Coworking Values Podcast

"I just genuinely believe that there is [a pathway to entrepreneurship], and I believe it is the coworking industry. I believe we are perfectly positioned to support entrepreneurs in starting and growing businesses. It's just a lot of people don't know that we exist."

This conversation began with a two-minute video that sparked the attention of the coworking community.

Stacey Sheppard, who runs a coworking space for female entrepreneurs in rural Devon, posted a call to arms that cut straight through the noise: local councils are spending thousands on business boot camps whilst ignoring the coworking spaces already doing this work in their communities.

But Stacey's story runs deeper than frustrated civic policy. She's a content creator whose 20-year writing career has been systematically eroded by AI since the launch of ChatGPT in November 2022.

Instead of retreating, she's become the person her coworking community relies on to make sense of the disruption. She spends "ridiculous amounts of time" hunting down business support programmes, decoding AI courses, and connecting her members to resources they never knew existed.

The timing couldn't be more urgent. Graduates are leaving university with accountancy degrees only to discover that accountants are "numbered" because AI handles data better than humans. The education system isn't working. Entry-level jobs are disappearing. The AI gender gap is widening—37% of women versus 50% of men are using AI tools that will reshape every industry.

Meanwhile, councils run six-week boot camps that inundate aspiring entrepreneurs with enormous amounts of information, then leave them to implement everything on their own.

* No accountability.

* No ongoing support.

* No community to catch them when they stumble.

Stacey sees coworking spaces as the missing infrastructure. Not just hot desks and decent coffee, but the daily proximity that transforms careers. The casual conversation that reveals funding opportunities.

The accountability that happens when someone asks, "How's that website coming along?" Knowledge sharing means you don't have to figure out AI, WordPress, or local business rates by yourself.

Her coworking space, The Tribe, serves women in business in the Totnes area. Many are "really hard-working mums" running their own enterprises who can't take on learning AI alongside everything else.

So Stacey does the courses, reads the reports, and filters what they need to know. One member told her: "I'm actually not that worried about it, Stacey, because I know that you're on the case."

This is civic infrastructure disguised as workspace rental. When a factory opens, it promises 200 jobs. When it closes to secure a better deal elsewhere, 200 jobs are lost.

Coworking spaces create sustainable local employment that adapts to changing work needs. They're economic anchors that keep revenue, talent, and innovation in the community.

But there's no mechanism to connect university graduates to their local coworking ecosystem. No pathway from government-funded business support to the spaces where real entrepreneurship happens daily.

Councils in London boroughs with the highest business registrations struggle to provide basic coworking infrastructure, while others, such as Barking, get ahead of the curve.

The conversation extends beyond policy into the gendered reality of technological disruption. AI systems are built predominantly by men, trained on data that doesn't represent how women experience the world.

Stacey watched women drop off AI courses that were heavy on tech jargon and light on accessibility. The expertise was shared in ways that excluded the very people who need these tools most.

For coworking operators reading this, Stacey's challenge is clear: stop preaching to the converted. Find examples of councils working effectively with coworking spaces. Share success stories that other local authorities can replicate and learn from. Make noise about the economic infrastructure you're already providing.

The disruption is here. The crisis Stacey predicted is unfolding across industries, communities, and careers.

But the solution might be simpler than anyone imagined: recognise and resource the spaces where people already gather to figure out how to how to work together.

Timeline Highlights

[01:18] "We can talk more about this in the Unreasonable Connection event... This is exactly the conversation we want to get people having"

[02:03] "I run a coworking space for women in business and female entrepreneurs in rural Devon... slowly moving into helping small businesses and solopreneurs use AI in their business"

[04:45] "Back in 2022, it had slowly eroded everything I've built and created. But because of what I do in the coworking industry, I haven't felt alone in that"

[06:58] "I spend ridiculous amounts of time finding out about all of the business support that is available... most of them really haven't got a clue that this is happening"

[08:53] "The problem is they finish after six weeks or eight weeks or twelve weeks... Then you're left with enormous amounts of information... Then the course ends and you're out on your own again"

[10:31] "It just feels so disjointed that the impact of that investment from government and local councils could be amplified so much more if we just all work together"

[12:56] "One of my members said to me... I'm actually not that worried about it, Stacey, because I know that you're on the case and you're learning it for us"

[15:44] "The AI gender gap is already quite massive. The last stat I read was something like 37% of women were using it compared to 50% of men"

[17:06] "It would be so much more valuable, and it would really amplify the impact of any investment in business support if we just all work together"

[21:10] "We've got this happening in industries all over the country where graduates are coming out and there just aren't the entry-level jobs to go to"

[24:56] "Your local coworking space is there either 24/7 or Monday to Friday... Whenever you need that support, it's there in the same location, day after day after day"

[29:47] "Unless we get on board with it, it's just going to leave us behind. It scares me"

[31:42] "A lot of women were on the call at the beginning. I could watch them slowly drop off throughout the duration of the course"

[35:27] "A lot of the workshops and courses lose people so quickly because it's new for so many people and it's mind-blowing"

[39:26] "If we could come together as an industry and really make some noise and really try to move this forward a bit, because I think we just need this"

The Corporate Takeover Nobody Talks About

Stacey's 20-year content creation career didn't just change—it was systematically dismantled. "Back in 2022, it had slowly eroded everything I'd built and created," she explains, describing how AI tools began replacing the writing and digital marketing work she'd spent decades developing.

But rather than becoming another casualty of technological disruption, her positioning in coworking gave her something most freelancers don't have: a community to navigate the crisis with.

This isn't just about one person's career pivot. Graduates with accountancy degrees from the University of Exeter are discovering that th...

Episode Summary

"There's a big bias towards design over engagement. Everyone has fancy glass walls, everyone has sit-stand desks, but the messy spaces are where the magic happens."

David Walker attended the South by Southwest Coworking Conference in 2011, when there were only 50 coworking spaces worldwide. He still has the T-shirt. Today, he's observing an industry he helped develop evolve. Into something unrecognisable — and he's not keeping quiet about it.

This isn't another episode about community-building platitudes. David co-founded Austin's first coworking space in 2008, inadvertently became a coworking consultant, and has spent 16 years observing the movement shift from gritty collaboration to glossy commoditization.

When Bernie admits he feels more at home in spaces that look "a bit smacked up, like a hurricane has just passed through," David doesn't just agree — he explains exactly why those messy edges are where real collaboration lives.

The conversation takes an unexpected turn when David reveals he's just launched a collaboration platform built with AI — not to monetise, but to experiment. It's live, it's free, and it's deliberately unpolished. "I've created the pool for people to come swimming," he says, channelling the same energy that built coworking before it became an industry.

From learning to code by clicking "View Source" on websites to applying improv comedy's "yes and" technique to workspace design, this episode challenges everything we think we know about how collaboration actually works.

Bernie's visceral reaction when David says people can "dive in" to his platform — "That terrified me... It's the thing like Noah Kagan or Seth Godin would have chucked up on the internet in 2008" — captures exactly what we've lost in our rush to professionalise.

For anyone running an independent coworking space, wondering why their carefully designed collaboration zones sit empty, or community managers exhausted by forcing connection in sterile environments, this conversation offers both vindication and a way forward. Not through better design, but through embracing the beautiful mess of actual human collaboration.

⏱ Timeline Highlights

[02:15] David is still wearing his 2011 South by Southwest Coworking Conference T-shirt during recording

[03:45] "Coworking was in its grittiest stage... just a bunch of doers and thinkers and disruptors"

[08:20] Bernie admits "community, coworking, collaboration" on his website meant nothing

[10:30] "Collaboration is multiplication" — David's favourite quote about working together

[11:15] The "yes and" technique from improv comedy that changed David's approach

[14:30] "There's a bias towards design over engagement" — the commoditisation problem

[17:00] Bernie: "I always feel really at home where something looks a bit smacked up"

[19:00] Learning to code by clicking "View Source" — collaboration in public origins

[22:00] David launches an experimental collaboration platform built with AI

[23:05] Bernie's terror: "It's the thing Noah Kagan or Seth Godin would have chucked up in 2008"

[29:00] "If someone said 20,000 coworkers are in this, I'd be exhausted"

[31:00] London meetup diversity story — from Indoor Gardeners to London Shy Meetup

[33:00] "Collaboration itself becomes the content" — the radical shift

[34:50] The ecosystem engine launch — E-squared experiment goes live

🎯 Thematic Breakdown

The Corporate Takeover Nobody Talks About

David doesn't mince words about what's happened to coworking. To compete now, you need fancy glass wall systems, sit-stand desks, and the latest technology.

"You've got to compete with the multimillion-dollar player down the road," he says, and the resignation in his voice tells the real story. The messy ones, the rough-around-the-edges spaces that birthed this movement, can't monetise as well. They're being priced out of their own revolution.

The irony cuts deep. These sterile, high-design environments that win the real estate game are the very spaces where collaboration struggles to breathe. David points to hacker spaces and early coworking spots — places with "stuff in them," quirky toys, unexpected pieces.

Not Instagram-ready, but alive with possibility. When Bernie admits he deliberately seeks out "owner-managed coworking spaces" over the glass-walled alternatives, he's not being nostalgic. He's chasing something real that design consultants can't blueprint.

This isn't just aesthetic preference. It's about what happens when commoditisation replaces co-creation, when the bias toward design overtakes engagement. The original ethos of coworking is "starting to see a different reflection in the mirror, and it doesn't know what to do."

Why Improv Comedy Holds the Secret to Collaboration

David's improv comedy class in Austin taught him something that changed everything: the "yes and" technique. On stage, when someone throws out an idea, you never say no.

You build. You add. You keep the momentum alive. "No idea is a bad idea" when you're truly collaborating, he explains. The process becomes bigger than the participants.

Bernie immediately connects this to his own experience of running events. The panels where speakers deliver pre-packaged wisdom? Dead energy. But when everyone's talking, building together, "collaborating in public" as David calls it — that's when people come alive. David even admits he fast-forwards YouTube videos to the Q&A sections because "that's when the real conversation starts."

Think about that for your next community event. Are you creating stages for performance, or pools for swimming? The difference isn't subtle. One creates consumers of content.

The other creates collaborators in discovery. David's right when he says it's like musicians in a jam session — the magic happens when they stop playing what they prepared and start riffing together.

The View Source Revolution

"I learned to code by clicking View Source," David says, and suddenly we're not talking about websites anymore. We're talking about a philosophy of transparency that built the internet — and could rebuild coworking.

That simple browser feature, created so people could learn from each other, represents everything we've forgotten about collaboration in public.

When David launched his collaboration platform last week, built with AI in true experimental fashion, Bernie's response was visceral: "That terrified me." Not because the platform might fail, but because it represents something we've lost.

The willingness to show the messy middle, to build while people watch, to invite others into the process before it's perfect.

The software industry got this right with open source. Seth Godin got it right when he turned blog posts into books, creating in public as he went.

But somewhere along the way, coworking spaces started hiding their process behind NDAs and stealth mode, competing instead of co-creating. David's platform — free, experimental, deliberately unpolished — feels like a deliberate provocation. "I've created the pool for people to come swimming," he says. Will anyone be brave enough to get wet?

The Meetup Era's Lost Lessons

Bernie's story about the 2008 London Meetup gathering with founder Scott deserves its own meditation. Indoor Gardeners meetup. London Shy Meetup (for people who are too shy to talk but need company).

A soup kitchen run by doctors for people "not at risk enough to qualify for government support, but heading in that direction." This was London's actual diversity, not its marketing version.

What made Meetup revolutionary wasn't the technology. It was permission. Permission to gather around any weird, specific, human need.

Permission to show up without knowing ...

"She was so busy that you couldn't even get time on her calendar to deal with important issues. She didn't have any spare time because of how many roles she had to fit."

DeShawn Brown watched a community manager drowning in multiple jobs at one of Raleigh's first coworking spaces. Not because she was popular. Because the industry treats one person like an entire operations department.

Now, as CEO of CoWorks and Director of Operations at Future Leaders of Coworking (FLOC), he's tackling the structural problems that make coworking managers leave the industry entirely.

This isn't a conversation about software features or workspace trends. It's about why DeShawn wants coworking to become a university major, not just "entrepreneurship with a side of workspace."

It's about generous leadership — the radical idea that the best people don't need managing; they need to be excited.

And it's about the perception gap, where everyone thinks coworking is about tech bros playing ping-pong, while salon owners, scientists, and makers are quietly revolutionising how communities share resources.

The kicker? Most coworking space owners don't even know about the mailbox business — recurring revenue they're leaving on the table. Meanwhile, managers are hitting career ceilings, thinking their only options are ownership or exodus.

DeShawn's building the infrastructure to change that, from university programmes to peer networks to tools that turn overwhelmed managers into what he calls "superhumans."

Timeline Highlights

* 01:03 — The perception problem: UK freelancers think coworking is "just tech pros playing ping-pong"

* 02:06 — DeShawn as CEO of CoWorks: "helping to foster that community, grow that community, really create some organisation in the chaos"

* 03:44 — Generous leadership defined: "The best teammates... are the ones that you don't have to micromanage"

* 07:00 — The burnout crisis: "You reach a ceiling... I have to just own the coworking space or leave the coworking industry"

* 08:24 — The moonshot: "to help create a coworking major at the university level"

* 11:52 — The modern manager archetype: "tour coordinator, dishwasher, bathroom stalker, sales admin, event coordinator, booking admin, billing admin"

* 13:26 — The breaking point: Manager so overwhelmed "you couldn't even get time on her calendar"

* 15:31 — Jamie Russo's role: "probably one of the best resources... to learn how to manage a space"

* 18:20 — Regional differences: Southeast US has warehouses, West Coast has smaller spaces, New York is "work, work, work"

* 21:00 — The WeWork blessing/curse: "At least if you say coworking now, they have a reference point"

* 23:16 — Why his team left the office: "We want a change of scenery and we want to be around people"

* 24:40 — Beyond ping-pong: "coworking spaces for salons, for wellness professionals, for scientists"

* 28:36 — The mailbox revelation: "easy recurring money" most owners don't know about

* 29:32 — LinkedIn petition status: Bernie last checked at "387" signatures, need 1,000

The Multiple-Hat Problem

DeShawn lays out the brutal reality: one person juggling tour coordinator, dishwasher, bathroom stocker, sales admin, event coordinator, booking admin, and billing admin. All in a nine-to-five.

With "limited staff and resources." The manager at Jason Widen's Raleigh space was so buried she couldn't even schedule time for critical issues — not because she was in demand, but because every minute was already claimed by operational chaos.

This isn't poor management. It's a structural failure. The industry expects one person to be an entire department, then wonders why they burn out or leave.

Your takeaway: If your manager is wearing more than five hats, you don't have a staffing problem — you have a business model problem. Either hire, automate, or accept that you're burning through talent.

Generous Leadership vs Management Theatre

"The best teammates... are the ones that you don't have to micromanage... the ones that you just get them excited to be where they are."

DeShawn's philosophy: develop people, don't manage them. His best business wins come through genuine relationships — "this person genuinely likes me and vice versa."

Compare this to the traditional model: micromanagement disguised as supervision, which forces rather than inspires. The difference? Generous leaders build networks that generate opportunities. Managers build spreadsheets that track attendance.

Your takeaway: Stop managing enthusiasm out of people. If you're spending time forcing productivity, you've already lost. Focus on making people excited to contribute.

The University Major Nobody's Building

DeShawn's moonshot: making coworking a university major. Not entrepreneurship with workspace on the side. Actual coworking studies. Universities are already building "entrepreneurs' spaces which look eerily similar to coworking" but without the educational infrastructure to support them.

Currently, people enter the industry without training, discover Jamie Russo's programmes if they're lucky, and then learn through expensive mistakes. Meanwhile, entrepreneurship went from being non-existent to offering full-degree programmes in a generation.

Your takeaway: Professional development isn't optional when your managers are juggling eight different roles. The industry treating education as an afterthought is why managers struggle from day one.

The Perception Gap That's Killing Diversity

Bernie recalls a UK freelancer group where mentioning coworking triggered identical responses: "white dudes with tech startups drinking craft beer and playing ping-pong." Meanwhile, DeShawn lists the reality: salon spaces, wellness professionals, scientists with shared labs, and makers. The perception is stuck in 2010, whilst the industry has exploded into every vertical.

The WeWork paradox: it's both a blessing and a curse. People finally have a reference point, but "is that the reference point we want?"

Your takeaway: If you're not actively showcasing diversity in your space, you're reinforcing stereotypes that exclude potential members. Every ping-pong photo you post confirms their biases.

The Mailbox Money Everyone's Missing

"If you do it right, it's just easy recurring money." DeShawn's amazement at how many owners don't understand the mailbox business mirrors Bernie's experience. Virtual addresses aren't just convenient — they're a necessity. "You can't put your home address as your business address. You can. You should not."

DeShawn notes that there are "some operations, some overhead, some maintenance," but compared to complex membership programmes, it's relatively straightforward revenue that spaces leave untapped.

Your takeaway: Before you launch another complicated membership tier, master the basics. A mailbox service, done right, generates predictable revenue with manageable overhead. Why aren't you offering it?

Why LinkedIn Recognition Matters

FLOC's petition for LinkedIn to recognise coworking as an official industry sits under 400 signatures. They need 1,000. "It seems so simple and so trivial, but it's a huge deal." Currently, professionals often choose between "consulting," "real estate," or "hospitality" — none of which accurately captures what they actually do.

This is...

"We know what's going to happen with startups before anyone else because a company will say that they're downsizing or whatever before they'll fire everyone."

Jules Robertson didn't plan to become a workspace oracle. She and co-founder Laura started Tally in mid-2020 with a Squarespace site, watching their own employers bleed money on empty offices. Four years later, they're seeing London's workspace market split into extremes — high-end spaces with on-site gyms at the top, freelancers struggling with £35 day passes at the bottom, and a squeezed middle that nobody wants.

This isn't another "future of work" conversation. It's about what happens when female founders get asked if they're "planning to have a baby" during fundraising pitches. It's about why workspace has become a tax-efficient benefit play, and why the operators who are surviving are the ones who picked a lane and stayed in it. Jules shares insights about talent raids creating "zombie companies," why community-focused spaces need to rethink their entire cost model, and how user-led awards like The Tallys give smaller spaces the recognition that PR budgets usually buy.

The message is clear: if you're trying to be everything to everyone in the workplace, you're already in trouble. The thriving operators know exactly who they are — whether that's Sandbox taking on end-of-life buildings or premium operators charging for "everything that you've ever wanted."

Timeline Highlights

* 02:14 — "I'm known for being one of the co-founders of Tally Workspace... and also just a nice helpful person."

* 02:55 — Mid-2020: Two startup employees build a Squarespace site whilst their companies bleed cash on empty offices.

* 03:20 — The Innovate UK grant that turned an experiment into a business, allowing both founders to quit their jobs and go full-time.

* 04:42 — "We know what's going to happen with startups before anyone else" — companies adjust workspace before public announcements.

* 05:48 — The current market reality: "A real like flight to quality... companies wanting really nice offices in very central locations."

* 07:08 — Inside Sandbox's model: Taking on end-of-life buildings to offer reduced pricing.

* 09:12 — The price shift for freelancers: Individual day passes jumping from £15 to a minimum of £35.

* 09:12 — The 2-3% reality: "The Coworking part of their PnL is always 2, 3%."

* 11:18 — The "everything" play: "They want it to be their gym, their cafe... people are expecting more."

* 13:04 — The cost of premium amenities: Third Space in Notting Hill is cited at "£350 per person per month."

* 13:54 — The tax advantage: On-site gyms avoid the benefit-in-kind tax that external memberships trigger.

* 14:34 — The questions from investors: "Are you planning to have a baby? How are you planning to do this?"

* 15:37 — The support paradox: "Just give me your money or become a customer."

* 18:50 — The rise of "zombie companies" left behind after talent raids.

* 20:55 — Jules's take on specialisation: "I'd be tempted to either do 100% coworking or 100% offices."

* 24:52 — Why The Tallys matter: Celebrating community-loved spaces like Mission Works and Lime Tree Workshops.

The 2-3% Reality Check

Jules reveals a number that explains the coworking pricing puzzle: for many operators, coworking represents just "2, 3%" of their P&L. This is why they can push day pass prices from £15 to £35 without blinking—it's a rounding error for them, but a crippling cost for freelancers. At £35 a day, a freelancer's monthly workspace bill hits £700.

Your takeaway: If coworking is less than 15% of your revenue, you're in the office business. Acknowledge it.

Price your coworking offer sustainably for the user, or get out of that market. Stop pretending to serve a community you're actively pricing out.

Why Female Founders Get Everything Except Funding

"Free coaching, free mentoring, this programme, that programme." Jules experienced the theatre of support that offers female founders everything except what actually builds a business: money and customers.

The frustration peaked when mentors offered advice while buying from Tally's competitors. Her simple test cuts through the noise: "Will you become a customer?"

Your takeaway: Apply Jules's test to every offer of help. Does this directly lead to revenue or new customers? If not, it's a distraction. Your time is your most valuable asset; don't trade it for performative allyship.

The £350 Gym and the Tax Man

A gym membership at Third Space in Notting Hill costs £350 a month. If a company offers this as an external benefit, it's taxed.

But if they provide a high-quality gym inside their workspace, it becomes a tax-efficient amenity. This isn't just about wellness; it's a financial strategy that makes premium office space more valuable.

Your takeaway: Stop thinking about amenities as perks. Start analysing them as tax-efficient business solutions. Every facility should solve a concrete problem for your members' companies, not just tick a marketing box.

The Specialisation Strategy

"I'd be tempted to either do 100% coworking or 100% offices." Jules observes that the operators who struggle most are the ones caught in the middle, trying to serve everyone.

Even successful community-led spaces like Patch work because they are "way more than a workspace"—they are fully committed to their niche, not hedging their bets.

Your takeaway: Pick a lane. Are you serving freelancers with a vibrant community and flexible access? Or are you providing private offices for scaling teams? Trying to do both without a clear strategy means you'll fail at both.

Reading the Workspace Tea Leaves

Tally sees business futures before they become press releases. Companies reduce their workspace footprint before announcing layoffs. They sign for a new office before their funding round is made public.

Jules notes how quickly the startup environment changed in the four months she was on maternity leave, proving that workspace decisions are a leading indicator of market health.

Your takeaway: Your customer's workspace usage is a valuable source of business intelligence. Track it. A sudden contraction is a warning sign. An expansion is an opportunity. Stop waiting for the news and start reading the room.

Links & Resources

* Tally Workspace

* The Tallys Awards - Vote Now

* Sandbox Workspace

* Patch Coworking

* Unreasonable Connection Events

* Sam Shea's LinkedIn Campaign - Get "Coworking" as a LinkedIn industry option

* Connect with Bernie on LinkedIn

* Connect with Jules on LinkedIn

One More Thing

Jules didn't set out to spot market trends. But when ...

"We were being disconnected and distributed instead of coming together."

That's Ashley Proctor describing the moment in 2004 when Ontario College of Art and Design students were losing their collaborative spaces to renovations. Their solution? Pool their money, rent their own space, run it themselves.

No business plan. No investor deck. Just students who needed somewhere to work together. That space still runs today — still student-funded, still student-run, twenty years later.

This isn't a story about hot desks. It's about what happens when communities stop asking permission and start building what they need.

Ashley's been at this for two decades, watching the movement evolve from art students splitting rent to Community Land Trusts raising millions to lock down entire neighbourhoods for affordable housing "for generations to come." The same DNA, just bigger stakes.

The problem now? People's first taste of coworking is often corporate, cookie-cutter spaces that turn them off the entire concept. They never discover the indie operators doing "really special and fitting and tailored" work for their actual neighbours.

Meanwhile, Ashley's asking the questions that matter: How do you measure dismantled loneliness? What's the mental health impact across 20 years’ worth? Why are we still pretending every member needs to scale and exit?

She's not interested in your occupancy rates. She wants to know if your membership model serves members or profit. Whether cities are sponsoring desks for newcomers.

If your space could be layered into Community Land Trust models to preserve affordable workspace forever. Because "every major problem we're about to face needs to be solved collectively" — and that starts with remembering why we built these spaces in the first place.

Timeline Highlights

02:02 - Ashley's mission crystallised: "I would like to be known for building communities of care"

03:43 - The origin story: Ontario College of Art and Design students losing collaborative space to renovations

04:02 - The real audience: "emerging artists... people who don't necessarily fit into a typical 9:00 to 5:00 role"

05:30 - The forgotten truth: "No profit, no end goal. It was just, I can't do this on my own"

07:17 - The cookie-cutter fear: People "get turned off or turned away" before discovering indie operators

09:08 - Collaboration defined: "If you need something, you're encouraged to ask for support"

11:18 - The collective imperative: "Every major problem we're about to face needs to be solved collectively"

14:06 - Community Land Trusts in action: "Watching folks come together and raise money, lock down a property for affordable housing for generations to come"

18:59 - The measurement crisis: "How do you measure the impact we've had on the mental health of our members over 20 years?"

21:42 - Value redefined: "Are there other models where we don't need to exchange that membership fee?"

24:56 - Cities sponsoring desks for "newcomers or new nonprofits or folks with disabilities"

27:17 - The gut check: "Are our membership models designed to serve the members first and foremost, or are they designed to create profit?"

31:04 - Coworking Canada Conference: September 29-30 in Toronto, 29 October online

The Art School Revolution Nobody Talks About Anymore

Twenty years ago, art students at OCAD weren't protesting or petitioning — they were pooling rent money. Ashley watched as they lost their collaborative spaces to renovations and refused to accept isolation.

The space they created still operates today, is still student-funded, and is still student-run. No venture capital. No accelerator programme. Just people who needed to work together badly enough to figure it out on their own.

Your takeaway: Stop waiting for permission or investment. The best spaces emerge from actual need, not market opportunity. If students can sustain a space for 20 years, what's your excuse?

When Cookie-Cutter Coworking Kills the Movement

Ashley's fear keeps her up at night: people encounter WeWork first and mistakenly think that's what coworking is.

They never find the indie operators doing "really special and fitting and tailored" work for actual neighbours. The mainstream experience becomes a barrier to understanding what coworking could be.

Your takeaway: Your marketing needs to scream why you're different. Not better coffee — different values. Make it clear you're not another corporate workspace with exposed brick.

The Unmeasurable Impact We Refuse to Price

"I didn't start a coworking space because I wanted every single member to scale or sell their business." Ashley drops this bomb mid-conversation, obliterating every investor pitch deck in a 10-mile radius. She wants to measure dismantled loneliness. The value of emotional labour. Twenty years of mental health support that never shows up on a P&L.

Your takeaway: Start documenting what actually matters. The member who didn't quit. The friendship that saved someone's business. The loneliness that lifted. That's your real ROI.

From Desks to Land: The Next Revolution

Ashley's bridging coworking and Community Land Trusts — movements that share DNA but operate at different scales. She's watching communities raise money to lock down properties forever, ensuring affordable housing for generations.

The parallel to coworking is obvious: both movements need to own their own infrastructure or risk it disappearing.

Your takeaway: Stop thinking about lease renewal. Start thinking about land ownership. Partner with Community Land Trusts. Your neighbourhood needs permanent, affordable workspace, not another 5-year lease.

Cities Finally Paying for What They Should Have Built

Economic development offices are sponsoring desks. Cities are funding memberships for newcomers, nonprofits, and people with disabilities. Not charity — infrastructure. Ashley sees this as cities finally understanding their mandate: supporting residents' health and economic well-being through community spaces.

Your takeaway: Draft that proposal to your economic development office today. Frame coworking as essential infrastructure, not a nice-to-have amenity. Include specific desk sponsorship numbers.

The Values Reckoning Coming for Everyone

"Things will not be the way they are today in a year or two or five." Ashley's not talking about hot desk prices. She's discussing how AI could eliminate jobs, lead to political upheaval, and necessitate economic restructuring.

The spaces that survive won't be the ones with the best margins — they'll be the ones that remembered why they started.

Your takeaway: Do the gut check now. Look at your membership model. Does it serve members or profit? If you can't answer instantly, you already know the answer.

The Scholarship Desk Nobody Wants to Talk About

Even one sponsored desk per space would transform access globally. Ashley's pushing spaces to move beyond their "very small programmes" to systematic inclusion. Deskpass lets companies pay for all employees.

Cities can sponsor systematically. The models exist — we have to use them.

Your takeaway: Implement one scholarship desk this month. Find one sponsor — a company, the city, a foundation. Make it systematic, not charity. Build it into your model.

Links & Resources

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Building Coworking for the People Actually Living in Hackney with Kofi Oppong

When 15-year-old twins refuse to leave the AI lab and Caribbean grandmothers learn to code their way past red tape.

"Those are the ones that are struggling to connect. So we went from basics in terms of online browsing to how to use AI. And I helped a lady solve problems with the council by showing her how to write letters in seconds."

That's Kofi Oppong, founder of Urban MBA, describing the moment when technology education stopped being abstract and became a tool for immediate community power. In a converted space near Old Street, something remarkable is happening: Caribbean elders eating jerk chicken whilst surrounded by VR headsets, 15-year-old twins who won't stop building AI-generated games, and a radical repricing of coworking that slashes hot desk rates to £15 to serve the neighbourhood.

This isn't your typical tech hub story. Urban MBA has discovered what most coworking spaces overlook: the people furthest from technology are often the ones who suffer the most when society goes digital.

So they're doing something about it. Through partnerships with organisations like Caribbean Eats, they're teaching over-50s to use Claude AI not for Silicon Valley disruption, but to navigate council bureaucracy, write complaint letters, and maintain their dignity in an increasingly digital welfare state.

The economics are deliberate. As Kofi explains, "the traditional coworking person is, and it's no disrespect to any for me, it's white middle class with money." So Urban MBA slashed their prices and opened their EdTech centre to the actual community.

The result? A waiting list for AI courses that fills instantly, grandparents telling their grandchildren about quantum computing over Sunday dinner, and young people from Hackney learning to "code vibe" — using AI to build games without writing a single line of traditional code.

This is coworking as civic infrastructure, not lifestyle brand. Where most spaces chase remote workers with good coffee and fast WiFi, Urban MBA is teaching marginalised communities to navigate the 400 million jobs that AI is predicted to eliminate globally. They're not just talking about inclusion; they're pricing for it, designing for it, and measuring success by how many local people actually use the space.

Timeline Highlights

00:03 - Bernie opens with the image that matters: "These people are all 50 plus and they get to eat together and they get to learn how to use AI while surrounded by VR headsets and 3D printers"

01:13 - The political reality check: "The people furthest from the tech that get hit the hardest"

04:12 - Kofi drops the AGI bomb: "Artificial General Intelligence, which is when AI can run a whole company by itself"

06:57 - Two 15-year-old twins discover code vibing: "I couldn't get them off the AI. Once they realised what it could do, they started copying the code"

09:21 - Partnership with Ali Kakande begins: "Cara Eats has a space where they do Caribbean meals every Friday at 12:00 lunchtime, and they play Bingo"

10:46 - The council letter breakthrough: "I helped a lady solve problems with the council by showing her how to write letters in seconds"

11:45 - The surreal scene: Over-60s eating Caribbean food surrounded by Meta VR machines and quantum computer models

14:04 - The anime community after-party that changed everything: "Creatives in the UK absolutely despise AI... But when we did the 3D printing, Sip and paint, Antonio taught and showed them how to use AI"

16:44 - The pricing revolution: "We've slashed all the prices that you can get a hot desk for £15, anybody in the local community"

20:35 - Word-of-mouth truth: "You can put out as much social media as you want, but that doesn't necessarily connect people who are local to the community"

22:48 - The authenticity test: "When people come here, they're very surprised at what we've got... But it's still authentic"

26:34 - Government shifts toward entrepreneurship: "Keir Starmer has said they're going to stop a lot of the big organisations giving 60, 90 day, 120 day payment terms"

The AI Education Revolution Nobody Asked For (But Everyone Needs)

Urban MBA's summer camps aren't teaching kids to code — they're teaching them to make AI code for them. Two 15-year-old twins spent an entire afternoon refusing to leave the computer lab, not playing games but building them using Claude AI. They've signed up for another week because they can't stop creating.

Reader takeaway: Stop teaching people tools. Teach them to solve immediate problems. The over-50s don't need to understand large language models; they need to write letters to the council. Start there.

When Caribbean Grandmothers Meet Quantum Computing

Every Friday at noon, Ali Kakande's Caribbean Eats group gathers for food, bingo, and now — AI literacy. They're learning to navigate digital bureaucracy whilst sitting next to £30,000 VR headsets and 3D-printed quantum computer models.

The laughter Bernie describes from his February visit? That's what community education actually sounds like.

Reader takeaway: Your most powerful educational moments happen when people feel safe enough to laugh. If your coworking space feels like a library, you're doing it wrong.

The £15 Hot Desk Revolution

"The traditional coworking person is white middle class with money, and they go to all the coworking spaces around Old Street." So Urban MBA did the unthinkable: they slashed prices to £15 for hot desks. Not as a promotion. As a philosophy.

Reader takeaway: Your pricing is your politics. If your community can't afford your day rate, you're not serving your community.

The Anime Community That Learned to Stop Worrying and Love AI

UK creatives "absolutely despise AI" — until Antonio showed the anime community how to use it to 3D print their character designs. The same people ready to "cancel" anyone talking about AI suddenly couldn't stop using it.

Reader takeaway: Resistance to technology often masks fear of irrelevance. Show people how tech serves their existing passions, not how it replaces them.

Word-of-Mouth Beats SEO Every Time

Kofi's community growth strategy ignores the algorithm: "You can put out as much social media as you want, but that doesn't necessarily connect people who are local to the community. They want to see that you're doing stuff in the community for them."

Reader takeaway: Stop optimising for Google. Start optimising for the grandmother who tells her entire church about your space.

AGI Is Coming — But Council Letters Come First

While Silicon Valley debates artificial general intelligence, Urban MBA is teaching people to use AI for the bureaucratic battles that actually determine their quality of life. The revolution isn't in the technology; it's in who gets to use it.

Reader takeaway: The future of work isn't about preparing for AGI. It's about ensuring the people who'll be hit hardest by automation have tools to fight back today.

Links & Resources

* Urban MBA Website

* LinkedIn coworking group for podcast discussions

* T...

Episode Summary

"I know for a fact I've got two more at home."

The woman standing outside Gavin's ski shop holds five pairs of ski pants. It's Brexit day—the one that never happened—and instead of drowning in political despair, Gavin's running a "Fix It, F**k Brexit" event.

People are donating their excess gear, getting things repaired, and planting trees. Nine grand raised in a day. But it's the five pairs of ski pants that stop him in his tracks.

This is Courchevel, a playground for millionaires, where you can eat lobster at the top of a mountain if you're that way inclined. Where shops like Prada line the high street. Where Gavin Fernie-Jones spent years running two ski shops, unwrapping products from their plastic cocoons only to bin the packaging immediately. The rep who fights water pollution on weekends tells him straight: "The brands know skiing will die from climate change. They're making money while they can."

Then his dad cycles into the back of a parked vehicle. Ten days in a coma. The family makes the decision. The life support machine goes quiet.

"As a white man born in the UK in the '80s, you have a ton of privilege and a ton of certainty," Gavin says. "In that moment, none of this was certain anymore."

What follows isn't a redemption arc—it's messier than that. It's Gavin walking away from the consumer story he'd been absorbed into. Creating One Tree at a Time, a community space built from waste.

Launching the Re-Action Collective—70 tiny organisations out-innovating the entire multi-billion pound outdoor industry. Not through venture capital or strategic plans, but through repair workshops, shared knowledge, and the radical act of not charging membership fees.

The moment they stopped asking "What am I getting?" and started asking "What can I give?"—that's when the magic happened.

Now there's a film called Actionism travelling the world through community screenings. An 18-year-old named Ellie is finding her way from climate anxiety to collective action. A magazine. A movement. All built on one principle: it's easier to act your way into a new story than to think your way there.

This isn't about scaling. It's about finding the others.

Timeline Highlights

* [00:04] Bernie's setup: "What a lot of people say about Citizens is it gave them the language they were looking for"

* [04:33] "I grew up at an outdoor activity centre called Lockerbrook"—nearest neighbour a mile away, village 13 miles out

* [06:53] The French Alps revelation: "Wow, you can live and work here"—20 years later, still there

* [09:28] Glacial melt and forest fires—watching climate change in real-time from the ski shop window

* [11:17] The wolf walking through the village, caught on WhatsApp

* [14:04] Spring-fed water with E. coli levels "through the roof"—but they'd been drinking it for years

* [23:37] The brand rep's confession: "We know skiing is going to fail. We're making money until then"

* [25:20] Dad's cycling accident—10 days in a coma, the moment certainty vanished

* [27:54] "Fix It, F**k Brexit"—the event that raised nine grand and revealed five pairs of ski pants

* [31:04] One Tree at a Time opens—"What should we create?" asked the community, not decided for them

* [34:38] The fee paradox: dropping membership costs, everyone shifts from "What am I getting?" to "What can I give?"

* [44:26] Actionism gets its name—"The art of finding the others and taking collective action"

* [49:48] 100+ screening requests worldwide—Green Party New Zealand wants it in schools

The Consumer Story That Nearly Swallowed Him

"Everything would come into the shop wrapped in plastic, single-use cardboard, and we would take it off and bin it immediately."

Gavin didn't set out to run ski shops in Courchevel. With an art degree in his pocket and qualified as a climbing instructor since the age of 18, he came to the mountains. But ski resorts have a way of absorbing you into their logic. Prada on the high street. Advertising plastered across ski lifts. Lobster at altitude.

The brands were honest, at least. When Gavin started asking about sustainability, one rep—a fly fisherman who spent weekends suing councils over water pollution—laid it out: the companies know skiing's days are numbered. Climate change will kill the industry. The plan? Extract maximum profit before the inevitable.

Meanwhile, Gavin's watching glacial melt reveal how much ice has already gone. Forest fires. Rain when it should be snow. The very landscape that brought him here is transforming beneath his boots.

When Certainty Dies, Possibility Emerges

"I just went, well, none of this is certain."

The phone call comes. Dad's in a coma after cycling into a parked vehicle. Ten days of waiting. Then the decision no family wants to make.

For someone raised with the privilege of certainty—the UK in the '80s, white, male, the prescribed path from grades to job to house—this moment shatters everything. Not dramatically. Quietly. A fault line through assumed futures.

"Once that self-awareness starts to happen," Gavin reflects, "there's a long, old journey that you go on that has many highs and lows."

The Day Brexit Didn't Happen (And Nine Grand Got Raised)

"Our community cares. They're looking for a way to try and do something."

Instead of drowning in political despair on the Brexit day that never was, Gavin organises "Fix It, F**k Brexit" outside the ski shop. Donate your old gear. Get things repaired. Plant trees.

The woman with five pairs of ski pants becomes the moment of revelation. People have too much stuff. They want to do something meaningful. The £ 9,000 raised proves both points.

This becomes One Tree at a Time—a community space on the high street where the community decides what happens. Built from waste. Funded by Gavin initially, shaped by everyone.

The Re-Action Collective: 70 Davids, One Goliath

"We've completely out-innovated the entire multi-billion dollar industry from 70 small, tiny organisations."

When someone asks how to scale One Tree at a Time, Gavin resists. This isn't about replication—it's about emergence. Enter Heather, and the birth of the Re-Action Collective.

Seventy organisations reimagining the outdoor industry through repair, reuse, and regeneration. No membership fees. When big brands come knocking—"Can we join?"—the answer is clear: "That's not what we're trying to do here."

The moment they drop fees, everything shifts. "What am I getting?" becomes "What can I give?" Guides appear on running alternative high streets. Workshops proliferate. Knowledge flows freely.

Ellie's Story: From Climate Anxiety to Collective Action

"An 18-year-old with such self-awareness and such energy and creativity."

Ellie Meredith is 19 now. When she left school at 18, the adults around her weren't talking about what mattered—climate change, social anxiety, the future she'd inherit. So she went looking for the others.

The film Actionism tells her journey through the Re-Action Collective. From paralysing anxiety to purposeful action. Now she's undertaking an apprenticeship at Manchester University, employed by Re-Action, and is embedded in collective work.

Michael, the filmmaker, throws out "Actionism" as a working title. It sticks. "The art of finding the others and taking collective action."

Why Community Screenings Beat Netfli...

"We don't pay rent, but we pay them in social value... To date, I think we've provided £2.5 million to Islington Council in social value."

Space4 doesn't pay rent.

Instead, they deliver something harder to measure but infinitely more valuable: £2.5 million in social value to Islington Council through the creation of jobs, the launch of businesses, and the sparking of connections over Wednesday lunches.

This isn't corporate social responsibility theatre. It's what happens when a worker-owned cooperative decides that neighbourhood economic development matters more than profit margins.

Natasha Natarajan didn't plan to help run this experiment. She came to research cooperatives for her master's degree, using Space4 and Outlandish as her case study.

Three years later, she's co-director of both the tech agency and the physical space—one half of a female leadership team that has "complete independence and control over what we do here."

As she notes with characteristic understatement: "It definitely feels special that we're two women of colour even doing that in Space4."

Along with colleague Maddy, Natasha navigates the daily challenge of tracking the untrackable. How do you assign monetary value to the job someone gets three months after a kitchen conversation?

How do you measure the impact of 15 people eating lunch together every Wednesday? How do you prove that a second-floor space invisible from the street has become the beating heart of Finsbury Park's tech-for-good ecosystem?

Born as "a centre point, a hub for the tech worker co-op movement," Space4 now serves as home to Founders and Coders' free coding bootcamp, 26 tech cooperatives, and what Natasha calls their "virtual membership"—people who may never rent a desk but see Space4 as their intellectual and social home.

This conversation explores how cooperative values are translated into daily practice, how Space4 overcomes the challenge of being invisible from the street through intentional neighbourhood engagement, and what eight years of consistent impact reveal about building economic democracy at the neighbourhood scale.

⏱ Timeline Highlights

[01:17] "I am known for being the Events and Partnerships Coordinator at Space4, but I'd rather be known for my DIY projects at home"

[02:30] The research that became reality: "I was doing research for my master's about cooperatives... I ended up using Space4 and Outlandish as my case study"

[03:51] Complete autonomy: "We have complete independence and control over what we do here"

[04:15] The significance of female leadership: "It definitely feels special that we're two women of colour even doing that in Space4"

[05:35] The Founders and Coders partnership origin: "We got that deal by having Founders & Coders as one of our anchor tenants"

[06:04] £2.5 million delivered: "To date, I think we've provided £2.5 million to Islington Council in social value"

[07:20] The TOMS framework challenge: "It basically assigns monetary value to particular things... It's very difficult for us to capture everything"

[08:45] Real-time value capture: "We're just sitting at our desk and we see two people meeting... That is social value"

[09:40] Culture over explanation: "I think it would almost feel a bit trite... We demonstrate it through doing what we do"

[11:40] Wednesday's ritual: "Even if you don't sign up for the actual food, people come just to sit together"

[13:01] Opening the doors: "We sell about five places every Wednesday for just members of the general public"

[15:40] The invisibility challenge: "From the ground floor, you really can't tell that we're there"

[17:52] Neighbourhood celebrity: "I walk down Finsbury Park and people wave at me so much that I feel like a minor celebrity"

[19:49] Cross-pollination success: "There's been so much cross-pollination between Founders and Coders and the tech businesses in our space"

[21:19] The Discord job board: "It's amazing how many people actually look and apply and get those jobs"

[23:20] Monthly structured networking: "That's actually created a lot of work for people, freelancers in particular"

[26:31] The origin story: "That's why Space4 was born, to be a centre point, a hub for the tech worker co-op movement"

[27:51] Three-layer community: "Space4 has the desk users... the co-tech, co-op community... [and] people who come here for events. That's our virtual membership"

🎯 Thematic Breakdown

The Origin Story That Explains Everything

Space4 wasn't born as a coworking space. It was born as infrastructure for a movement.

"Outlandish Co-op... realised that there are other tech worker cooperatives in the country, but we weren't talking enough to each other."

So, they co-founded Co-Tech, now comprising 26 worker cooperatives, and created Space4 as their physical home.

This origin as movement infrastructure, rather than a commercial venture, shapes everything: the cooperative ownership, the social value model, and the careful curation of events "at the intersection of social impact co-ops and tech."

Polly, the founding manager, set the template. Now Natasha and Maddy carry it forward, understanding that they're stewarding something bigger than a workspace.

The £2.5 Million Question: Measuring the Unmeasurable

The TOMS framework assigns monetary value to social outcomes. Jobs created. Business support hours. Skills developed. But as Natasha admits, capturing informal value exchange is "definitely a challenge."

"Sometimes we're literally just sitting at our desk and we see two people meeting in a meeting room and we're like, Oh, what's that about? That is social value. We record it."

The real value often reveals itself months later—someone mentions they got a job, a project launches, a business pivots based on lunchtime advice.

Maddy tracks it all monthly for the council, but both know they capture maybe half of what happens.

This isn't a bug; it's a feature.

The most valuable exchanges resist measurement because they're organic, informal, and unexpected. The framework lends them legitimacy with the council, but the real work takes place in the unmeasured spaces.

Wednesday Lunch: The Heartbeat of Economic Democracy

"It's a spreadsheet that gets spread around in our internal Discord."

This mundane detail reveals sophisticated community infrastructure. Wednesday lunch isn't catered; someone from the space organises it. They buy from independent local restaurants. Fifteen people gather.

"It's effectively a networking session, but we call it Community Lunch." The reframe matters. Networking sounds like an obligation. Lunch sounds like community.

Opening five spots to the public via Eventbrite creates porosity. Members bring potential clients.

Strangers become regulars.

The boundary between inside and outside softens.

As Bernie notes, bringing someone to Wednesday lunch shows them "the full experience" better than any tour could. It's Space4 at its best: informal, productive, and genuinely communal.

The Invisibility Advantage

"There's a massive black gate or a very discreet grey door to get into our space. You can't pass it and be curious about it."

This architectural challenge has become a strategic advantage. Without foot traffic, every member is intentional. Without visibility, they work harder to connect with the neighbourhood.

The solution? Become the neighbourhood's best customer first.

"As a business, as Outlandish, we also have a team lunch on Tuesday, and we visit the local businesses."...

"There's always going to be someone who comes along who does something a little bit better, a bit faster, a bit cheaper than you. And then you're going to be chasing your tail. But if you can elevate this hospitality, this way to make people feel valued, then actually they're not chasing the quickest, fastest, next thing that's released."

The panic hits when you overhear a member saying they're "just looking around" at other spaces.

Your stomach drops when you see a competitor's Instagram story of their flash Christmas party, complete with what appears to be an unlimited budget.

The exhaustion creeps in as you find yourself constantly trying to match prices, add amenities, or create bigger wow moments just to keep up.

Julie Firth and Sonya Whittam are the founders of Story22, StoryBrand guides and Unreasonable Hospitality coaches who understand precisely how businesses get trapped in this race to the bottom.

What they've discovered about competing on connection rather than price should make every independent space owner breathe a sigh of relief.

The spaces that thrive aren't the ones with Beyoncé budgets or corporate backing.

They're the ones who notice when someone's left-handed and quietly switch their cutlery during the second course.

In this conversation, Bernie digs into the practical reality of competing on connection rather than price. Not the Instagram-worthy moments that make headlines, but the everyday touchpoints that create loyalty.

How a member's monthly bill can become a moment of value rather than a source of resentment.

Why your toilet facilities might be more critical than your event programme.

How remembering someone's coffee order creates the kind of story they'll tell for years.

Bernie brings his restaurant background to bear—those moments when turning tables four times in lunch service mattered more than customer experience, and how that taught him what genuine hospitality actually looks like.

This isn't about trying to match corporate chains or creating elaborate experiences you can't afford.

This is about understanding that every single interaction—from the moment someone walks through your door to how they receive their monthly invoice—is an opportunity to make them feel like they belong.

If you've ever felt overwhelmed by the idea of competing with bigger players, this episode is your permission to stop trying.

⏱ Timeline Highlights

[00:04] Bernie's energy from the start: "Omg, what an episode we got in stall for you today"

[01:23] Julie's human-focused philosophy: "We are very human-focused, so we are focused all on the customer"

[03:14] Bernie's restaurant-coworking connection: "When I'm in a coworking space and it's all happening, it feels like being in a restaurant that's where it's all happening, too"

[04:10] Sonya's home hospitality reframe: "Let's reframe hospitality as thinking about what it would be like if you welcome someone into your home"

[05:34] The competition trap revealed: "There's always going to be someone who comes along who does something a little bit better, a bit faster, a bit cheaper than you"

[07:29] The "home from home" insight: "People want a home from home. They want to feel like they belong somewhere. They're fed up with working on their own in a bedroom somewhere"

[08:31] Bernie's Story Brand breakthrough: "It was the first book I've read where I thought, Oh, I get that. I can go and apply that in my business right away"

[09:18] Julie's overwhelming warning: "This can very quickly be and feel overwhelming. When you think about the touch points that your members have inside a coworking space, there will be hundreds and hundreds of them"

[10:37] The toilet revelation: "It could be the most mundane touch points, like going to the toilet... But it could be an important one"

[12:31] The Beyoncé question every small operator asks: "How can I compete with that? When they look at big shiny brands... We were going to do a roundtable with some avocado on toast"

[13:10] The zero-cost loyalty builder: "We observe whether the customer is left-handed. Then if they're left-handed, we come and switch their knives and forks around... That doesn't cost anything"

[14:32] Monthly bills as relationship destroyers: "Every month that they get their bill through. That's a negative touch point. There's an opportunity for them to feel, What am I paying this money for?"

[15:40] The cognac strategy unpacked: "He delivered the bill... He overcame that negative experience by also delivering a bottle of cognac"

[17:09] Bernie's restaurant efficiency revelation: "If you could turn the restaurant four times in lunch service, that was amazing... You got four rounds of tips per a table instead of two"

[21:17] Bernie's authenticity question: "What's that line between gimmicks and genuine special moments?"

[23:54] Maya Angelou's truth: "People forget what you say, they forget what you did, but they never forget the way you make them feel"

[25:05] Sonya's hotel coffee story: "This server had taken it so valued my experience that he brought a cup of coffee up to my room"

[26:19] Bernie's recognition moment: "How the f@ck did you know that? And I went, oh, because... And he's like, Oh, my God"

The Home Test: What Hospitality Actually Means

Sonya cuts through decades of hospitality industry jargon with a straightforward question: What would it be like if you welcomed someone into your home?

Not the corporate training manual version of customer service. Not the scripted "how can I help you today?" interactions. The real thing—how you make people feel welcome, valued, taken care of when they're in your space.

As AI and automation remove more human touchpoints from business, this becomes your competitive advantage. Not because it's nice to have, but because it's the only thing that stops members chasing the next cheaper, faster option that appears in their inbox.

When someone feels genuinely welcomed, they stop shopping around.

Why Left-Handed Cutlery Beats Beyoncé Every Time

The example that stopped Bernie mid-conversation: observing that someone's left-handed and quietly switching their cutlery during the second course.

Zero cost. Massive impact.

This is what Julie and Sonya mean when they talk about competing on connection rather than budget. You don't need celebrity entertainment or elaborate experiences. You need to pay attention to the individual human being in front of you and respond accordingly.

Bernie gets this because he's lived it—remembering that a regular customer drinks Corona with a margarita (no salt), then seeing their face light up when you put their usual in front of them without being asked. The cost? Nothing. The story they tell their friends? Priceless.

The Overwhelm Trap and How to Escape It

Julie's warning resonates with every coworking operator who has read Unreasonable Hospitality and felt paralysed: hundreds of touchpoints, endless opportunities for improvement, and the temptation to tackle everything at once.

Her solution is liberating: pick six priority touchpoints where you're already having challenges. Understand why they matter. Pick them apart in minute detail. Get some quick wins. Then roll the process out.

This isn't about perfection. It's about progress.

Start with where members already feel friction—maybe it's the arrival process, maybe it's how they get help when something breaks, perhaps it's how they receive information about changes. Fix those first, then expand.

The Toilet Test: Finding Gold in Mundane Moments

The revelation that made Bernie sit up: one of Julie's clients disc...

"A lot of policies are managed to, or a lot of policies are written to manage the majority's comfort. And actual inclusion asks a much different question."

The rainbow sticker is on the door.

The diversity statement is on the website.

The pronouns are in the email signatures.

But walk into most coworking spaces as a neurodivergent person, and you'll quickly discover the gap between performative inclusion and genuine accessibility.

Aidan Sunassee has become a master at finding the quietest seat in any coworking space.

As a psychology and sexuality researcher who's also neurodivergent, he has developed what he calls "weird human decibel metre" skills—instantly clocking the hum of fridges, the reverberation of phone calls, and the light flicker that can only be seen out of the corner of your eye.

Working as a copywriter and translator at Cobot coworking software, Aidan sits at the intersection of academic research and practical implementation. He understands both the theory of inclusive design and the daily reality of trying to work in spaces that weren't built for brains like his.

This conversation with Emily reveals the uncomfortable truth about most inclusion efforts: they're designed to make the majority feel good about being inclusive, not to actually include the people who've been left out.

Aidan's insights cut through the performative gestures to reveal what genuine inclusion requires.

It's not about adding more policies or hosting more diversity training. It's about fundamentally rethinking who gets to decide what inclusion looks like—and being willing to change based on what marginalised people actually tell you.

For coworking operators, this episode offers a mirror. For community builders, it serves as a roadmap. For anyone who's ever felt excluded from a space that claimed to welcome everyone, it's validation that the problem isn't you.

Timeline Highlights

[01:39] "What I learned early on within that is that the space itself kind of makes or breaks whether I do want to come back"

[02:43] The massive gap between how spaces are designed and how people need to work

[05:18] Why even simple retreats—a small room on the side—can make all the difference for overwhelmed nervous systems

[06:42] "Make it about the work and not just the diversity"—shifting focus from performative to practical

[07:25] "Nothing about queer people with other queer people actually involved in creating those policies"—the fundamental flaw in most inclusion efforts

[10:08] "There's no crazy apology that's needed. It does not need to be performative"—how to handle pronoun mistakes without drama

[12:12] "A lot of policies are written to manage the majority's comfort. And actual inclusion asks a much different question"

[13:59] "Meaningfully consulting people that are not, that are neurodivergent, that are queer, it's inviting them and being willing to change things based on what they tell you"

[14:39] "If it's been run through people that it affects, the fact that it's implemented will be visible to the community"

[17:04] The simple power of anonymous feedback: "If there's anything we can do to make you guys more comfortable here, we're going to do that"

[19:03] Name fields that don't require legal documentation—small changes with massive impact

[21:27] "Let's not mark bathrooms with men and women and not have a gender neutral option at the very least"

[22:56] "Building this as a gradient across the spaces would very much reflect the fact that different brains and different work modes require different inputs"

[25:08] "It's definitely how people see staff navigate conflict or corrections in real time"—culture is measured in moments of tension

[32:33] "Having a sign that says that, chucking it on the door... It's an instant breath of relief"

The Sensory Reality Most Spaces Ignore

The coworking industry talks endlessly about community and connection, but rarely about the basic sensory realities that determine whether someone can actually work in a space.

Aidan's description of becoming a "human decibel metre" reveals something most space operators never consider: neurodivergent people often develop hyperawareness of environmental factors that neurotypical people filter out automatically.

The hum of the fridge. The flicker of LED lights. The acoustic bounce of conversations across open spaces.

These aren't preferences—they're access needs. When Aidan says, "the space itself kind of makes or breaks whether I do want to come back," he's describing the difference between a space that enables work and one that creates barriers.

The solution isn't complex: create sensory gradients across your space. Quiet zones for deep focus.

Moderate stimulation areas for collaboration. Dynamic spaces for social energy. As Aidan puts it, "different brains and different work modes require different inputs."

Most coworking spaces are designed for one type of brain—the neurotypical brain that can filter distractions and adapt to various environments. Inclusive design means recognising that many brilliant, productive people need different conditions to do their best work.

Beyond Rainbow Stickers: The "Nothing About Us, Without Us" Problem

The most damaging aspect of performative inclusion isn't that it's ineffective—it's that it actively excludes the very people it claims to support while making everyone else feel good about their inclusive efforts.

"Nothing about queer people with other queer people involved in creating those policies or those events that are supposed to celebrate them," Aidan observes.

This fundamental flaw—designing inclusion without including the people who experience exclusion—creates policies that prioritise the comfort of the majority rather than addressing actual barriers.

Real inclusion requires what Aidan calls "meaningfully consulting people"—not just inviting them to provide input, but being willing to change based on what they share.

The difference between tokenism and genuine consultation is simple: does their presence shape the outcome, or just decorate the process?

For coworking operators, this means moving beyond diversity theatre to actual structural change. It means recognising that the people who've been excluded often have the clearest vision of what inclusion actually requires.

The Policy Trap: Writing Rules for the Wrong People

Here's the uncomfortable truth Aidan reveals: most inclusion policies are designed to manage the majority's comfort, rather than creating genuine access for marginalised people.

When policies prioritise avoiding offence rather than ensuring everyone's participation, they miss the point entirely. "

Actual inclusion asks a much different question," Aidan explains—not "how do we avoid making anyone uncomfortable?’ but ‘what do the people most affected by exclusion need to thrive here?"

This shift in perspective changes everything. Instead of rules about appropriate behaviour, you get systems that centre the needs of people who've been left out.

Instead of diversity training that teaches everyone to be more sensitive, you get structural changes that remove barriers.

The policy question becomes: are we building systems that enable participation, or are we building systems that manage potential conflicts?

Show Don't Tell: Culture in Real-Time Moments

The most powerful insight Aidan offers isn't about grand gestures or comprehensive policies—it's about small, real-time moments that reveal a space's true culture.

"It's definitely how people see staff navigate conflict or corrections in real time," he observes.

When someone uses the wrong pronoun, do staff model respectful correction without drama? When feedback i...