In response to increased market demand, several states have created new hybrid corporate forms to streamline these social enterprises. The rhetoric surrounding the emergence of social enterprise tends to be hyperbolic. Some see social enterprise as a potential panacea to the ills and excesses of corporations. Others view it as a potentially dangerous fad. This Note explores social enterprise and benefit corporations, currently the most popular form of social enterprise. Part I focuses on the social enterprise movement more generally. After exploring the role of social enterprise in the market, Part I turns to the shortcoming of traditional forms. There, it is shown that the traditional nonprofit-for-profit paradigm is ill suited for the needs of social entrepreneurs. Market participants — consumers, investors, entrepreneurs, and employers — all increasingly demand entities that pursue both profit and the social good. Although companies often purport to be concerned with the social and environmental issues, it is difficult for these groups to tell a good company from good marketing. Finally, Part I concludes by hypothesizing about the ideal social enterprise. Part II focuses on the benefit corporation, evaluating whether benefit corporations represent a niche, novelty, or revolution. It assesses benefit corporations against three criteria, how they compare to existing law, low-profit limited liability corporations (an alternative hybrid legal form), and the ideal social enterprise. In doing so, Part II considers the two main criticism of benefit corporations — that they are neither necessary nor sufficient to establishing a sustainable social enterprise. Ultimately, this Note concludes that benefit corporations are neither a revolution nor a novelty. Instead, they currently represent a growing niche in the market — one that deserves cautious optimism.

Nomenclature around social enterprise, social entrepreneurship, the social economy, social business, or social purpose business means different things to different people under different circumstances. Sometimes, it means different things to the same people in the same circumstances – sometimes even in the same conversation. Clarity can be especially relevant for nonprofits – particularly charitable, tax-exempt nonprofits – for at least three reasons. First, they undertake their own strategic efforts to engage the marketplace to generate revenue and/or advance/scale their programmatic objectives. Second, they are often approached by enterprises purporting to be – even fully believing they are – social. Finally, charities increasingly compete with “social enterprises” for financial support, employees, customers, policymaker attention, etc. Given legal compliance mandates, charities must clearly understand who they are engaging with, how, and the extent of alignment or lack thereof. It can be reasonable to want government regulatory and policy interventions to help force much-needed clarity, which would also benefit the social enterprise movement and its enterprises. Regulatory and policy interventions could reduce green/purpose washing, ambiguity, and confusion and promote aligned engagement, but only if that “middle” space is sufficiently differentiated from traditional approaches and/or flexibility. Neither interest is served by vague invocations of nebulous degrees of attention to owner financial interests, market participation, and social good.Differentiation is important – if not essential. Differentiation must allow for reliably, consistently, and uniformly ascertaining over time what counts as a social enterprise and what does not. If “virtually any organization can call itself a social enterprise,” it will lead to “blurriness as to which business is actually a ‘social’ one,” which arguably describes the current state in the U.S. Whether through legal structure or modalities, social enterprises should exhibit the following: (1) heightened commitment to social good, (2) greater intentionality about predictably and reliably connecting their behaviors to socially good outcomes, and (3) consistency through time and persistence through circumstance. This essay submits that the U.S. lacks coherence, predictability, differentiation, critical mass, and a general will to enforce a reliable ordering of priorities that persists over time and can weather changes in ownership priorities and personnel. Even so, there are organizations whose operations are sufficiently different. There are also those that only purport to be different enough. Until there is differentiation at scale, this essay suggests that government regulation in the present will need to be through means applicable to for-profit businesses and, in the process, help identify green/purpose washing, promote clearer communication of purposes and priorities, and facilitate alignment. This essay first evaluates words commonly used in reference to social enterprise – impact, intentions, and outcomes – but finds them deficient. The essay next considers means for differentiation per the three characteristics listed above. Finally, the essay compares how other countries have invoked those concepts through legal structures or modalities, ultimately concluding that the legal structures and modalities in the U.S. do not support finding a cohesive “middle” space, yet.

Mission Accomplished? Balancing Market Growth and Moral Legitimation in the Fair Trade Moral Market

After a brief description of the early history of the Co-operative movement, the author turns to the Rochdale Pioneers and the foundations they lay for a co-operative community of a non-Owenite type.

This chapter has provided an overview of the concepts of social entrepreneurship and innovation. It has highlighted the fact that social entrepreneurs use the same skills and behaviours of traditional entrepreneurs, but for a social rather than an economic purpose. The social entrepreneur can be found in a wide range of environments that can include non-profit and voluntary organisations through to for-profit organisations. Social entrepreneurship seeks to build a social value proposition that draws together people and capital to exploit opportunities for social capital building. Social entrepreneurship and innovation are new and emerging concepts that remain poorly defined. However, since the 1990s there has been a growing recognition of the importance of the social economy and the social enterprise. The ‘third way’ was a reaction to the ‘economic rationalism’ that became prominent in the 1980s. An important form of social enterprise is the co-operative. This type of business model has been in operation for centuries, and the principles of the Rochdale Society founded in 1844 remain the basis for the global co-operative enterprise movement that encompasses some of the largest business organisations in the world. Co-operatives offer economic and social benefits to their members and can be found in a wide range of industries. They play an important role in regional and community development. However, co-operatives suffer from some generic problems associated with their collective ownership rights, and recent trends have seen the formation of a new generation co-operative business model designed to alleviate some of these problems. The theory of community-based enterprise (CBE) suggests that, where a community is suffering economic or social stress but has a tradition of collective problem-solving and sufficient social capital willing to become involved and provide the necessary critical mass, a CBE can form. It will be based on available community skills, have a range of goals, and succeed if there is sufficient community participation.

SummaryMotivationWomen’s empowerment has been an integral part of the discussion on normative coherence for development, but its implementation is not very effective in Myanmar. Gender must be kept at the forefront of policy analysis in order to avoid unintended consequences for women.PurposeThe article argues that the Government of Myanmar lacks initiatives on women’s economic empowerment, but that social enterprises could prove to be a more appropriate way to implement international norms in gender equality.Methods and approachThis case study uses descriptive research to verify how social entrepreneurship can contribute to women's empowerment by increasing women’s participation in the labour market. The empirical part of this study is based on field research undertaken in February 2019.FindingsIn Myanmar, there is still a gap between normative policies and social practices. Women’s legal and actual equality cannot be realized by law and philosophy alone, but also depends on a shift in political, economic, and social actions to ensure that women can participate in the public sphere on an equal basis as men, and enjoy equal economic opportunities. The article explores the role that social enterprises are already playing as an example of how international development norms are implemented at the local level.Policy implicationsThe article highlights the appropriateness of social enterprises as catalysts of gender equality and as agents of normative gender coherence for development. Social enterprises take an inclusive and sustainable approach to addressing issues, making women’s livelihoods central.

Among the host of activities supported by social enterprises, the integration of disadvantaged workers is the most widespread, and not only in places where unemployment is high or during times of economic crisis (Davister et al. 2004). Participation in the labour market is a crucial form of social integration through which individuals affirm their identities (Schmid 1998). As a defining feature of human existence, work is crucial to the welfare of families and to the stability of societies. Nevertheless, not all human beings have the same opportunities to work. Within the labour market, there are always individuals and groups whose characteristics-physical, social, or demographic-influence the extent to which they are able to participate (Smith and Twomey 2002). As such, exclusion from the labour market can be considered as one of the most important causes of social exclusion. In addition to criticism from an ethical and civic point of view, the failure to integrate all potentially productive workers is a source of inefficiency, since it wastes resources and generates additional costs (Borzaga et al. 2001). Against this background, there has been a growing recognition by governments and organizations of the economic burden placed on others by people excluded from the labour market (Yeo and Moore 2003). Given the goal of equal treatment in the labour force, specific policies have been adopted to ensure employment opportunities for disadvantaged workers. Despite their evolution over time, these policies have not proved to be satisfactory (Borzaga et al. 2001). Starting in the 1980s, new productive initiativesdefined as social enterprises-have developed bottom-up with the goal of supporting the full integration of disadvantaged workers into the labour market. The effectiveness of social enterprises stems from their capacity to provide an institutional response to the labour market’s incapacity to adequately allocate the available labour force. As such, a work integration social enterprise is an institutional mechanism of supported employment that favours workers discriminated against by conventional enterprises and provides them with appropriate on-the-job training to help them overcome their disadvantages (Borzaga 2007). The pioneering role of these enterprises is demonstrated by their early successes in implementing active labour market policies bottom-up before these policies became institutionalized and started to be adopted by public authorities (Defourny and Nyssens 2008).

Top-down local area policies in response to urban deprivation forms a context for the growth of indigenous local organisations in the 1960s to 1980s. Little direct government funding was available to communities, with most support from private foundations and European funds, later using inspiration from American and European community structures. Most community organisations were created through market failure and massive job losses and were very different from their later counterparts which accepted market discipline within a competitive new role from government. The Industrial Common Ownership Movement (ICOM), the 1976 Industrial Common Ownership Act and 1978 Co-operative Development Agency Act provided a platform for growth of more than 2000 common ownership structures, with support from Beechwood College, Leeds. In 1981 Beechwood provided a Social Audit Manual as a more comprehensive social enterprise manifesto than the think tank, Demos, sixteen years later. Gradual marketisation, promoted by the National Council for Voluntary Organisations (NCVO) and through the creation of ‘quasi markets’ was followed by a range of Demos think tank proposals. NCVO’s Deakin Commission recommended a contractual relationship between government and the voluntary and community sector, which was also recommended by the 1993 CENTRIS Report. All this formed the basis for New Labour’s further marketisation of the voluntary, community and social enterprise sectors to engage in competition with the private sector for delivery of public services.

As a special community, the drug addicts cannot integrate into the society easily. In the case study of Kunming Q social enterprise, the author found out that it was effective to help drug addicts integrate into the society, combining government investment with social enterprise operation and the social participation. But this government-nonprofit collaboration was not successful at last. The failure was originated from these factors, which included market competition, social entrepreneur, inner-governance and participators’ congruent goals, and the last was more important.

The British Cooperative movement offers a curious case of utopianism in which Robert Owen’s program for total social and economic transformation (the creation of a “New Moral World”) finds its most durable, practical expression in a small shop founded by the “Rochdale Pioneers.” The success of the Rochdale model created a national, then international, movement (which is still with us today) that improved the lives of many working-class people, in multiple ways, in the period between 1860 and 1950. However, despite its undeniable success, the British Cooperative movement increasingly adapted to, rather than transformed, the social and economic order within which it operated: a case of utopia stalled or deferred.George Jacob Holyoake, the subject of Stephen Yeo’s study, was an important figure both within and beyond the Cooperative movement. He began his agitational career as an Owenite social missionary, served on the Executive Committee of the Chartist movement, and was a stalwart campaigner for secularism and free thought. As Yeo notes, Holyoake edited eighteen journals across his career (including a fifteen-year stint as editor of The Reasoner) and served on the executive committees of twenty-two progressive movements (30). Holyoake was an important advocate, activist, and thinker within the Cooperative movement. However, due to his suspicion of systematic modes of thought, he was not a theoretician. The term Yeo settles on to describe his career, “Victorian agitator,” seems appropriate for a man who titled his autobiography Sixty Years of an Agitator’s Life (1892).It is a tribute to Holyoake’s significance within the Cooperative movement that the first permanent headquarters of the Co-operative Union (built in 1911) bears his name. That building, Holyoake House, still stands on Hanover Street, Manchester. This volume is also concerned with Holyoake’s contemporary presence, particularly the question of whether those latent utopian energies (represented by both Holyoake and the wider Cooperative movement) might be revived in the present moment; in Stephen Yeo’s own words: “Could this idiosyncratic agitator, journalist and moralist be a resource for a journey of hope among today’s co-operators or—to use a word not used by Holyoake—for ‘co-operativism’?” (8). The allusion to the work of Raymond Williams signals Yeo’s basic political orientation, part of the British “New Left,” but in Yeo’s case rather skeptical of the Marxist tradition. Victorian Agitator is the first volume in a three-volume series entitled A History of Association, Co-operation and Education for Un-statist Socialism in 19th and 20th Century Britain. Admittedly, this is an unwieldy title, but it gives a flavor of the historical, political, and intellectual ground that the project seeks to cover.It is important to note from the outset that this is not a conventional “academic” study of Holyoake. This does not mean that this work is not well researched, thoughtful, and thought-provoking, for it is all of these things. Nor is it a biography of Holyoake or a study of his intellectual and political development, although it discusses all these things. Rather, it is driven by a single speculative yet practically focused question—What in Holyoake’s thought remains vital? Accordingly, Yeo’s treatment of Holyoake is strategic rather than totalizing. This is not a hagiography, not an attempt to install Holyoake as offering an answer to all of our problems. Yeo expresses a great deal of admiration, affection, and respect for his subject—and why shouldn’t he, given the nature of Holyoake’s commitments and achievements? However, Yeo never loses sight of the “presentist” aims of his study. As stated earlier, this is not a conventional academic study, and it is all the better for it. Indeed, it is the kind of book I wish more academics would write more often.Victorian Agitator is organized into two parts: the first part, “Life and Leading Ideas,” offers a brief overview of Holyoake’s career and intellectual development, effectively summarized by Yeo as “Owenism, but without the cult of Owen, from the mid-1830s onwards; an ambitious, inclusive secularism from the early 1850s; and the positive neutrality of the co-operative movement at its multi-faith best from the 1860s onwards” (170). Part 2, “A Useable Past?” is subdivided into three sections; the first argues for a view of cooperation as an “associational-socialist alternative to the Marxist revolutionary tradition of c.1848 to c.1959.” The second section explores cooperation as an “autonomous, ethical or moral ‘tradition’” (73), while the third considers the extent to which cooperation might be thought of as a religion as well as the utility of thinking about cooperation in this way.At first sight, the focus on religion seems odd given Holyoake’s long career as a campaigner for secularism. However, as Yeo points out, Holyoake himself regarded the religious/secular binary as simplistic (158) and was as critical of “dogmatic atheism” as he was of religious intolerance (64). More importantly, Yeo notes the continuing power of religious ideas in the twenty-first century, not only in the rise of various forms of fundamentalism (160–61) but also in the ways in which notions such as “the market,” “the economy,” and “competitiveness” have clearly become fetishes or objects of nonrational forms of “worship” (77). In response to this Yeo’s present-focused suggestion is “that it might appeal to young people … to articulate a ‘religion of co-operation’” with Holyoake as one of its prophets (77).Yeo recognizes that his suggestion involves redefining the notion of “religion” in such a way as to make it useful for cooperation. However, this seems to me to be both strategically and philosophically confused. What Yeo wants is not just an overarching philosophy (body of ideas) capable of giving an immanent (as opposed to transcendent) meaning to human existence. More ambitiously, he recognizes the need for a philosophy that can generate a set of ethical/moral principles (or values) by which human society might be regulated and which are capable of being practised every day. In effect, Yeo desires an integrated “social-politics” that through its daily practices is capable of continually closing the gap between the current social order and the transformed social order desired by the activist: in short, an everyday practice that avoids the pitfalls of postponement (in which all forms of justice reside “after the revolution”) but which also holds to the possibility of total social transformation—a micro-politics that is simultaneously a macro-politics.Yeo identifies a number of ways in which he feels cooperation or associationism meets this need. He demonstrates, for example, the ways in which the Cooperative movement offered an alternative to the Victorian trinity of individual, family, and nation, by proposing “member” as a genuinely universal identity (78). He charts Holyoake’s various attempts to define the movement’s key principles, reducing the fourteen principles of the Rochdale model to four: concord, economy, equity, and self-help; Yeo also notes that Derby cooperators also identified “participation and education” as their leading principles (138). Holyoake’s insistence on “difference or positive neutrality” might also be added to this list (157). As Yeo observes, for Owenites, “harmony was never the same as homogeneity,” which, he suggests, possibly explains the “affinity between late-nineteenth century Co-operative Societies and choirs” (38). Indeed, I would have welcomed a more extensive engagement with this aspect of Holyoake’s thought. For example, to what extent might Holyoake’s Hostile and generous toleration (a new theory of toleration) (1856) help us plot a course through some of the more intractable problems (both philosophical and organizational) raised by contemporary identity politics?These are important matters, but the extent to which a lens marked “religion” brings them into sharper focus in unclear. A more productive approach is suggested by Yeo’s engagement with the moral philosopher Alasdair MacIntyre’s work on the idea of a “moral tradition” (106). Yeo observes that in MacIntyre’s work “a philosophical, ethical or religious tradition is nothing less than a body of enquiry into ‘what practical rationality is and what justice is’” (110). As Yeo demonstrates in part 2B (114–57), a strong case can be made for considering cooperation as just such a tradition. Therefore, it is difficult to see what extra advantage accrues from identifying cooperation as a religion, unless “religion” is assumed to be of inherently greater value than a “tradition.”A rather more profitable area of debate concerns the relationship between principles and forms of organization (or between justice and practical rationality, to use MacIntyre’s terms). This is a perennial dilemma for any project of social transformation, which is given particular focus in the present moment by the competing claims of the “political party” and the “social movement” as the preferred organizational form. In this context, Holyoake, with a lifetime’s experience of political and social activism, constitutes an especially useful resource. As Yeo demonstrates, Holyoake was a splendid aphorist, and many of his maxims provide touchstones for practical action. For example, on the question of building unity Holyoake reminds us that “the solution of the problem of union can only be effected by narrowing the ground of profession, and widening that of action” (89). Similarly, Holyoake’s warning against “Paternal Despotism” and accompanying insistence on a “bottom-up” rather than a “top-down” approach to human liberation—“God preserve working men from the ‘Saviours of Society’”—remains as timely as ever (32). Of even greater value is Holyoake’s insistence on the agency possessed, both individually and collectively, by “ordinary” people. As Yeo observes, for Holyoake “Labour already has power: the power which belongs to making and doing,” and the challenge remains that of finding ways of harnessing this power to humanly productive ends (46). Equally prescient is Holyoake’s understanding of “social movements as forms of human creativity” (71).However, Yeo does not evade the problems faced by the Cooperative movement then and now. These include the difficulties of organizing cooperatively in the sphere of production as well as of distribution and avoiding the problem of becoming “working-class limiteds,” as well as questions of size and federation and the competing claims of representative and delegate democracy (144–47). Yeo records Holyoake’s general support for cooperative production as well as his efforts to ensure that the Cooperative movement did not degenerate into a commercial movement, but he has little to say on Holyoake’s ideas regarding organization and democracy (152–53).Ultimately, Victorian Agitator offers a fascinating and stimulating overview of Holyoake’s thought and its relevance to the contemporary world. For Holyoake, the Cooperative movement provided a means of building an alternative market within its capitalist counterpart and constructing a new form of state within the state. The vision is of complete social transformation achieved by simultaneously hollowing out the structures of the old, immoral, world and replacing them with a “positive moral and social culture” (90). Perhaps this might be described as a theory of “permanent reform” rather than “permanent revolution,” and Holyoake’s insistence on the identity of means and ends is certainly attractive. Yeo clearly regards cooperation as an “alternative to the Marxist revolutionary tradition” (73), not least because of Holyoake’s insistence not just on the possibility but on the necessity of peaceful social transformation. The interpellation of Marxism as an antagonist seems gratuitous and counterproductive here. I need no persuasion as to the desirability of peaceful transformation. However, I think that the likelihood of such change is far less certain.

PurposeIn light of the faster than expected take up of the community interest company (CIC) in the UK, the purpose of this paper is to revisit findings from a study undertaken in 2000 on the impact of asset‐locks on the longevity, growth and management styles in co‐operative social enterprises.Design/methodology/approachThis paper is both conceptual and empirical. It examines different worker co‐operative traditions and develops a meta‐theory that explains underlying assumptions in different forms of co‐operative social enterprise. Using empirical data from five common ownership co‐operatives and five equity‐based co‐operatives, this exploratory study finds differences in management style, access to finance and growth prospects both within and between the two groups.FindingsDevolution of management responsibilities is more prevalent in co‐operatives permitting both individual and collective ownership, as opposed to common ownership. Access to external finance is less problematic for organisations where individuals have made investments. Despite this, it is not established that organisations with external equity or loan finance grow quicker or fare better over the longer term.Originality/valueThe value of the paper lies both in the development of a meta‐theoretical framework for differentiating forms of worker co‐operative, as well as empirical evidence on the impact of asset‐locks in the management and development of social enterprises. The study suggests that the companies limited by share (CLS) version of the CIC, or abandonment of the CIC in favour of an appropriately structured CLS or Industrial and Provident Society model, may be appropriate for social enterprises wishing to grow, but makes little difference in small service oriented social enterprises.

The British Co-operative Movement. By Jack Bailey. (Hutchinson's University Library: Politics.) London: Hutchinson and Company, 1955; New York: Longmans, Green and Company. Pp. 180. Text edition, 2.40. - Volume 16 Issue 3

Journal Article The British Co-operative Movement in a Socialist Society Get access The British Co-operative Movement in a Socialist Society. By G. D. H. COLE. (London : Allen and Unwin, 1951. Pp. 168. 12s. 6d.) H. Smith H. Smith Ruskin College, Oxford Search for other works by this author on: Oxford Academic Google Scholar The Economic Journal, Volume 62, Issue 246, 1 June 1952, Pages 396–397, https://doi.org/10.2307/2227030 Published: 01 June 1952

This thematically structured book about the British co-operative movement is a welcome addition to the field of co-operative studies and historical studies in general. The themes covered in the book are: ‘the impact of the movement on the economic and recreational lives of its members; consumption and consumer issues; and the role of the co-operative movement played within the labour movement’ (p. 11). Geographically we travel from the capital to mining communities in Wales into the Midlands and up to Scotland. The eight retail societies studied reflects, according to the author, both the general development of a consumer co-operative movement in Britain and the variations in character that was the outcome of interaction between central and local levels within the movement. Besides writing a history about co-operative developments, Robertson also wishes to use the co-operative material to tell us something about community life in a number of villages, towns, and cities in times of war, boom, depression, and prosperity in Britain.