Reflections on Marmalade
Reflections on Marmalade
Last week, I found myself in Oxford, co-hosting a session at the Marmalade Festival. This festival, which began as an independent event and later evolved into the fringe gathering of the Skoll Global Forum, now feels like it has come into its own. In fact, many people I met had come exclusively for Marmalade—or its sibling event, the Side Bar—skipping the official Forum altogether.
As I travelled on the Eurostar to Paris, and eventually back to Switzerland, I jotted down some impressions and reflections from the three days in Oxford.
One recurring sentiment throughout the sessions was that we are living in what the Chinese proverb calls "interesting times." And yet, I didn’t hear anyone admit, “I’m lost—I don’t know what to do next.” In fact, if you were unaware of the global crises unfolding and simply listened to the language in those sessions, you might not even realise anything had changed. The same lexicon prevailed: meaningful measurement, long-term impact, systems approaches, transformation, transformative foresight, shifting power. It felt like... more of the same.
And, of course, no event of this kind would be complete without a dose of funder-bashing. Apparently, funders still haven’t figured it out—whereas everyone else knows exactly what to do, if only funders were wise enough to fund them and stop asking questions. (Forgive my sarcasm, but the level of unexamined finger-pointing is itself a topic worthy of deeper inquiry.)
Beneath this surface of familiar terms and frameworks, I sensed an undercurrent of confusion. Our maps seem outdated. Our playbooks fall short. The words felt hollow, the concepts thin. There weren’t many new ideas on how to face this moment—perhaps none. Is “more of the same” really our best answer?
I’m not sure. What feels more necessary than ever is humility—and a commitment to inquiry. Living life as inquiry resonates with me more and more, both personally and organisationally. Yes, maybe we need more radical approaches—but I doubt they will emerge in scripted spaces where funders and (potential) grantees are performing for each other. It’s still difficult to admit we don’t know what to do next. Admitting uncertainty is seen as a liability: “How can I fund an organisation that doesn’t know what it’s doing?” Yet I suspect we’re all a bit lost—funders and implementers alike.
Perhaps I was simply projecting my own sense of disorientation onto others. But I don’t think so.
That said, it's not all bleak. There's real, grounded, meaningful work being done—especially at the grassroots. I was again struck by the power of deeply human, reflective approaches to working with marginalised communities: people experiencing homelessness, struggling families, and others. One standout example was the Old Fire Station’s storytelling approach. Rather than relying on KPIs, they invite the families they work with to share their own stories. This shift is not only empowering for the families—it also energises the volunteers and social workers, who begin to see the often-invisible impact of their efforts. This kind of hyper-local, adaptive practice isn't about abstract measurement—it is the work. It supports ongoing learning and adaptation, even if the lessons are difficult to aggregate across contexts.
Still, I believe we can—and must—find ways to learn from these local experiences and synthesise insights at a funder level. We're working on something along those lines, and I find it genuinely exciting. At the very least, funders should continue to support local initiatives that build community and resilience. Now more than ever. As for global-scale action? I remain unconvinced that anything meaningful is currently emerging there.
On a personal level, the connections I made and renewed in Oxford were invaluable. The concentration of thoughtful, passionate people was remarkable, and—perhaps unsurprisingly—the most meaningful moments were unplanned: serendipitous encounters with people I hadn’t expected to see.
I also had the joy of co-hosting a spontaneous Warm Data Lab on Thursday. The tone and texture of the conversation in that space were refreshingly different. None of the usual buzzwords—and yet, far deeper insights. The reflections from participants reaffirmed something I’ve long felt: we urgently need spaces where we can meet as human beings, not just roles or organisations.