Breakfast with Bristol24/7: Caroline Duckworth

The Society of Merchant Venturers has long been accused of running Bristol through a secret network of the city’s richest men. As the organisation seeks to shake off its reputation, Louis Emanuel meets its first female boss.

For more than 450 years the Society of Merchant Venturers has been the embodiment of the city’s establishment.

The one-time owners of the old port, long term custodians of the Downs and all-round fingers-in-pies group of businessmen have spent much of their existence pulling strings from their private members’ club in a mansion on an exclusive Clifton street.

To go straight out there and call them all shape-shifting lizards would be wholly irresponsible, of course. Is it more suitable to suggest they may be closer to a kind of Bilderberg Group for Bristol, where money and influence has mixed with power and governance since John Cabot was sent to discover North America?

No. And that’s because that’s all in the past. The Society of Merchant Venturers is modernising; haven’t you heard?

A new, open, inclusive and transparent path has been set in the last decade or so to drag the group out of a secretive network of white men and into a fit-for-purpose modern-day philanthropic group representing and promoting Bristol. At least that’s how the press releases go.

And to spearhead this new era, who better than the first female to lead its executive since the guild was first formed in 1552.

Caroline Duckworth, 55, is sat on a small table overlooking the pool at the Lido in Clifton when we meet for breakfast nine months into her role as the society’s CEO.

Caroline orders a pot of tea and a bowl of granola, yogurt and dried fruit which come swiftly with the smoked salmon, cream cheese and sourdough toast.

Born in Scotland, she began her working life running off-licences in Edinburgh, a baptism of fire into a career in retail which started in earnest at Habitat.

After taking time off to have two children with her husband Jonathan, Caroline entered into the charity sector running courses in leadership.

After climbing to managing director, she was made redundant in 2012, moving to Quartet Community Foundation where she worked across the city until she was headhunted by the “Merchants”, as she calls them. Scary thought, I know.

It wasn’t an easy choice signing up, she explains enthusiastically, neglecting her tea and granola, soon to be cold and soggy.

“When they contacted me I just thought, ‘I’m curious…but I’ll only have a conversation if you’re serious about change’,” she says. “If they just want a woman to tick a box, I’m not interested.”

Numerous meetings (with eight Merchants in total) later, Caroline agreed to the role. “I just didn’t want any tokenism, but I did think it was a real opportunity to work with an organisation that is doing some really interesting and amazing things,” she says.

One of the reasons she joined up was to help change the perception of who the Merchants are and what they do, she adds.

Education, care of the elderly and “social investment” are the mainstays of the society nowadays. Caroline proudly explains that 4,000 young people are educated through their growing portfolio of academy primary and secondary schools, and 2,500 elderly people are cared for through their support for the St Monica Trust and the Merchants’ own almshouses.

She adds that the society’s latest mission is helping create the Bristol and Bath Regional Capital, a social fund which has recently raised £1 million for South Bristol Sport, which will be used to refurbish football pitches and the like.

Overall there’s £7 million in the bank ready to be issued as grants and about £226 million tied up in an investment fund to support their care homes. The investments include property across the UK, most of which is agricultural, but some of which is sold for development.

But for all the promotion Caroline is doing of her new employers, she admits that internally the organisation still has a long way to go.

“It needs to evolve and change with the times,” she says. “We don’t have enough diversity in our membership, we don’t have enough women and we don’t have enough,” she pauses and corrects herself, “we don’t have any ethnic diversity.”

The current list of members is dotted with CBEs and MBEs, and includes the chairmen and managing directors of Wessex Water, Thatchers Cider and England Cricket Board.

George Ferguson was a member before becoming mayor, fueling dozens of conspiracy theories.

Only six out of 74 of the current members are not white men. Membership is capped at 80 (enough for a decent banquet), and there are currently six spaces which the organisation’s search group and membership committee are looking to fill.

“We’re looking for a diversity of viewpoints, background and everything,” Caroline says, nursing her tea. “But, it [diversity] is not a buzzword. It’s not about going to look for one woman or one black person or whatever, it’s about getting true diversity which I think is really important.”

So, what happens when you’ve been chosen, agreed and paid up your £1,000 a year membership? Is it straight to the spanking with paddles at the Merchants’ Hall?

“No, nothing like that,” Caroline replies calmly, batting off the joke with a swift response while resting her tea on the saucer. “Never happened and doesn’t happen today,” she dismisses.

“Honestly, there are no odd practices. There are just some very nice dinners and events which are perfectly pleasant.”

I get the feeling she’s heard it all before as the woman whose job it is to continue to demystify what is still essentially a private members’ club.

“My belief is that it is about telling people what we are actually doing,” she adds later, speaking of her increasing number of public engagements. “Through that, people start to say, ‘oh I didn’t know that or didn’t understand that’, or ‘oh gosh, that’s interesting’.”

She says some people’s preconceptions and “conspiracy theories in their heads” will always mean they’ll find it hard to change their mind about the Merchants. “For me it’s not about trying to justify our existence or argue with anybody about what their view is,” she adds. “This is the reality of what we are actually doing.”

Illustration by Anna Higgie

Read more: Breakfast with Bristol24/7: Peter Sanchez-Iglesias