Coworking Values Podcast

Bernie J Mitchell

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MANAGEMENT
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Welcome to Coworking Values the podcast of the European Coworking Assembly. Each week we deep dive into one of the values of accessibility, community, openness, collaboration and sustainability. Listen in to learn how these values can make or break Coworking culture. coworkingvaluespodcast.substack.com

FEB 26

Why Glasgow's First Coworking Space Stayed All-Subscription with Teresa Jackson

“I found myself with a building, a smaller building than the one I’m in now, with the bills to pay, and was a bit like, Oh, dear, I’m going to have to do something about this.” —Teresa Jackson The journey continues - May 19th On May 19th at Space4, the Unreasonable Connection Goes Live! The London Coworking Assembly Forum is back for part two. A one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive. Episode Summary Teresa Jackson didn’t set out to become a coworking pioneer. She was working from a flat in Glasgow’s city centre, bouncing between her dining table and a sofa three feet away. You know that feeling—laptop balanced on your knees, no separation between work and life, the walls closing in a bit more each day. She’d been running a networking organisation called 4 Networking—23 groups across Scotland in the first year—and knew plenty of freelancers and small business owners in the same boat. So she asked a few of them: what if we rented an office together? A few people said yes. Then she signed the lease on an attic space on John Street. No lift. Tiny kitchen. A proper commitment. Then, as often happens when it’s time to actually pay, some of those people vanished into the sunset. She was left holding the keys to a building she couldn’t afford alone. That moment—being stuck with the bills and no plan—is where Collabor8te actually began. Teresa applied the membership model she knew from networking to the space. Monthly subscription. No long-term commitment. Book what you need when you need it. She started with a 32-hour membership, then added a 12-hour “now and then” option when people said they liked the idea but weren’t sure they’d use it that much. That was 2014. By 2016, they’d moved to 22 Montrose Street—a Victorian sandstone building in the Merchant City with 40 desks, 9 meeting rooms, and room for about 100 people at any one time. Today, Collabor8te has 350 members. It’s still all subscription. Still no dedicated desks. Still monthly, flexible, all-inclusive. Bernie and Teresa talk through what it actually means to run a space like this—where members can cancel with a month’s notice, but you’re locked into a long-term lease. They discuss the difference between networking (transactional, two hours of business development) and coworking (ambient learning from just being in the room). They get into Teresa’s B Corp journey, which started as a lockdown project and ended with a governance structure that legally prevents the space from being sold to private equity. And they talk about the 4-day work week Teresa introduced for her staff, and how that works when your business is meant to be open and welcoming all the time. This episode is for anyone who’s ever signed a lease and then realised they had no idea what they were doing. Timeline Highlights [01:18] Teresa on what she’d like to be known for: “Providing the most welcoming coworking space that is possible to... in the world.” [02:09] The accidental start: “I got into coworking by a complete accident.” [03:09] When commitment gets real: “I found myself with a building... with the bills to pay, and was a bit like, Oh, dear, I’m going to have to do something about this” [03:46] The model that never changed: “It’s always been monthly. It’s always been all-inclusive memberships.” [05:11] Bernie on whether Teresa questions her model: “Do you see other people doing different memberships and go, Oh, my God, am I doing this right?” [06:00] Teresa on why their model works: “I think where we are based in the city centre, that we’re all subscription, we do buck the trend.” [06:49] On attracting the right people: “We attract a certain type of person because of what we do here... you have to want to share.” [07:27] Glasgow’s first: “It was the first coworking space in Glasgow.” [08:40] How people come for community now: “Now I think people are drawn to, I want to be with other people. I don’t want to be sitting at home on my own all the time.” [10:19] On the “hijacking” of coworking: “Everyone thinks they can open a coworking space these days. It’s just always nice and easy. But... it’s a big risk.” [13:15] Teresa on the accidental nature of it: “If I hadn’t found myself in that situation, would I have done it? I don’t know.” [16:54] Natural networking: “You aren’t just networking with people while you’re making a coffee in the kitchen... you get to know your fellow coworkers and become friends.” [18:18] The B Corp project: “We wanted a project. We were a bit bored... this would be a good challenge.” [22:20] What B Corp revealed: “We learned lots of things. One of the main things, I think, was we had to write things down.” [24:18] The 4-day week and other changes: “We introduced some things... private health care... cycle to work scheme... a four-day working week.” The Widow-Maker Lease Let’s be clear about what Teresa signed herself up for. A commercial lease in Glasgow’s Merchant City on a Victorian sandstone building is likely a 10-year Full Repairing and Insuring lease. That means every crack in the facade, every leak in the roof, every drain that backs up—that’s on her. Not the landlord. Her. If the Victorian roof at 22 Montrose Street fails, Teresa pays to fix it. If the sandstone needs repointing, Teresa pays. If the boiler dies in January, Teresa pays. This isn’t a month-to-month WeWork membership. This is a decade-long liability that could bankrupt you if the building turns against you. And who are her customers? People paying £200 a month who can cancel with 30 days’ notice. Teresa absorbs 100% of the risk. Her members carry none. “I found myself with a building... with the bills to pay, and was a bit like, Oh, dear, I’m going to have to do something about this.” That “Oh, dear” is doing a lot of work. It’s the voice of someone who’s just realised they’re standing on the edge of a financial cliff, and the only way forward is to build a bridge while walking across it. Most people in that situation would panic and try to lock members into long-term contracts. Annual commitments. Upfront payments. Anything to create certainty. Teresa did the opposite. She made it easier to leave. Monthly memberships. Cancel anytime. No questions asked. Why? Because she understood something fundamental: you can’t build community by trapping people. The subscription model works because it builds trust rather than extracting commitment. Members don’t stay because they’re locked in. They stay because they don’t want to leave. That’s a completely different kind of certainty. And it only works if you’re willing to carry the risk yourself. The Glasgow Texture Montrose Street sits in the Merchant City, the heart of old Glasgow money. The buildings here are Victorian sandstone—the kind that turns golden in rare Scottish sunlight and looks like they’re brooding the rest of the time. This neighbourhood used to belong to the Tobacco Lords, the merchants who built Glasgow’s wealth on transatlantic trade. The warehouses that once stored tobacco now store something else: human capital, ideas, the quiet hum of people working on things that might or might not succeed. Teresa’s building has weight. Thick walls. High ceilings. The kind of space that makes you feel like you’re part of something older than yourself. It’s not a glass-walled startup incubator dropped into the neighbourhood unannounced. It belongs here. That matters. When Teresa talks about attracting “a certain type of person,” she’s not just talking about freelancers who like flexibility. She’s talking about people who recognise the difference between a coworking space that’s embedded in a place and one that’s just renting square footage. Glasgow isn’t London. It doesn’t have the same frictionless money. The people working at Collabor8te are slogging it out—trying to figure out whether to use ChatGPT or Claude, whether to send the invoice before or after the work, and whether WordPress is worth the headache. They need somewhere solid. Somewhere that isn’t going to disappear if the VC funding dries up. Teresa built that. Not on purpose. But she built it. The System Teresa’s Actually Operating Let’s name what Teresa is doing, because she doesn’t quite name it herself. Economist Gary Stevenson’s central argument is this: if you don’t own assets, you’re losing. Wages go up slowly. Asset prices—property, mostly—go up fast. The gap widens. Wealth consolidates. Most freelancers in Glasgow earn wages, not build assets. They can’t afford to buy commercial property. They can’t take on a 10-year FRI lease. They’re locked out of the asset class that actually generates wealth. So what does Teresa do? She takes on the asset risk herself. She signs the widow-maker lease. She carries the liability for the Victorian roof, the sandstone, and the drains. And then she gives her members access to the infrastructure they couldn’t afford to own. Monthly. Flexible. Low-friction. This isn’t charity. It’s not even radical. It’s just civic infrastructure operating outside the council. Teresa is providing the third space that Glasgow’s freelance economy needs to function. She’s doing what the city can’t or won’t do: creating affordable, accessible workspace for people who don’t have deep pockets or investor backing. By staying all-inclusive, Teresa ensures that the barrier to entry stays low. You don’t need six months’ rent upfront. You don’t need a guarantor. You just need to be able to pay this month. That’s wealth redistribution at the street level. It’s not redistributing money. It’s redistributing access to infrastructure. And the reason it works—the reason Teresa hasn’t gone bust in

27 min
FEB 19

How to Turn Developers into Neighborhood Partners with Hannah Philp

Episode Summary “We’re not a service provider beyond being a great space. I think we’re a platform, and that’s key.” Hannah Philp Tired of running yourself into the ground? Then stop running alone. On February 24th, the London Coworking Assembly presents Unreasonable Connection Goes Live!—a one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive. It’s a day to share the load, find real solutions, and build a new playbook, together. Hannah Philp is sitting in ARC Tottenham when this conversation happens. Even through the recording, the space feels calm—that’s the word Hannah keeps using, and you can hear why. It’s designed to be the antidote to the chaos of working from a kitchen table. Bernie mentions he’s known ARC since the beginning, back when they hosted Urban MBA’s 12-week programme in 2021, just as London was allowed to meet in person again during COVID. That history matters because it grounds what Hannah’s trying to do. She didn’t set out to fix London’s housing crisis or redesign the high street. She spotted a simpler, more personal problem. Pre-COVID, she watched people—particularly new parents, carers, anyone with responsibilities beyond their income-generating work—drop out of the paid workforce because the 9-to-5 commute (really 8-to-6 if we’re honest) was incompatible with their lives. The only options were expensive serviced offices for venture-backed companies or working at the kitchen table. Nothing existed for the solo entrepreneur or small team who needed somewhere between those extremes. Hannah’s “why” isn’t abstract. It’s watching people she knew become isolated. It’s recognising that loneliness in dense urban environments has accelerated since the advent of smartphones. It’s believed that doing focused solo work among other people mitigates that loneliness without demanding you participate in organised networking. What started as neighbourhood coworking turned into something more pragmatic: a partnership model with residential developers who control ground floors. Not because developers suddenly care about community (though some do). Because the economics of residential development in the UK have become so challenging that social value is now commercially necessary to unlock planning permission. Bernie asks the question most listeners are thinking: Aren’t developers the problem? Hannah’s answer is refreshingly honest. She knows ARC’s limits. She’s not an urban planner or housing minister. She’s working with what exists—developers who need to make buildings financially viable and councils who want social outcomes. ARC bridges that gap. Then Bernie mentions something Hannah clearly doesn’t want to discuss: a central London hub that wasn’t commercially sustainable. “It’s painful to talk about, Hannah,” Bernie says. “I know,” she replies, and they don’t go deeper. But that failure taught them what they’re building now. The developer partnership model exists because going it alone in expensive central London didn’t work. The stakes are clearer when you understand what failure looks like. If ground floors stay empty—which they are across the UK—high streets die. Mum-and-pop businesses can’t afford business rates or twenty-year leases. US private equity buys up chains, loads them with debt, and only institutional money can survive. The neighbourhood loses the bakery, the dry cleaner, and the antique shop. Meanwhile, new residential buildings keep getting built. Someone will decide what goes on those ground floors. If operators don’t partner with developers, it’ll be another Tesco Metro, or the space will sit empty. In Tottenham, ARC received backing from Haringey Council’s Opportunity Workspace Fund. The social value metrics aren’t marketing fluff—they’re contractual obligations embedded deep in the business plan. Hannah describes ARC as a platform for local organisations already doing brilliant work in the neighbourhood, not a service provider helicoptering in with programmes nobody asked for. The three current ARC clubs—Earlsfield in southwest London, Stratford in East London, and Tottenham in North London—operate identically in format but differ significantly in practice. Hannah admits this was humbling. Even with similar member profiles, people's preferences for how to use space vary widely. This isn’t a business plan you can copy and paste. What Bernie and Hannah both recognise is that the best neighbourhood coworking spaces become what Hannah calls “your other local”—the gym, the pub, the place you buy bread. Where accidental interaction happens. Where you might not speak to anyone all morning, the presence of other people doing focused work mitigates the loneliness of working by yourself at home. Hannah calls it “small c connection,” and it’s the majority of what happens at ARC. Not events. Not networking. Just being around colleagues—even if they’re working on different things. The sense of being seen without forced interaction. For operators wondering whether neighbourhood coworking is viable, Hannah offers pragmatic hope. Work with forward-thinking developers. Be clear about what you can and can’t do. Acknowledge commercial imperatives without compromising your social mission. Be a platform, not a service provider. And most importantly: learn from what doesn’t work. The central London failure matters as much as the Tottenham success. Timeline Highlights [00:04] Bernie introduces the tension: “The commute and being a neighbourhood workspace... one size does not fit all.” [01:37] Hannah on ARC’s mission: “We deliver in partnership with new residential developers to open spaces that make working life more calm, more local, more human.” [02:13] “We go to the neighbourhoods where people are doing exciting things... We can be a place that’s potentially a catalyst for positive change.” [03:07] The pre-COVID origin: “We wanted to create somewhere that would sit between a draining commute or working at the kitchen table, and that would support focus.” [04:50] On mitigating loneliness: “Doing that among other people really helps... You could just be coming in and just being around my colleagues versus sitting at home by myself.” [06:40] The “other local” concept: “ARC [is] your other local... where accidental interaction happens... the majority of connection is this small c connection.” [07:26] Tottenham partnership approach: “We’re working with the council to actually connect with people who are already doing fantastic work in the neighbourhood... We can just be a space for them.” [08:26] The platform principle: “We’re not a service provider beyond being a great space... I think we’re a platform, and that’s key.” [09:27] Mixing communities: “We want to be a diverse hub... a mix of an existing community and new people... ensuring that these new buildings are also delivering social value for everyone in the local area.” [10:41] UK development reality: “The economics of residential development in the UK are really, really challenging... Construction costs have massively risen... The risks have gone way up.” [13:46] Commercial pragmatism: “We can help [developers] realise their commercial outcomes by putting something just brilliant and useful on the ground floor.” [15:28] The opportunity: “We spotted an opportunity in the huge number of empty ground floor retail spaces in the UK.” [17:30] Beyond transaction: “It’s more than just a transactional amenity... there’s an intangible value that’s not just about a desk.” [22:19] Embedded metrics: “In ARC Tottenham... embedded really deep in our business plan are the social value metrics that we absolutely have to deliver.” [26:32] The painful acknowledgement: Bernie asks about the central London hub—” It’s painful to talk about, Hannah.” “I know.” [32:07] Local variation: “The way that people want to use space is just totally different in those areas... There isn’t that one-size-fits-all at all.” The Economics Nobody Mentions (And What Happens If We Get This Wrong) House building in the UK has stalled. Construction costs have risen. Developer risk has multiplied. Hannah names what most operators dance around: developers need to make money, or they won’t build anything at all. Feeling sorry for developers isn’t the point. Understanding their commercial drivers is how you get into those buildings to do something useful. But here’s what’s at stake if operators don’t solve this problem. Empty ground floors kill high streets. Walk through any British town centre and count how many retail units sit vacant. The mum-and-pop bakery can’t afford business rates—essentially, property tax that UK commercial tenants pay, which can run £20,000-£50,000 annually for a small ground-floor unit. Landlords want twenty-year leases because their buildings are leveraged with institutional debt. Only chains backed by private equity can afford the risk. Hannah mentions this: US private equity money has bought up well-known chains, loaded them with debt, and now they’re the only businesses that can pay the rates. The local dry cleaner, antique shop, and independent café—they’re priced out of the market. Meanwhile, new residential buildings keep getting constructed. Someone will decide what goes on those ground floors. If it’s not thoughtful operators partnering with developers, it’ll be another Tesco Metro serving residents who move in and never meet their neighbours. Or the space sits empty, the building feels dead, and the neighbourhood loses what Bernie calls an “activation point.” This is where ARC’s model becomes interesting. They’re not asking developers to be charitable. They’re offering a solution to a problem developers alrea

36 min
FEB 17

Ireland's Coworking Revolution and Who Actually Benefits with Graham Clarke

Episode Summary “We seem to be out front with this when it comes to, I suppose, government support at a national level of coworking as an industry.” Graham Clarke Tired of running yourself into the ground? Then stop running alone. On February 24th, the London Coworking Assembly presents Unreasonable Connection Goes Live!—a one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive. It’s a day to share the load, find real solutions, and build a new playbook, together. Graham Clarke didn’t set out to wire an entire country for coworking. He was a community manager in a space in Ireland, burnt out from running events just to hit KPIs, when the Western Development Commission approached Baseworx with a question: Could a single booking system connect over 100 rural hubs? That was 2018. Now it’s 407 locations. For-profit, not-for-profit, social enterprises, and major operators—all on one platform. You can land at Dublin Airport, hit “near me,” book a hot desk in Skibbereen, and get a pin code sent to your phone before you leave the terminal. If the hub has integrated access control, you can walk in and start working without speaking to anyone. But the real story isn’t the technology. It’s what happened when hub managers across Ireland started talking to each other once a month. When they realised they could pool their buying power to negotiate better deals on EV chargers. When a digital nomad could extend their holiday because they found a desk 30 minutes from the beach. Graham has seen both sides: the operator trying to keep the lights on, and the software builder trying to automate the boring bits so operators can focus on the human work. In this conversation with Bernie, they explore the economics of who pays for coworking (the bootstrapper vs. the corporate remote worker), the “golf clubification” thesis (what if coworking memberships were curated like BNI chapters?), and why the best thing software can do is act as “guard rails” to prevent community manager burnout. This episode is for anyone who thinks coworking is just about desks and WiFi. Graham and Bernie talk about Ireland’s post-crash entrepreneurial mindset, the housing crisis threatening the “brain gain” success, and why proximity still matters when your members could work from anywhere. Timeline Highlights [02:55] Bernie asks Graham to explain Connected Hubs: “That’s revolutionary” [03:24] Graham on Ireland’s lead: “We seem to be out front with this when it comes to, I suppose, government support at a national level of coworking as an industry.” [04:58] The three pillars of Connected Hubs: “A team to run it... capital funding to upgrade... a standardised booking engine.” [06:23] Graham on the national event calendar and economic impact: “I think it’s after contributing, as of last year, 1.6 billion to the economy in its current structure.” [09:58] The collaborative culture: “Once a month, there’s an open call, and they have a dedicated community manager who gets all the hub managers together.” [10:23] Group buying power in action: “They were able to sit down and compare notes, and actually collaborate and say, Right, if we wait 10 of them off you, what can you do as a deal on?” [14:28] Ireland’s startup support system: “Every county council has its own local enterprise office.” [16:00] The runway advantage: “If you’re a startup that can do business globally and you don’t need to be paying Dublin rent, then that absolutely has an effect on your runway as well.” [20:56] Graham’s “golf clubification” thesis: “Is there an opportunity to have a coworking space where you have one person from one space or one industry... it’s, I don’t want to say exclusive, but it is like you’re voted in” [24:23] Bernie on intentional business groups: “When you sit down with a group of fellow business people with intention and vulnerability and openness and trust, it all moves faster.” [26:56] The directory solution: “That’s why I think it’s important to have a directory anyway in your coworking space.” [29:14] The demographic shift: “I would contest that that may not be the same today because the audience and the user type of coworking space has shifted, where you have more employees of larger businesses now.” [33:09] The critical hire: “One of the most important people you can have in your coworking business is a good community manager.” [34:42] Software as protection: “If you can get all that stuff automated and worked out, you can leave them in the community management place.” Connected Hubs: When Booking Becomes Infrastructure Bernie called it revolutionary. He’s right. But to understand why, you have to understand what the Western Development Commission was actually solving for. The West Coast of Ireland wasn’t just losing young people to Dublin. It was experiencing decades of structural abandonment—the legacy of an economy that concentrated wealth and opportunity in urban centres whilst rural areas managed decline. When the 2008 crash hit, multinationals laid off skilled workers who would have historically emigrated to London or Boston. This time, the Irish government tried something different. The WDC identified over 200 spaces suitable for knowledge workers. Enterprise centres. Community halls. Dated business centres that needed upgrading but had good bones. Their research said you need three things: A team to run it. Capital funding to bring spaces up to modern standards. A standardised booking system. Baseworx became that third pillar. Now there are 407 locations. Graham clarifies: “All of the different, I suppose, entity types and for-profit, not-for-profit, social enterprises, and even some of the larger well-known operators, all on one system.” This isn’t just Airbnb for coworking. It’s post-austerity infrastructure. It’s what happens when a government treats remote work as a regional development policy, not a tech perk. You can book a hot desk, a meeting room, or an office. Depending on the hub’s access control setup, you might receive a QR code or a PIN on your phone. You sell the service yourself. But the system also powers community infrastructure: event calendars, blogs, a collaborative news board. By default, Ireland now has a national coworking event calendar. You can see what’s happening in every corner of the country. The economic case is measurable: independent economists estimated the project contributed €1.6 billion to the Irish economy as of 2024. Graham talks about the human side, though. Extended holidays. Working near home. Choosing to stay in the village instead of moving to the city. The Collaborative Culture That Makes It Work Picture this: It’s a Tuesday morning. You’re a hub manager in rural Ireland. Your WiFi’s been dodgy. Your biggest member just left. You’re trying to decide whether to invest in an EV charger but you’ve never bought one before and the quotes you’re getting range from €3,000 to €12,000. You’re alone with this. Except you’re not. Most coworking networks are competitive. Connected Hubs is collaborative. Once a month, an open call brings hub managers together. They share what’s working. They talk about what failed. They compare notes. Graham tells the EV charger story. EV chargers were new. Quotes varied wildly. Hub managers were getting different prices, different recommendations, no clear sense of what they actually needed. “They were able to sit down and compare notes, and actually collaborate and say, Right, if we wait 10 of them off you, what can you do as a deal on?” Group buying power. Collective intelligence. Practical cost savings for operators who are usually cost-conscious and under-resourced. This is the infrastructure underneath the infrastructure. The booking system connects the spaces. The monthly calls connect the people running them. Bernie picks up on this: it’s not just about efficiency. It’s about preventing the isolation and burnout that kills independent operators. When you’re running a space on your own, the loneliness is structural. Connected Hubs makes it social. Ireland’s Post-Crash Entrepreneurial Ecosystem Graham grew up during the Celtic Tiger. Everyone was doing well. Then the crash happened. But Ireland had something most countries don’t: free third-level education (with some registration fees, but “quite attainable”). Multinationals had laid people off. Those people were skilled, educated, and stuck. Historically, they would have left for the UK or the US. This time, they stayed. “You know what? I could do this better than the company I was working for.” That mindset—combined with strong startup support—built the ecosystem Graham now operates in. Every county council has a local enterprise office. If you’re starting a business in Ireland today, your first stop is the local enterprise office or Enterprise Ireland. There’s a “well-worn path” with advisors, resources, and funding. Graham’s point: “You mix an entrepreneurial mindset with 400 coworking hubs.” If you’re building a startup that can do business globally, you don’t need to pay Dublin rent. Your runway extends. Your burn rate drops. You can survive longer. The Connected Hubs project didn’t just provide desks. It removed one of the biggest barriers to rural entrepreneurship: professional workspace. The Success Trap: When the Hub Works Too Well But there’s a shadow to the success story. Skibbereen, where Graham’s Ludgate Hub operates, is now a digital capital. It has world-class 1GB fibre. It attracts returners like Graham, who moved from Galway during COVID. It hosts remote workers for multinationals. The hub worked. The housing didn’t keep up. The guest research document surfacing in the background of this conversation tells a diffe

38 min
FEB 12

What Hospitality Actually Costs with Ian Minor

“Hospitality is the art of being hospitable.” Ian Minor Tired of running yourself into the ground? Then stop running alone. On February 24th, the London Coworking Assembly presents Unreasonable Connection Goes Live!—a one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive. It’s a day to share the load, find real solutions, and build a new playbook, together. Hospitality has become one of those words shouted from every coworking LinkedIn post, usually next to a photo of a nice coffee machine. But Ian Minor has spent 30 years in actual hospitality—nightclubs, bars, restaurants, and health clubs across three continents. The kind with burns, late nights, and a ruthless feedback loop where if the vibe dies, the room empties. He created Working From_ for The Hoxton. He’s a partner at Brave Corporation with Caleb Parker. He’s rethought everything from what you call your front desk staff to how many times a day you should nod at a member in the corridor. This conversation strips away the Instagram aesthetic and answers the hard question: what does hospitality actually cost when you’ve got two staff and a hundred members? This episode is for operators who know “hospitality” matters but aren’t sure what they’re supposed to do about it with limited resources. Timeline Highlights [02:53] Ian’s definition: “Hospitality is the art of being hospitable.” [03:37] “You’re going for an experience within hospitality, and that’s the thing that you’re really delivering. The food and the drink, for me, are part of the product, but they’re not the main thing.” [06:03] What an experience actually is: “Trying to make something that’s personal to that customer.” [07:28] The reputation multiplier: “That starts to build a reputation that has come from the experience or the service that they’ve been given... which was more than what they were expecting” [10:20] Going above and beyond: “If you always go above and beyond what is expected, you’re always going to deliver a lot more than what they even wanted, but they’ll always remember it.” [15:19] The critical question for operators: “What level of hospitality can they comfortably give with the current operation they have, and what do they aspire to give?” [16:54] The language shift: “I changed from reception to host. I’ve always called that department the Host Team.” [21:52] The test: “The human connection that you’re driving or you’re trying to get to is what can define whether or not your hospitality or not.” [22:47] Restaurant staff costs: “Anything between, let’s say, 23 to 28% of revenue goes on staff salaries.” [24:06] Flexible workspace reality: “You could probably be down, and what I’ve seen from what I’ve done, between 9% to 11% staff cost against revenue.” [26:38] Where to start: “Understanding if they’ve got operational manuals written, if they’ve got standard operating procedures written, which are the SOPs.” [27:55] Why consistency matters: “This break in consistency is the worst thing that you can have in an operation because as a customer, you just don’t know what you’re actually getting from them.” [29:03] Mapping the member day: “What does their day look like and how many touch points... can I get a nod... or a quick one-minute chat along their day.” [31:07] The foundation: “The first point of hospitality is just making sure that the service is consistent at the very basic level.” [32:34] The final instruction: “Just think about what you can deliver and then just try and deliver that consistently at a high level and then a higher level as much as you possibly can.” The Kitchen Confidential of the Workspace Ian Minor doesn’t come from the world of serviced offices or real estate. He comes from nightclubs. Bars. Restaurants. Health clubs. Late-night operations across three continents. In that world, the feedback loop is immediate and brutal. If the vibe is wrong, the room empties. If the ice runs out, if the security is too aggressive, if the lighting is too harsh—revenue collapses that night. There are no five-year leases to hide behind. Bernie captures it perfectly: “If you’ve ever worked in hospitality, there’s like grind, hard work, blood, sweat, and tears and a lot of burns and cuts from doing it.” When coworking spaces started shouting “hospitality!” around 2020, Ian saw a gap. The sophisticated consumer—used to the high-touch service of a Soho House or a boutique hotel—was being forced into sterile, fluorescent-lit serviced offices with receptionists who barely looked up. He realised the skills of the nightclub operator—lighting, sound, service speed, emotional connection—were exactly what the office market lacked. So he brought them over. What Hospitality Actually Means Bernie asks directly: “If someone bumped into you in Liverpool Street Station and said, What’s hospitality? What would you say?” Ian’s answer is deceptively simple: “Hospitality is the art of being hospitable.” But he immediately adds layers. It’s not about the product. It’s about the experience. “You’re going for an experience within hospitality, and that’s the thing that you’re really delivering. The food and the drink, for me, are part of the product, but they’re not the main thing.” Bernie illustrates this with his own example—a taco place in Vigo. It looks like a greasy spoon. It’s chaotic. The guy behind the counter is shouting. But the food is brilliant, and they walk 20 minutes in the rain on Sunday nights to go there. That’s hospitality. Not designed. Not Instagram-ready. But felt. Ian explains what makes it work: “It’s understanding or taking cues from the individual that’s gone in there or the couple that has gone in there... trying to learn a little bit about them... then seeing what little added things that you can do during the course of that sitting to make it extra special.” The test: when they leave, are they still talking about it weeks later? If yes, you’ve created an experience. If no, you’ve just completed a transaction. The Motivation Question Bernie presses on with motivation. Is it about making someone’s day, or is it about making them come back? Ian cuts straight to it: both are true, but the driver should be love. He talks about a moment from his own career—serving a couple who used to come into a bar at Lakeside Shopping Centre. They ordered a margarita with no salt and a Corona. Three years later, they walked into the Covent Garden branch where Bernie was working. He just put their drinks in front of them without saying a word. They were stunned. “How did you know?” Bernie got a real kick out of that moment—not because it guaranteed loyalty, but because it was a random act of care. Ian: “You can do this in any walk of life. You can engage with life or not engage with life. If you engage with it, you’re always going to get better and reach your experiences from that.” If you always go above and beyond what is expected, you’re always going to deliver a lot more than what they even wanted, but they’ll always remember it. Yes, this might lead to a good tip or repeat business. But the deeper reward is personal. “You’re going home from your shift or your night’s work or your day’s work, knowing that for those 8 hours or 10 hours, you did the best that you could do in that period of time, and you can go home happy.” Positivity compounds. Good service makes the server feel good, which makes the guest feel good, which makes the server feel good. Ian calls it living in a “Zen way of life.” Why We’re “Suddenly” in the Hospitality Business Bernie asks the question every coworking operator has wondered: How did we end up in the hospitality business? Three years ago, weren’t we just renting desks? Ian’s answer is sharp. “I think it needs to sit somewhere in some industry.” Flexible workspace didn’t have a natural home. It wasn’t real estate. It wasn’t office management. It wasn’t pure hospitality either. But “hospitality” became the positioning because it helps people understand they need to give more than they have been used to giving in the past. It’s a signal. A cue. “When you say hospitality... I think it’s purely from a positional point of view so that it helps people understand that they need to perhaps give more than what they have been used to giving in the past.” The danger is when people hear “hospitality” and think it means buying expensive furniture and hiring a barista. Ian’s version is different. It’s about the depth of service. Touch points. Consistency. Emotional intelligence. Not Instagram. Operations. The Language You Use Shapes the Service You Give One of Ian’s most practical moves: changing job titles. He doesn’t call the front desk team “Reception.” He calls them the “Host Team.” Why does this matter? “Reception” describes a location. It implies the person won’t move beyond that point. They answer phones. They greet people at the door. That’s it. “Host” describes a role. It implies they move through the building. They engage with members throughout their day. They go deeper. Ian explains: “By creating the terminology change, you can then put in a deeper layer of service to define that role and that position, that operational department better.” The question becomes: how many touchpoints occur during a member’s day? In a restaurant, there are dozens. The concierge. The server. The sommelier. The person who clears the plates. The person who delivers the bill. Each is a chance to add care. In a coworking space with a single reception desk, how many touch points exist? Not many—unless you engineer them. Ian’s insight: The human connection you’re driving is what defines whether it

34 min
FEB 10

When a Community Finds Its Coworking Space with Lee Dalgleish

“We’re keeping people in Wigan, both in jobs, both in supply chain, young people not jumping on the train any longer to go in 30 minutes down the train track to Manchester or Liverpool. You don’t need to go outside of Wigan now. You can do everything in here.”Lee Dalgleish Tired of running yourself into the ground? Then stop running alone. *On February 24th, the London Coworking Assembly presents Unreasonable Connection Goes Live!—a one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive.* It’s a day to share the load, find real solutions, and build a new playbook, together. Lee Dalgleish fixes problems. Not the tidy, admin problems. The ones where young people leave town because there’s nothing for them. Where historic buildings rot because nobody knows how to bring them back. Where talent drains to bigger cities because local economies can’t retain it. He’s the Commercial Property Manager at The Heaton Group in Wigan. But that title doesn’t capture what he actually does. The Heaton Group bought Eckersley Mills in October 2021. Three massive mills from the late 1800s, right in the centre of Wigan, sitting between Manchester and Liverpool. The sort of place most people write off as too expensive, too complicated, too far gone. They renamed it Cotton Works. Then they started building something nobody expected. Three Mills Pub opened in May 2024. Four and a half thousand square feet with original slab stone flooring. The sort of character you can’t fake. Lee’s daughter manages it now. Feast at the Mills followed in October 2023. An outdoor food hall in the old weaving sheds. DJs, street food, families, dog walkers, and bottomless brunches. Over 2,000 people show up every weekend in summer. But here’s what matters. Cotton Works isn’t just hospitality. It’s a regeneration project built to stop the brain drain. Wigan Youth Zone sits at 35,000 square feet. The largest youth facility of its kind in Europe. Young people aged five to early twenties. Non-means-tested. Music studios, climbing frames, arts, life skills. Teaching kids how to use a washing machine and turn on a dishwasher alongside creative work. Lee’s the Chair of Development on the committee. The Youth Zone runs on patrons—local businesses that support financially and in-kind. IT companies, joiners, and electricians. Not just writing cheques. Doing the work. Then there’s Weave. The coworking space at Cotton Works. Hot desks, resident desks, offices. Built to keep Wigan’s young talent in Wigan. To stop the exodus to Manchester and Liverpool that costs the town billions. And the Friday Club. Second Friday of every month. Over 250 people. Free drink when you arrive. Business owners from Bolton, Warrington, St Helens. Doors that were slamming shut elsewhere stay open here. All the proceeds go to local charities. Team Wigan & Leigh. The Brick. Daffodils Dreams. Wigan & Leigh Hospice. The Youth Zone. This episode is for operators who’ve been told you need venture capital to make an impact. For anyone who thinks regeneration belongs to property developers with offshore accounts. Lee’s got a five-yard rule. Anyone within five yards who makes eye contact gets a hello. Sounds basic. But it’s how you build a town where people don’t just work. They stay. Timeline Highlights [02:00] Lee on what he’s known for: “Commercial Property Manager at the Heaton group, Wigan.” [02:29] What Lee wants to be known for: “If you’ve got a question enough, I can help you. Come to me. I’ll do my best to help you.” [03:38] Eckersley Mills purchased: “In October 2021, we purchased the Ecclesley site, which is now known today as Cotton Work.s” [04:56] Three Mills character: “It’s just got full of character... epitomises everything that we’re doing here... the restoration work, the respect that we’re paying to all these buildings.” [06:22] Keeping people in Wigan: “We’re keeping people in Wigan... You don’t need to go outside of Wigan now. You can do everything in here.” [07:54] Feast at the Mills: “We opened up that in October 2023... what we wanted to create is just people starting to come down to Cotton Works.” [10:21] Summer numbers: “In the summer months, we’re getting over 2000 people every weekend into the venue, and it’s just snowballed.” [12:09] Wigan Youth Zone scale: “Wigan Youthsown is the largest Uson of its kind in Europe. It’s 35,000 square feet.” [13:35] Youth Zone inclusivity: “It’s not means-tested, Bernie... there’s no way of distinguishing children or young adults when they walk in the building... it’s for everybody and anybody.” [16:29] Lee’s role: “I’m now Chair of Development within the committee... we bounce off each other, and we support each other.” [18:54] Weave’s purpose: “Weave is about community... It allows small businesses to organically come in... to collaborate with other like-minded professionals.” [21:23] Friday Club origin: “Come down on the second Friday of each month to three mills or to Feast at the Mills... you get a free drink... come and meet us.” [23:32] Friday Club impact: “People are coming up to me now saying... we’ve got clients based in Wigan that we’ve never, ever had before.” [27:03] Five-yard rule: “Everybody that’s within five yards of me, if they make eye contact with me, I’d know them and say hello to them.” [29:47] Where to connect: “I’m always here at Cotton Works. I’m based up in Wiv in the centre of Wigan. You can connect with me on LinkedIn.” What 2,000 People on a Weekend Actually Means Most coworking spaces spend years trying to build community. Cotton Works drew 2,000 people per weekend within months of opening Feast at the Mills. Bernie asked the obvious question. How? Lee’s answer is simpler than you’d think. They created a place where people wanted to be. Not just a venue with food and drink. A space where Doris and George bring their dog for a pint and listen to live music. Where Lee’s daughters turn up for bottomless brunch and DJs. Where families find activities for kids without feeling like they’re at a soft play centre with alcohol. “We’ve got dorming on the door, but I beg to differ whether or not we’re at the touch of what we ever need them because everybody comes in.” No security incidents. No trouble. Just people from across Wigan finding a reason to come down to the canal on a Friday night. This isn’t a hospitality strategy. It’s proof that when you build something the town actually needs, rather than what property developers think will maximise yield, people show up. Feast at the Mills opened in October 2023. Within a year, it became the place people from outside Wigan know about. “How do you know Wigan, Mitchell?” Bernie gets asked. “Feast at the Mills,” they say. That’s not marketing. That’s what happens when 2,000 people have a good time and tell their mates. The Patron Model That Funds a Youth Zone Wigan Youth Zone costs money to run. Serious money. 35,000 square feet. Staff, equipment, programmes. Music studios, climbing walls, life skills workshops. All of it non-means-tested, open to any young person aged five to early twenties across the entire Wigan borough. He recognised what he was seeing when Lee took him to the Youth Zone. A serious operation addressing serious problems. Not a cute community project. A facility doing the work most towns pretend doesn’t need doing. The funding model is patrons. Local businesses that support the Youth Zone financially and in-kind. Lee’s a patron. He’s also Chair of Development. That means constant outreach with Lindsay, the Head of Fundraising. Golf days, charity events, and the annual ball. But also practical support. “They don’t just give us financial increments for the duration of the year. They’ll come in, and we have electrical companies who’ll come in and take over all the electrical works and the safety and things like that. We’ll have a joinery company that’ll make things for us. We’ll have a guy who’s got an IT company, and he’s taking all the IT stuff off of them.” This is how you resource a 35,000-square-foot facility without council funding or lottery grants, so it doesn't collapse when priorities shift. You build relationships with businesses that see the direct line between a functioning Youth Zone and the town’s future workforce. Lee gets emotional talking about it. “If I fill up talking about it, you know how passionate I am about it.” The Heaton Group didn’t buy Eckersley Mills and then decide to support the Youth Zone as CSR. The Youth Zone was always part of what Cotton Works represents. Keep young people in Wigan. Give them skills. Create pathways into businesses like the ones operating out of Weave Coworking. Patrons fund the present. But they’re investing in Wigan’s ability to hold onto its own talent. When the Community Already Exists Bernie’s been saying it for months. Most coworking spaces are looking for community. Wigan is a community looking for a coworking space. Lee proves it. The Friday Club started as an idea from John, the MD at Heaton Group. He’d been running his own business since he was 16. On Fridays, he’d take the lads to the pub. Bit of a pat on the back. Couple of pints. When Cotton Works opened Three Mills and Feast at the Mills, they formalised it. Second Friday of every month. Free drink when you arrive. Come say hello. See what’s happening. They launched in May or June 2025. By summer, 250 people were showing up. “People are coming up to me now saying, Do you know what, Lee, with this Friday Club, we’re getting involved with Wigan now. We’ve got clients based in Wigan that we’ve never, ever had before. And all we did was turn up for a lager, had a bit of a packet of Chris and a drink and a bit of a

32 min
FEB 5

Audience, Community, or Village? The Framework for Real Connection with Rose Radtke

“Community is a really irritating word to me right now. We ask it to carry too much. Everything’s a community.” Rose Radtke Tired of running yourself into the ground? Then stop running alone. On February 24th, the London Coworking Assembly presents Unreasonable Connection Goes Live!—a one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive. It’s a day to share the load, find real solutions, and build a new playbook, together. Rose Radtke is a brand strategist, writer, and community manager. She positions herself as a “smart connector”—someone who finds the links between brand, community, and marketing. Six years deep in community building, she’s watched the word “community” stretch thinner each year. Everything became a community. Discord servers. Email lists. Substack comments. The word stopped meaning anything specific. Rose makes a distinction that matters. Audience, community, and village are not the same thing. One lets you lurk. One expects participation. One demands mutual care. Bernie and Rose unpack the framework. They move from COVID’s online community boom to the messy reality of engineering community in coworking spaces. Rose is watching 2026’s trends closely. Coworking spaces struggling to meet rent. Pricing strategies getting flexible—day blocks, modular memberships. The lines between workspace and third space blurring. Pop-up markets in coworking spaces. Coworking desks in bookshops and gyms. And she’s asking a question that hospitality venues should be terrified of: Why don’t they have community managers? This episode is for operators tired of using “community” to mean everything and nothing. It’s for anyone trying to work out whether they’re building an audience, a community, or a village—and what the difference actually means for the people who show up. Timeline Highlights [01:51] Rose describes herself: “I’m actually a bit of an octopus. I am a brand strategist, I am a writer, and I’m a community manager.” [02:12] What she wants to be known for: “Being a real connector, being someone that’s really smart and that connects people up in interesting ways.” [03:04] The frustration: “We ask it to carry too much. Everything’s a community. We want everything to be a community, and it just carries an awful, awful lot.” [04:49] The distinction: “Participation is optional. You can either be a lurker... but then you can fluidly move into being a participant.” [06:46] Village versus community: “In a village, there’s an expectation of care. You extend to each other and everyone has their part to play.” [08:49] COVID’s turning point: “Communities were lifelines for people in COVID. Most of those communities were online.” [11:31] Engineering community: “Your branding and your marketing and your community have to work as one for it to work.” [13:34] Bernie on his favourite spaces: “Started by people who are scratching their own edge.” [16:25] Rose on 2026 struggles: “Coworking spaces seem to be struggling a bit more this year... a shift towards more flexible memberships.” [19:46] The blurred lines: “The lines becoming blurred between work space and third space in coworking spaces.” [21:27] Multi-use strategy: “I want to create reasons for people to stay beyond their work day... and ways to make additional revenue.” [22:53] Hospitality insight: “I’m really interested in whether or why hospitality venues don’t have community managers. I feel like that’s madness.” [24:19] Multi-use excitement: “Really make it multi-use. That’s a really interesting and exciting space at the moment.” [26:38] The future is now: “Lines are being blurred in lots of areas, and I think spatially, that’s the case as well.” The Three-Type Framework Rose has been working in community for six years. She started through branding—branding communities, finding the work fascinating. Then the word stretched. “Over the last 6-8 years, we ask it to carry too much. Everything’s a community. We want everything to be a community, and it just carries an awful, awful lot.” She’s right. The word “community” used to mean something specific. Now it means anything a brand wants it to mean. Rose thinks we need to go back to basics. Stop calling everything a community. Work out what you’re actually running. An audience is passive. They consume what you produce. They might engage, but they don’t expect to be part of the thing. A community is fluid. Participation is optional. You can lurk. You can absorb what you’re reading, overhear conversations, eye things up. Then you can fluidly move into being a participant when you’re ready. No pressure. No expectation. A village is different. Everyone’s participation is needed. Everyone has a role. There’s an expectation of care. You extend care to each other. Even if your role is just taking your rubbish out on the right day, you have to participate. Rose thinks coworking sits somewhere between community and village, depending on how the space is designed. Some members want to get out of their house. Leave behind the mess and the half-eaten Rice Krispies. Work somewhere clean and tidy. Get their head down. Leave at the end of the day. Go home. That’s valid. Other people want to network. They want to go to a place where people know their name. They want to be part of the programme, learn stuff, be all in. That’s valid too. Both are community. But they’re not the same kind of community. Calling them both “community” without distinction makes the word useless. COVID Broke the Word COVID was a huge turning point. Community went online. It had to. Online communities became lifelines for people. They were essential, not optional. “We piled a lot on the word community during COVID,” Rose says. “That is where it all became a bit stretched and misshapen.” She’s not wrong. The word community used to imply something physical, something local, something you could walk to. COVID made it mean “any group of people who talk to each other online.” Online communities are just as important and valid as in-person communities. But they’re very different. The expectations are different. The rhythms are different. The care structures are different. We’ve never quite come back from that. The word “community” now has to work for both. It has to mean your local pub and your Discord server. Your coworking space and your Substack comments section. No wonder it’s irritating. Engineering Community in Coworking Rose makes a distinction that matters. Some coworking spaces start because someone needed a place to work. They had extra space. They built something around what they were doing. The Skiff in Brighton. Coworking Lisboa in Lisbon. Indy Hall. Other spaces start as a brand first. Someone decides to start a coworking space. They build the brand, then they build the community. Both can work. But they’re different. When you start as a brand, you have to engineer the community. Your branding, your marketing, and your community have to work as one. Otherwise, your community just isn’t going to happen. Rose thinks that’s fine. “Things change, times change, people change. If we just accept that that is what community is now in coworking, cool, that’s fine.” I’m not sure I agree. I think my favourite coworking spaces have been started by people who were scratching their own edge. People who needed something, so they built it. The community formed around their intention. But Rose is right that engineering community can work. It just requires a different kind of discipline. You can’t fake it. You can’t market your way into authentic connection. You have to build the conditions for it. Your space has to attract the people you want. Your brand has to signal clearly who this is for. Your community manager (if you have one) has to facilitate without forcing. The 2026 Pricing Puzzle Rose has noticed something. Coworking spaces seem to be struggling a bit more this year. There are indicators. More spaces offering flexibility. Lower hour memberships. Modular memberships. Day blocks instead of monthly commitments. Maybe it’s because people want more flexibility in their lives. They don’t want to be tied down. Or maybe spaces are struggling to make rent and they’re trying anything that might bring people through the door. Tom Ball at Desk Lodge has nailed the pricing. You can buy a block of days. If you go over those days, you can get a better deal on more days. It’s flexible, but it’s simple. Most spaces haven’t worked this out yet. They’ve got 57 different pricing options on their website. That exhausts the buyer. It exhausts the accounting system. It exhausts the space operator trying to manage it all. Rose thinks the trend is hybrid work meeting economic pressure. People work from home some days, coworking some days, client offices other days. Fixed monthly memberships don’t fit that pattern anymore. The spaces that survive will be the ones that make flexibility simple. The Blurred Lines Between Workspace and Third Space Rose is watching a trend that excites her. The lines are blurring between workspace and third space in coworking spaces. Spaces are becoming multi-use. At the weekend, they become a pop-up market or a supper club. They have a café open to the public. They host community events that draw people who aren’t members. Kemp Town Bookshop in Brighton just added a coworking option. You can pay for a desk for the day. You’re sitting in the café, surrounded by books. People come to a vintage flea market on Saturday and discover that the space also offers coworking. Boom, new member. David Lloyd gyms have been doing this for years. You can go to the gym, pay for two hours of childcare in their crèche, do some work upstairs, then have lunch

29 min
FEB 3

How Childcare Plus Coworking Becomes Social Infrastructure with Georgia Norton

“What concerns me most is this idea that we’re returning to the norms from before... when we tore down the walls between home and work and childcare.” Georgia Norton Tired of running yourself into the ground? Then stop running alone. On February 24th, the London Coworking Assembly presents Unreasonable Connection Goes Live!—a one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive. It’s a day to share the load, find real solutions, and build a new playbook, together. Georgia Norton spent spring 2024 interviewing founders, childcare workers, and parents across co-located childcare and coworking spaces. What she documented wasn’t a pandemic oddity for affluent families. It was a structural shift in how people want to arrange work and care. The report, “The Case for Childcare plus coworking,” argues that these spaces should be treated as essential social infrastructure, not premium amenities. Georgia calls it social infrastructure because that’s what it functions as: * Places where work happens alongside childcare * Where childcare workers gain professional development opportunities shoulder to shoulder with laptop workers * Where bridges get built between people who’d never otherwise meet But Georgia’s facing pushback from two contradictory directions. Front one: This is elitist. How could this ever be universal childcare? The spaces look too nice, too intentional about natural light and materials. Front two: Not everyone wants work and care integrated. Some people prefer separation, long commutes, and wrap-around daycare. Both critiques miss what Georgia is actually arguing. She’s not trying to universalise a single model. She’s pointing out that thousands of families restructured their lives during the pandemic and don’t want to return to the way things were. They’ve tasted something different—messy, overlapping, human—and the old binary (office or home, parent or professional, boss or employee) feels like a lie. The teens who kept wearing sliders and pyjama pants to school after lockdown? That’s the same cultural shift. We loosened our grip on “how things are supposed to be” and got more realistic about what actually matters. Georgia names fixable barriers: * Licensing rules that block grant access * Outdated funding structures * The assumption that childcare innovation requires private equity backing She’s taking these findings to the House of Lords in June. She’s exploring intergenerational models that integrate eldercare alongside childcare. Her next horizon isn’t scaling Playhood into a chain—it’s asking smarter policy questions about how to fund site-specific, adaptive models that serve neighbourhoods. This episode is for: Space operators are wondering if childcare integration makes sense. Parents who’ve felt the guilt of separation and want to explore alternatives. Anyone asking whether coworking can do more than rent desks—whether it can actually function as civic infrastructure that builds bridges across differences. ⏱ Timeline Highlights [02:07] What Georgia wants to be known for: “Making an impact... putting that report to work to help inspire entrepreneurs, to defend the childcare workforce.” [03:34] The provocative question that drove the report: “So many people wanted this... Why aren’t we funding models to pilot this?” [04:56] Why the report’s lens was American: “I’m sitting on more of a global picture.” [05:53] The tension Georgia feels most: “What concerns me most is this idea that we’re returning to the norms from before.” [09:10] On loosening standards: “We all loosened our standards... But I think we just got more realistic about, let’s not waste any time on that separation.” [10:20] The power of bridges: “We need bridges to other people... not binary employee versus boss, teacher versus parent.” [11:11] What the pandemic revealed: “The pandemic let us see childcare workers as key workers... We should hold on to models that integrate with families.” [14:03] The contradictory feedback: “Two key pieces of feedback contradict one another—how is this equitable? And also, this isn’t for everyone.” [15:21] On not dismissing the model: “If there’s a model here that could work in other neighbourhoods, we’ve got to look at smarter ways of funding.” [16:48] Georgia on fixable problems: “The barriers to making this more accessible—things like you can’t get grants without the licensing. Really old-fashioned things that get in the way. Fixable problems. I like those.” [17:42] Why childcare changes everything: “When you add or integrate with a childcare offering... there’s something next level going on.” [19:11] The workforce development story: “One of the strongest stories... is the workforce development that occurs here.” [24:09] On species needs: “Openness, open-heartedness and open-mindedness to being around other people is absolutely critical to our social cohesion right now.” [26:30] Small solutions matter: “Microschools, micro-nurseries with coworking show you don’t need the private equity-backed chain—there have to be entrepreneurs trying things out.” [27:56] What adaptive means: “We need to be site-specific and grow and adapt to meet each other’s needs... potentially even go into the House of Lords in June to share policy ideas.” The Two-Front Fight Georgia’s fighting two battles at once. And they contradict each other completely. Front one: This is elitist. How could this ever be universal childcare? The spaces she profiled look gorgeous. Full of plants, natural light, and intentional materials. People see that and assume expensive, inaccessible, designed for the 2.5% with disposable income. Georgia pushes back hard: “It’s really sad to me that people assume we can’t all have nice things.” Why should designing for human thriving automatically signal exclusivity? Front two: Not everyone wants this. Loads of parents are perfectly happy with the separation between work and care. They want to commute, drop off, access wrap-around daycare, and keep the worlds distinct. Georgia’s not arguing against that choice. She’s arguing against the assumption that integrated models shouldn’t exist because some people prefer separation. The contradiction exposes the real problem. We’ve built a system where innovation in childcare is assumed to be the preserve of premium membership models. And simultaneously, we’ve normalised the idea that “for everyone” means erasing specificity and choice. Georgia’s not trying to universalise one model. She’s documenting what happens when you give families actual options—and then asking why we’re not funding more experimentation. The answer involves fixable barriers like licensing and grant eligibility, not inherent inaccessibility. What the Pandemic Actually Taught Us Some people untethered completely after the pandemic. Sold everything, joined travelling villages with six other families, became world-schoolers. That’s the extreme version. But thousands more made smaller, lasting changes. They recalibrated. Decided work isn’t fixed to a location. Stopped pretending that being a parent and being a professional are separate identities you swap between. Georgia keeps coming back to this: “What concerns me most is this idea that we’re returning to the norms from before.” The norms are: * Work happens at the office * Childcare happens somewhere else * You commute between identities Teens in sliders and pyjama pants kept challenging that at school. Parents working from neighbourhood cafés with prams parked nearby kept challenging it. Coworking spaces with nurseries next door kept challenging it. The dominant culture for so long said there’s a way to show up to work. A way to be a boss. A way to be a parent. The pandemic tore those walls down. And lots of people haven’t rebuilt them. The settings Georgia profiled were founded by people who experienced that shift and decided to build something that reflects it. The question now: do we dismiss these as pandemic oddities, or do we get serious about funding models that serve the families who’ve moved on? Bridges Not Binaries There’s a sociologist Georgia references (the name escapes her mid-conversation, but the framework sticks): bonds versus bridges. Bonds are the logical connections. Your next-door neighbour, your family member, and people you went to school with. You’re already in each other’s lives for clear reasons. Bridges are what coworking uniquely provides. You’re sitting with people who didn’t grow up like you, don’t do the work you do, and don’t share your background. But you’re in the same space. Empathy grows. You become reciprocal. You support one another. When you add childcare workers into that mix—working shoulder to shoulder with parents, freelancers, remote workers—something shifts. The binary breaks. It’s not employee versus boss anymore. Not teacher versus parent. Not “them” taking care of “my” child while “I” do “real” work. Co-location makes care visible as work. It puts the people doing that work in proximity to others doing different work. The threshold gets crossed. Childcare workers use the desk space on breaks, after shifts, weekends, to get qualifications, do training, look for new roles. Georgia found consistent stories of respectful working conditions and better remuneration in co-located settings. The childcare workforce is overwhelmingly female, often shockingly devalued with minimum wage or agency contracts. But when those workers are on-site, seen, and respected as colleagues in a shared space, things change. This is infrastructure work. Not programming events or mandatory icebreakers. Just conditions for bridges where walls used to be. The Workforce Development Story Nobody’s T

32 min
JAN 29

How the 10-Minute City Creates Freedom with Szilvia Filep

“If freelancing is the future of work, then coworking is the future workplace.” Szilvia Filep Tired of running yourself into the ground? Then stop running alone. On February 24th, the London Coworking Assembly presents Unreasonable Connection Goes Live!—a one-day working session for the people running London’s most vital neighbourhood spaces and the public sector allies working to help them thrive. It’s a day to share the load, find real solutions, and build a new playbook, together. Ten years ago, Szilvia Filep quit her multinational job in Budapest because they wouldn’t let her work remotely. Back in 2016, that decision meant becoming a freelancer when Hungarian society viewed freelancing as code for “can’t get a proper job.” It meant moving from the capital to Veszprém—a countryside city—with her husband and young daughter. It meant choosing time over salary, proximity over prestige, freedom over the illusion of security. Today, Szilvia runs the Hungarian Coworking Association, operates a coworking space in Veszprém, and serves as Communications Manager for Coworking Europe. Everything she needs—her kids’ school, her coworking space, the city centre, supermarket, her mother-in-law for childcare—sits within a 10-minute walk from her front door. She calls it her “10-minute city.” Where Paris has Professor Carlos Moreno’s ambitious 15-minute city vision, Szilvia built her own version through strategic decisions about where to live, what to prioritise, and how to structure work around life instead of life around work. The contrast with her previous existence is stark. One to one-and-a-half hours each way in Budapest traffic. Now? She chooses how to spend that reclaimed time. Not stuck in traffic jams. Not at the mercy of delayed trains. Freedom to prepare for her day on her own terms. But here’s what matters for you as a coworking operator: Szilvia’s journey from corporate employee to freelancer to association founder mirrors the transformation happening across Europe right now. What seemed risky in 2016—outcome-based work, autonomy, side projects, choosing flexibility—has become mainstream. In Hungary, the average person under 35 now spends just two years at one company. The future Szilvia bet on has arrived. And if freelancing truly is the future of work, then coworking genuinely is the future workplace. Not because of hot desks or good coffee. Because people working flexibly still need human contact. They need spaces designed around connection, not just productivity. They need to know they’re not alone “slogging it out” trying to make WordPress work or deciding whether to invoice before or after completing the work. Szilvia’s experience in smaller cities reveals something corporate chains can’t replicate: 60% of her coworking members joined when the space opened two-and-a-half years ago and are still there. That loyalty stems from limited options, yes—but more powerfully, from genuine belonging. In smaller towns, you run into each other outside the space. The connections run deeper. The community isn’t strategic; it’s real. This episode is for operators building local coworking spaces, running regional associations, or wondering whether European Coworking Day matters beyond marketing. Szilvia shows how grassroots movements gain credibility through continental connection whilst maintaining fierce local loyalty. You’ll leave understanding how to design a life that actually fits your values, why freelancing skills translate directly to coworking operations, and how European Coworking Day on 6th May gives your local work the visibility it deserves. Timeline Highlights [00:04] Bernie announces European Coworking Day is on the sixth of May [01:26] Szilvia introduces herself: founder of Coworking Hungary Association, runs a space in Veszprém, recently joined Coworking Europe conference team [02:07] Coworking Europe 2026 will be in Paris on sixth of November [02:39] “I’ve created my life, my basic needs in a way that everything is just 10 minutes walk from my home” [04:52] On reclaimed commute time: “It’s freedom” [08:34] The brave 2016 decision: “I had to quit. That was the time when I became a freelancer to be able to create the life I wanted to live” [11:49] Essential freelancing skills: “Creativity... you have to be quite brave... good in marketing and pretty much in sales... personal branding... Very, very thoughtful on financials” [13:54] Szilvia’s realisation: “It’s just the future of work” [16:38] On selling outcomes: “It’s not the time what you sell, but it’s the results what you sell” [17:57] Job tenure in Hungary: “The average time a younger person under 35 years spends at one company is two years” [21:03] The defining quote: “If freelancing is the future of work, then coworking is the future workplace” [22:38] Why European Coworking Day matters: “This gives an extra credibility and visibility to the things that we do here in Hungary” [25:21] On loyalty in smaller cities: “60% of the coworkers who are currently using the space, joined at the very beginning when we opened the space two and a half year ago” [29:59] Bernie’s reminder: “Collaboration over competition” The 10-Minute City You Can Build Today You don’t need municipal permission to create a 10-minute city. Szilvia designed hers through decisions: choosing Veszprém over Budapest, paying more for a flat near the city centre instead of cheaper suburbs, opening her coworking space within walking distance of her home. The trade-off was clear. Living centrally costs more. But the return—time, autonomy, presence with her children—proved worth every forint. Before moving, Szilvia and her husband sat down and asked: “How do we want to lead our family life together?” Both had spent their childhoods travelling to school in different cities. Both commuted 30-40 minutes one way to university in Budapest. Both wanted something different for their kids and themselves. What makes this relevant for coworking operators? Your members face the same calculation. They’re weighing commute time against flexibility, corporate salaries against autonomy, prestige against presence. The operators who understand this friction—who position their spaces as infrastructure for freedom, not just desks for rent—win the loyalty Szilvia describes. Sixty per cent retention over two-and-a-half years doesn’t happen by accident. It happens when your space solves a life design problem, not just a workspace problem. When “Freelancer” Meant “Unemployed” In 2016, telling people in Hungary you were a freelancer translated roughly to: “I can’t get a proper job.” Szilvia heard it constantly. “Poor freelancers, it’s how hard for them to get a job, how it’s just not stable, it’s just unpredictable. It’s unsafe financially.” She could count on her hands how many people she knew doing the same work. So she organised a freelance conference. She ran events for freelancers to meet and learn from each other. She told everyone she could about this emerging way of working. Ten years later, the world has caught up. Remote work. Outcome-based projects. Side gigs. Portfolio careers. These aren’t fringe anymore—they’re how most knowledge workers operate, whether officially freelance or not. But here’s the insight that matters: the skills Szilvia needed to succeed as a freelancer in 2016 are exactly the skills coworking operators need today. Creativity. Courage. Marketing yourself (or your space). Sales and personal branding. And critically—being “very, very thoughtful on financials.” If you can’t plan for income volatility, freelancing becomes genuinely precarious. If you can’t market your value, you struggle to fill your pipeline. If you’re not brave enough to make unconventional choices, you default to copying what others do. Szilvia’s freelance foundation prepared her perfectly for coworking operations. Both require building community from scratch, explaining a concept people don’t yet understand, and staying financially resilient through uncertainty. The Future of Work Has Arrived Szilvia saw it coming in 2016. She researched freelancing, trying to understand where it fit on “the map of the world of work.” Her conclusion: “It’s nothing extraordinary. It’s just the future of work.” How people worked as freelancers in 2015 is how most people work in 2026. Remotely. With autonomy over their schedules. Selling results, not time. Managing multiple projects or clients. Doing side gigs alongside main employment. In Hungary, Bernie notes that COVID revealed how fragile employment security really is. The “job for life” their parents’ generation expected simply doesn’t exist. Under-35s switch companies every two years—essentially living project-based careers even within traditional employment. This transformation changes what coworking needs to provide. It’s not about replicating corporate offices. It’s not about professional addresses or meeting rooms. It’s about solving the core freelancing problem: isolation. As Szilvia puts it, home office “turned out it’s also not enough because you don’t have the interaction with people and that has a negative impact on creativity, cooperation, and many, many other things.” The solution? Flexibility and the idea of coworking. Multi-purpose community hubs where work happens but community forms. Spaces that fit into daily life—Hector’s “ecosystem” insight—rather than requiring members to build their lives around the space. If freelancing is genuinely the future of work, your coworking space isn’t competing with WeWork. You’re building civic infrastructure for how humans will work for the next fifty years. Why European Coworking Day Isn’t Just Marketing Every May 6th, coworking spaces across Europe open their doors for European Cowor

30 min

Welcome to Coworking Values the podcast of the European Coworking Assembly. Each week we deep dive into one of the values of accessibility, community, openness, collaboration and sustainability. Listen in to learn how these values can make or break Coworking culture. coworkingvaluespodcast.substack.com

Creator

Bernie J Mitchell
Years Active

2019 - 2026
Episodes

253
Rating

Clean
Copyright

© Coworking Values Podcast / London Coworking Assembly
Show Website

Coworking Values Podcast