Keynote listening
Our keynote listener, Malaki Patterson, offered us a powerful set of reflections on the day.
One of the most striking themes today has been the tension between data and lived experience.
This tension first emerged in the discussions about tree equity in Gloucester. The data clearly shows the disparity in green space, but it's the lived experience of communities - their stories, their challenges, their resilience - that helps us understand what that actually means for people's lives.
Relating it to my experience, growing up in Gloucester, I’ve experienced firsthand how statistics and data didn't always tell the full story of the community I grew up in. On paper, certain areas might have been labelled as 'deprived' or 'disadvantaged', but these metrics miss the incredible strength, creativity, and resilience that exist there. I remember how my first interactions in music came from me and my friends coming together – working on music with limited equipment in my bedroom, building music platforms, developing talent - None of this grassroots creativity and community spirit would have shown up in traditional data measures, yet it was the foundation of what would become a thriving local music scene.
While data might tell us about useful things unemployment rates or income levels, it often misses the rich social capital and creative energy that can transform communities. What spreadsheets categorise as 'deprivation' might actually be home to powerful networks of mutual support and artistic innovation.
I was also struck by the statistic that two-thirds of collected data goes unused in analytics. How do we ensure the data we collect actively drives decision-making and improves outcomes. We need to ask ourselves: are we collecting data because we've always done it that way, or because it genuinely helps us understand and improve our impact?
The session ‘Can data change policy to improve equity?’ delivered by Barnwood Trust and GCC was particularly interesting of their partnership and approach. One of the things were mentioned about collecting data was “if it's not useful for you, it's not useful for us". I think this challenges us to think differently about our approach to data. Instead of starting with what we want to measure, perhaps we need to start with what communities want to change, and then work backwards to understand what data would actually help achieve that change. This way, we ensure that every piece of information we collect has purpose and potential for impact.
I heard discussions about local context during the Active Gloucestershire session, particularly around how we understand and measure inequity across Gloucestershire's diverse geography. While our standard metrics might show higher deprivation in urban Gloucester, they often miss the invisible barriers faced by young people in rural areas like the Forest of Dean.
When we layer different types of data together, we start to see a more complete picture. In Gloucester city, we might see overlapping data points around income levels, lack of green space, and limited cultural infrastructure. But somewhere like the Forest of Dean, the data tells a different story - one of transport poverty, digital exclusion, and rural isolation from opportunities. Yet traditional measurement frameworks often use the same metrics across both areas, missing these crucial differences.
What's particularly interesting is how today's discussions revealed that you can find inequity anywhere depending on which lens you're using. For instance, the Cotswolds, often seen as affluent in traditional data sets, faces significant challenges around youth isolation and access to services. This challenges us to think more carefully about how we collect and interpret data across different geographical contexts.
Most importantly, we need to ensure our data collection methods actually help us understand and address these local nuances rather than obscuring them. This might mean combining quantitative data with stronger qualitative insights from communities, ensuring we're not just measuring what's easy to count, but what actually matters in each local context.
As I close my reflections I’ve been struck by a powerful parallel. When communities are repeatedly asked to complete surveys without seeing tangible change, it's like being invited to share your story but never getting to read the final chapter. Today has challenged me to think differently about how we approach data.
Perhaps the real question isn't 'What data do we need to collect?' but rather 'What change are we trying to create?' Instead of starting with spreadsheets and surveys, what if we started with community ambitions and worked backwards? What if we measured success not by what we can count, but by what actually counts?
We've heard today that two-thirds of collected data goes unused. Yet every time we ask communities to share their experiences, we're making a promise - an implicit commitment that their input will lead to meaningful change. Are we keeping that promise? Are we turning data into action, or just adding to the noise?
I leave you with these 3 questions:
When you next collect data, ask yourself. Who is this really serving?
What stories are hidden beneath the spreadsheets?
How might you combine the power of numbers with the wisdom of lived experience?