Back in the 1960s and 1970s, my grandparents were keen members of a number of bowls clubs. Each weekend and many evenings, in the season, they would be playing against other clubs. At the end of the season, there would be a grand dinner with speeches and trophies, and the club captains would be announced for the following season. The clubs were predominantly middle class and therefore, largely, politically neutral. Some remained strictly, ‘village’ entities, though some affiliated themselves to the Working Men’s Club & Institute Union, to allow them to run active social clubs and bars throughout the year. At some point, off-season, there would be an Annual General Meeting (AGM) of the club. The meeting would discuss the finances, the social programme for the year, any contentious issues about playing with other clubs (such as the cleanliness of their visitor’s changing rooms). Elections would be held for various ‘executive’ roles – Chair, Secretary, Treasurer, Press Officer, Fixtures Secretary, Refreshments Secretary, and Scorers’ Coordinator are the ones I can remember though I am sure there were many more. These names would appear on the reverse of the annual fixtures card which would be distributed before the first game of the new season. Members were expected to be active in the club – you couldn’t just turn up and bowl. Attendance at the AGM was not mandatory, but it was nearly so.
The clubs had often existed for decades – many from just after the First World War. While games tended to stop in the Second World War, the clubs continued. Responsibilities for specific activities would be taken up by individuals on the basis of assumed social roles. A bank manager would become the Treasurer, a local solicitor became Chairman, the Vicar’s wife organised teas, and so on.
In the late 1940s and early 1950s, largely as a result of the social changes that had happened in the wartime, the middle and working classes became more politically engaged. No longer could many politicians assume that they would be returned to Parliament just because they were Tory. The political map became polarised. The populace became far more confident with the tools of democracy and expected to be consulted on decisions affecting them, ultimately having a vote on significant matters. This shift affected bowls clubs too. Whereas many had had club rules in the past, it became the norm to have a constitution. The same was happening in other social and sports clubs. Eventually, national bodies drew up ‘model’ constitutions in the hope that some consistency would emerge, though this wasn’t always successful. At this point, the idea of electing club officials was introduced. It was no longer acceptable for the local bank manager to always be the Treasurer, and there would be competition for the prestige of these jobs.
Although the socialist surge of the post-War period was diminishing, Britons enjoyed a decade of fun, entertainment, and almost extravagance. Throughout these “swinging Sixties”, most families enjoyed a life-work balance that allowed them to have hobbies and engage in sport – whether as participants or supporters. Holidays were sacrosanct and weekends included ‘family time’. However, times change. In the 1970s, the political nature of British society shifted enormously. The economy had been very weak, unemployment rose, opportunities were few, and there was little spare money for hobbies and holidays. By 1979, after a fierce campaign and one of the first in which the power of the media was unequivocally significant, Margaret Thatcher became Prime Minister. For the next decade, she introduced her political philosophy that shifted from the State being a safety net, to one where the emphasis was on the individual, their responsibility to look after themselves, and their accountability through direct taxation. As a consequence of these changes, people had less time for leisure activities, and when they did they expected to be able to turn up, do, and go home again – not to have to take responsibility for running clubs and facilities.
From the 1980s onwards, sports and community clubs have struggled. Their membership has dwindled, and with it their income. As a result, their fabric has decayed; their facilities have not been maintained as they used to be and many have vacancies among their ‘executive’ because nobody is prepared to volunteer for them. Executive committees have the same faces year in, year out. The few newcomers soon complain that there is a clique and leave. Whether it is a bowls club, a camera club, a Women’s Institute, or any other the same problems persist.
For the last three decades, this decline has continued. Many clubs last as long as one of the older members is prepared to ‘hang in there’, but when they leave, the club either closes, or a new leader emerges only to quickly lose faith in the possibility of change and they eventually close it down.
Of course, there are exceptions. In a few cases, a local champion finds a way to rejuvenate the club or society, but these are usually exceptional one-off solutions. In a few cases, they radically reinvent themselves – a reading group evolving into a major Literary Festival, for example.
One of the encumbrances that many of these clubs have is their constitution. What worked in the 1950s, isn’t fit for the 2020s. While the national bodies have tried hard to enforce a model, these have rarely been boldly different – with a fear of grass-roots rebellion preventing them from proposing sweeping changes. Clubs struggle to conform, and threats of ex-communication and the withholding of funds, the bribery of Club Excellence badges, or competitive league tables based on hours of volunteering, funds raised, events organised, and so on, do not help them address the absence of willing volunteers. Even the more pragmatic national bodies that have said; “Volunteering is at our core; whether you can give 10 minutes or 50 days you will still be welcome”, remain foisted by the fake democracy of their branch constitutions. Fake democracy, because there’s no democracy when there are fewer volunteers than roles, and when so few of the members are interested in participating in any kind of ‘annual general meeting’ let alone an election process.
How, then, do such groups manage to maintain or move forward?
