James York is a member of the Beaconsfield Conservative Association and a policymaker in the insurance industry.
It is poignant to think that in 2006, four years before its now lost 14-year reign, the Conservative Party changed its logo from the Freedom Torch to what Tim Montgomerie called the “really ugly smudge” of the Union Oak Tree.
However, an oak has so many analogous merits – Acorns and oak forests. Succession and endowment. It’s worth reminding ourselves – when the party faces an historic demographic shift – how party strategy could be steered by it. Perhaps that Union Oak points us towards a powerful reboot that’s been staring everyone in the face – the Con Club.
Digress with me, because entombed at St Paul’s Cathedral there lies a remarkable man, Admiral Curthbert Collingwood. A man of service who led one of the British divisions of ships at Trafalgar. None could deny his every sinew ran with patriot-lined veins – it was so much so that, on his death, he asked that his body not be given pomp and celebration – but instead be added to Britain’s sea defences. A remarkable Christian warrior, in so many ways. But there was more to Collingwood – something from which Conservatism- and its smudge – should take heed.
I learnt of Collingwood’s acorn quirk from a tech influencer’s blog. It was the first place to coin the phrase “a Collingwood Solution”. Cuthbert’s hobby was to stride about his native Northumberland, with his beloved dog Bounce, dropping acorns here and there – pressing them with his boot. His aim was a plentiful supply of future oak for Navy’s warships. A hobby so famous it inspired verse – The Song of the Oak. Its regales that “Great Collingwood walked down the glade, and flung the acorns free, that oaks might still be…”
Whilst anecdotal, this story offers a path for membership and ideological succession. As any member of a regional association knows, the model for socialising is tried and tested. Associations invite a party celeb to dinner, members pay rather reasonable money for the chance to have a bit of shoulder-rubbing or behind-closed-doors ranting. It’s fun and humanises the MPs. The venues are the issue. In Beaconsfield, it’s often function rooms at Golf Clubs. Many counties don’t have a “Con Club”, you see.
Ask most floating voter neutrals to describe a Con Club – they’re likely to paint a picture that might well belong in Nelsonian times. Snooker tables, tiredness and definitely not the type of establishment the aspiring worthy or local Generations X-Z frequent. Less Soho House and more Listed House.
For a party reliant on members for income, and larger donors that rise up from communities across the UK to donate vast (disproportionate sums), it seems remarkable that a revamp of the venue proposition wouldn’t warrant major discussion.
If the party is to prosper – muster the resources it needs – it must appeal to those who are not members. Those happy to guest or join one of London’s many private clubs – from Pall Mall to Greek Street. London is fortunate in the quality and quantity of its many business-social venues. The regions? Not so much.
Surely, in that observation and the stark reality that Con Club 1.0’s brand is at best a peeling picture of success and at worst, a tired cliche – does Con Club 2.0 offer something extra? Revenues, yes, but also a secret weapon in the battle for the affluent vote?
Consider The Collingwood Club “solution”, if you please. It isn’t overtly Conservative (avoiding sneers and possibly the saliva of passers by), it nods to the heritage of the party – enabling a traditionally-inspired modern decor. It also offers better subscription opportunities – because it is mutually exclusive to the core party membership. It is a party-dominated, open source ground, where those not ideologically rooted left can frequent and linger a while. It is the party’s preferred venue for creating the kind of exclusivity and experience that makes membership of both party and club a benefit – even for those not bleeding “small state and low tax” from every graze.
There may be those at the Association of Conservative Clubs who wince at this vision – whether that’s bruised ego or trodden toe – we can’t be precious in denying that the image of the organisation needs a three-sixty refit when it sinks at the ballot.
A party that purports to stand for personal choice, competition, enterprise and entrepreneurship is almost remiss to pretend it isn’t well positioned to own a layer for itself. Every election, donors en masse are invited to throw money at the party machine. Some contribute enough for freehold, let alone deposits, but it doesn’t seem sustainable. The party is operating hand to mouth.
Perhaps Donors would be better viewed as Stakeholders – their donations as Equity – used to build an asset base and a sustainable strategic stream of income and brand value. There’s a wealth of experience at doing this across the UK – and the potential “levelling up” opportunity to place London-grade experience around the country certainly chalks the cue of irony.
In this modern reimagination the dartboard and billiards are replaced with pickleball courts or spinning classes – meditative yoga for those still reeling from Labour’s landslide. Lager on tap replaced with locally brewed craft ale. The venue is a workplace away from home – with galaxy-fast wifi – a squadron of bedrooms that rival a Premier Inn. A venue of aspiration.
Does the party not have this in its wit to deliver?
Certainly. We just need a modern generation of Collingwoods to dig into their pocket, and find the metaphorical acorns of capital. Rest assured, that forest of new oaks won’t take long to grow.
