On bunting, food banks, and what really matters

Whilst it is perfectly reasonable to have opinions about bunting — and I’m sure valid arguments can be made both for and against — it was not this decorative diversion that caught my attention in a recent news article. No, what stood out to me was something altogether more troubling, nestled within the quotes of an individual who had recently stood for local election.

Among the rhetoric was this line: “I had to deal with their parish council where they felt a soup kitchen and food bank was a suitable alternative to a shop where people can have actual choice.”

That, to me, said far more than anything about bunting ever could. In those few words lies an attitude I find deeply disquieting. Is that really where we are — that supporting a food bank is framed as some sort of lesser, inferior option, a poor substitute for “proper” retail? Is this genuinely reflective of public sentiment? I sincerely hope not. Because if that’s the majority view, then I’m proud to be an outlier.

What the article should have focused on — indeed, what should have been headline news — is the simple, vital truth that a local parish council chose to back a food bank. That decision deserves recognition and applause. It reflects a commitment to compassion and a clear-eyed understanding of the hardships facing many families today. It was not an act of settling for second-best, but of responding to need with decency.

Let us not forget: the people who are able to exercise “choice” in a local shop are also, more often than not, the people with cars, broadband connections, the means to shop online or travel elsewhere. For them, a shop is one of many options. But for those relying on a food bank, such choices are a luxury far out of reach.

There’s an old saying: “Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day; teach a man to fish, and he eats for a lifetime.” I reference this not to suggest that food banks are the endpoint — far from it — but to highlight the broader issue. Food banks, in this analogy, are the fish. They are the immediate sustenance, the emergency response. What we must strive toward, collectively, are the fishing rods — the long-term solutions that empower people, address root causes, and enable genuine independence.

That is not a quick fix. It is not a neat policy lever or a soundbite. It’s hard, structural work. But in the meantime, let us be absolutely clear: food banks save lives. They are not symbols of failure, but of society stepping up when systems have let people down.

Over the past two Christmases, I’ve personally organised food bank collections for our local charity, Doorway. I’ve seen first-hand the remarkable work that Sarah and her team do, day in and day out. They bring dignity, warmth, and relief to those in crisis. And I will continue to support them for as long as they are needed — though, like them, I hope for the day they are not.

There is much to be done. And yes, from the vantage point of local leadership, the levers of national change can feel far away. But we still have a role — not just in policy, but in the tone we set, the values we uphold, and the messages we amplif

So let’s stop pretending that supporting a food bank is somehow a quaint inconvenience to village life. Let’s reject the lazy narratives that sneer at compassion. And let’s get on with the real work of helping those who need us most — not because it’s easy, but because it’s right.