Impact of broken trust in community projects

Why Small Developers Build Big Trust When people think about development, the image that comes to mind is usually big: big projects, big firms, big capital. But in many neighborhoods, especially legacy Black communities, bigger is not better. Because when trust has been broken by displacement, disinvestment, and decades of promises that never materialized, it’s often small developers who can begin to rebuild it. The Trust Gap Development is not just about financing and construction. It’s about relationships. In too many communities, “development” has meant: • Homes bulldozed in the name of urban renewal • Promises of jobs or amenities that never showed up • Rising property taxes that forced out long-time residents That history lingers. And when a new project comes in with glossy renderings but no real connection to the neighborhood, people feel the distance. Trust isn’t built with a slide deck. It’s built on the ground. Why Small Developers Matter Small-scale and emerging developers are uniquely positioned to bridge this gap. Here’s why: • Proximity. Small developers are more likely to live in or near the communities they build in. They share the same schools, grocery stores, and sidewalks. That proximity breeds accountability. • Flexibility. Without the pressure of 300-unit deals, small developers can pursue projects that fit the block, a duplex here, a corner store renovation there. These incremental moves feel less like disruption and more like repair. • Relationships. Trust is built face-to-face. Smaller developers often know the residents, listen to the stories, and design projects in conversation with the community instead of in isolation. In short: big developers might bring capital. But small developers bring credibility. What This Could Unlock If cities and institutions empowered small developers at scale, we could see: • More housing delivered in places that big developers overlook • Incremental, context-sensitive projects that blend into neighborhoods rather than erase them • Development led by people of color, women, and first-generation builders who reflect the communities they serve This isn’t about pitting big against small. Both are needed. But when it comes to repairing trust in legacy communities, the work starts small. The Call to Action If we want equitable development, we can’t just chase big numbers and big deals. We have to invest in the people doing the small, steady, relationship-driven work of building trust. Because in communities where trust has been broken, sometimes the most radical thing we can do is build small. What’s one way your city or institution could better support small-scale developers?

Opinion: Why Risk and Governance Must Be Front and Centre in First Nations Leadership By Nicole Brown There’s been a renewed interest in good governance and best practice across First Nations organisations — and rightly so. As the stakes get higher, so too must our standards. Whether we’re managing land, culture, community services or enterprise, the risks we face are real. But perhaps none more so than the risk to reputation when transparency and accountability are lacking, and community trust begins to erode. In our cultural context, reputation isn’t just about public image — it’s about the strength of our relationships. When trust is broken, it doesn’t just impact one board meeting or one funding decision. It sends shockwaves through generations. Our Elders lose confidence, our young people turn away, and the very fabric of our community weakens. We must be honest about where things have gone wrong. Closed-door decisions. Infrequent or inaccessible reporting. Community voices sidelined. Poor handling of conflict and cultural obligations. These issues aren’t just governance failures — they’re risks that, left unchecked, threaten the legitimacy of our leadership. Strong governance in the First Nations space means more than balancing budgets or following policy. It means embedding cultural governance alongside Western systems. It means making decisions that are accountable to our people — and delivering those decisions in ways that make sense to mob. It means elevating transparency as a cultural value, not just a corporate one. Risk management is not a tick-box process. It’s about anticipating harm — to reputation, relationships, and long-term impact — and taking action early. It’s about creating safe pathways for feedback and ensuring there are clear mechanisms for the community to raise concerns and see them addressed. Accountability, when done right, is empowering. It reminds us who we serve. It strengthens our legitimacy. And it makes us better leaders — not weaker ones. The greatest risk facing our organisations isn’t running out of funding. It’s running out of community faith. It’s time we raise the bar — not because government tells us to, but because our people deserve it. It’s time to create governance systems that reflect who we are, where we come from, and where we want to go. Systems built on truth-telling, responsibility, and care. Because real leadership is not about power — it’s about trust. And trust must be earned every single day.

Had a tough conversation last week. A long-time Pavilion member told me I'd broken his trust.  When you run a community, there are going to be lots of people that love what you do and lots of people that… don’t.  Here’s what I’ve learned about having difficult customer conversations. FIRST, SOME CLARIFICATION He was right. On the substance of the feedback, he was right.  He was also angry. And… sort of nasty. He'd been with us since the early days. Contributed ideas. Showed up. Built relationships. Mentored some of the younger folks who were up and coming.  Then we got bigger. Changed things. Made promises we didn't keep. He felt forgotten. At the same time there was an edge to his comments that felt almost masochistic. So what do you do when someone is sharing useful feedback but doing it in such a way they’re sort of acting like an asshole. Step 1: Don’t debate Not my natural instinct.  I can get quite defensive and want to defend myself. Often, your angry customers are sharing something that is explicitly not true. And they’re unfair. And… It doesn’t matter Because we're not here to score points. We’re here to listen. Step 2: Find the signal Once you know that you’re not in a pissing contest and you can stabilize your fight or flight instinct, you can get to work. What’s being said that’s true? What’s being said that’s useful? You don’t lose anything by simply working hard to find the pieces of feedback that are relevant and accurate. Step 3: Be grateful The hardest feedback to hear is the feedback that's true. Trust takes years to build. Seconds to break. And forever to repair. But here's what I've learned about trust and feedback: The people who care enough to tell you when you've failed them are gold. Most people just leave. They ghost. They talk behind your back. They smile and nod and disappear. The ones who sit across from you and say "You broke my trust"? They are giving you a gift. They're saying: "I still care enough to be angry." They're saying: "I want this to work." They're saying: "Fix this." Every leader breaks trust sometimes. We make decisions that hurt people. We prioritize wrong. We forget our promises. The question isn't whether you'll break trust. The question is what you do when someone tells you. Do you defend? Do you deflect? Do you justify? Or do you shut up and listen? Trust isn't built in the big moments. It's built in the response to failure. In the willingness to hear hard truths. In the commitment to do better. Not just say better. Do better. I’ve made my share of mistakes over the years and the single biggest thing I’m working on is the ability to listen without defensiveness. And to get to work incorporating that feedback on the journey to improvement. Every single day.

The newly announced CDISC membership model is causing concern and, after closer examination, even shock. From 2026 onward, non-members will lose access to machine-readable digital standards and more. Only PDF versions will remain publicly available. This shift risks taking us backward: from digital enablement to static documents. While member organizations retain full access, the burden falls entirely on non-members, often independent contributors and small companies. Many of the open-source tools supporting CDISC implementation depend on digital standards. Are we heading toward a two-class system in our industry? One that can fully benefit from digital transformation, and one that cannot? And then there is CORE - the CDISC’s “open-source alternative” for validation becoming a members-only feature. With this shift, trust in CDISC’s openness is under pressure. Many in the community contributed in good faith, believing in transparency, collaboration, and shared progress. CDISC relies heavily on volunteer engagement. A break in trust will have consequences. To be clear: the work CDISC employees deliver is highly valuable. We would not have made the same progress based on volunteers alone. And yes, sustainable funding models are needed.   But do they require limiting access to the very foundation of digital enablement? Are there other options like sponsorships, tiered support, transparent investment models?   We need to ask ourselves: how do we want the future of our industry to look? Open, collaborative, inclusive? Or limited to those who can afford access?   This is a moment for reflection, and ideally, for rethinking. Our community is diverse with different strengths, resources, and roles. Together, we can find better models that support both sustainability and openness.   #CDISC #CORE #OpenSource #Transparency #Collaboration #DigitalStandards  

🏆 From Development Projects to Community-Led Safeguarding: A Lesson in Trust and Ownership 🫂 🛟 Working and belonging to one of the world’s poorest countries in the World 🌍 , where development projects are both a necessity and a paradox—capable of bringing transformation yet also deep social disruption—has been one of the most eye-opening experiences of my career. In recent years, I have had the privilege of leading efforts to implement complaint and grievance mechanisms in large-scale development projects—roads, energy, transport—ensuring they uphold a survivor-centered approach. But more than that, I wanted to place communities in the driver’s seat of these mechanisms ! I’ll never forget a conversation that shifted everything. ➡️ A community member looked at our complaint box and asked, “Why would I use this? No one has ever answered our concerns.” ➡️ That question cut deep. And it led to an even more powerful one from our team: “What would make you use it?” ➡️ The answer was simple yet profound: “We want a key. We want to open the boxes together.” That single moment sparked ✨ a transformation. Suddenly, the grievance mechanism was no longer ours—it was theirs. Community members organized committees, included the most vulnerable voices, and ensured their concerns were heard and addressed. It became more than a system; it became a movement of genuine participation. This experience reaffirmed something I deeply believe: 💡 Protocols and flowcharts look great on paper, but without the real involvement of those most affected—without their hands shaping the entry points, the feedback loops, the monitoring processes—it’s just a hollow investment. Safeguarding is not about ticking boxes. It’s about trust, shared power, and ensuring no voice goes unheard. And when communities are given true ownership, they don’t just engage—they lead. And that changes everything. #Safeguarding #PSEAH #CommunityLedDevelopment #SocialImpact #SurvivorCenteredApproach #DevelopmentProjects

Trust collapsed after one missed deadline They delivered millions in savings together. Then one critical project failed. I watched my client Sarah's (have seeked their permission and changed their name for confidentiality) team transform from celebrating quarterly wins to exchanging terse emails within weeks. During our first coaching session, they sat at opposite ends of the table, avoiding eye contact. "We used to finish each other's sentences," Sarah confided. "Now we can barely finish a meeting without tension." Sound familiar? This frustration isn't about skills—it's about broken trust. In The Thin Book of Trust, Charles Feltman provides the framework that helped us diagnose what was happening. Trust, he explains, isn't mysterious—it breaks down into four measurable elements: ✅ Care – Sarah's team stopped checking in on each other's wellbeing ✅ Sincerity – Their communications became guarded and political ✅ Reliability – Missed deadlines created a cycle of lowered expectations ✅ Competence – They began questioning each other's abilities after setbacks The breakthrough came when I had them map which specific element had broken for each relationship. The pattern was clear: reliability had cracked first, then everything else followed. Three months later, this same team presented their recovery strategy to leadership. Their transformation wasn't magic—it came from deliberately rebuilding trust behaviors, starting with keeping small promises consistently. My video walks you through this exact framework. Because when teams fracture, the question isn't "Why is everyone so difficult?" but rather: "Which trust element needs rebuilding first—and what's my next concrete step?" Which trust element (care, sincerity, reliability, competence) do you find breaks down most often in struggling teams? #humanresources #workplace #team #performance #cassandracoach

Building independence in waste management (why top-down doesn't work) There are two schools of thought in waste management. 1. Arrive at a community and tell them how to manage their waste. Procure infrastructure and train people to run machinery. Follow a blueprint or a checklist. When it's completed, hand everything over (great photo opportunity!) and move on to the next community. OR 2. Listen to the community about their culture, their priorities and concerns. Co-design a waste management system that is affordable and easy to manage. Avoid unnecessary machinery and make sure all equipment is available locally. Take time, be supportive, help problem solve, build resilience and confidence. We've witnessed both these approaches. I understand why some corporate donors and international consultants like top-down. 😃 "It's scalable." 😃 "We've had enough small pilot projects, let's do something BIG." But when a community doesn't own its waste management system, when it's been brought in by outsiders to fit an imaginary formula, the risks of failure are much bigger. "Let's do something big" introduces a huge risk to the community. And when it goes wrong? When spare machinery parts are stuck in customs for months, the leaking roof is causing electric shocks from the conveyor belts, the tricycles have broken down and there is a yard full of broken wheelie bins... then what? The "top down" folk are long gone. The community is left with a white elephant facility they can't afford to run. Local families have fallen out. Trust is lost. Back to square one (or -5). I do understand why people want top-down to work. Why they are fed up with small projects and want to do something big. But the truth is, waste management is a local service, run by local people. They need to own it. To overcome the challenges and keep the momentum. To recognise a job well done. And be proud of what they've achieved. No outsider can do that. It has to come from within. Tired of supporting small projects? Then support a replicable bottom-up approach. Support community ownership. Fund people solving their own problems. It's actually cheaper. It lasts longer. And it's more respectful, damnit. #JustTransition #WasteManagement #CommuntyOwnership #Replicable #Affordable #Sustainable

🌍 Propose a project without Social Impact Assessment (SIA)? You’re risking more than you think. Think it's just another formality? Let’s unpack why every planner needs SIA in their toolbox. From avoiding legal pitfalls to building stronger, more resilient communities, SIA isn't optional—it's essential. Urban planning is about more than structures; it’s about people. Done right, SIA bridges the gap between blueprints and community well-being. Here's how: Have you ever wondered why some urban projects face backlash despite their best intentions? Ignoring social impacts can: • Displace communities, causing deep-rooted dissatisfaction. • Fuel conflict instead of fostering cooperation. • Lead to public resistance and missed opportunities. Enter Social Impact Assessment (SIA)—the key to inclusive, sustainable projects. With tools like ArcGIS, planners worldwide are integrating SIA to: ✅ Identify potential impacts (good and bad). ✅ Enhance community trust and engagement. ✅ Ensure every project reflects real-world needs and solutions. Here’s how an effective SIA process works: • Stakeholder Engagement: Involve local voices from day one. • Impact Identification: Assess economic, cultural, and social risks. • Ongoing Monitoring: Adapt and improve with feedback during the project 🔍 Case study: In Jyväskylä, Finland, integrating SIA led to a housing project that not only respected community feedback but became a model for social sustainability. Contrast that with Detroit, where poor execution overlooked historical context—resulting in inequality and public pushback. 8 Steps to Master Social Impact Assessment: 1️⃣ Scope key social issues early. 2️⃣ Conduct baseline studies on the community. 3️⃣ Identify all impacts (positive & negative). 4️⃣ Evaluate outcomes with stakeholders. 5️⃣ Create actionable mitigation plans. 6️⃣ Monitor impacts over time. 7️⃣ Transparently report progress. 8️⃣ Build community trust through feedback. 💡 "Urban planning without social responsibility isn’t planning—it’s risk-taking. Let’s plan for cities that genuinely work for everyone." What’s your experience with Social Impact Assessment? Share challenges, tips, or success stories below! 👇 // ✨ This is my final post of 2024! Wishing you a happy New Year and a wonderful start to 2025 in advance. Thank you for being part of my journey here. I hope to share more valuable and practical content with you in the year ahead, learn more from you, and build deeper, more meaningful connections on here.

Building trust is more important than building technology. When we began Commonlands work in rural Uganda, our first instinct was to focus on the tech — the maps, the certificates, the microloan platform. It made sense. Technology could scale solutions faster, streamline processes, and offer transparency. But without trust, even the most advanced tools are useless. Many had seen outsiders arrive with promises before—only for those promises to vanish, leaving communities worse off. Why should they trust us? We had to earn it. That meant showing up—not just once or twice, but consistently. → Sitting under trees and listening to their stories. → Respecting their skepticism and their pace. → Engaging local leaders to vouch for our intentions. Over time, we saw something remarkable. People began opening up. They shared their stories and their challenges. Only then did the technology become meaningful—it became a tool they could see themselves using, not something imposed on them. This is what made us achieve an incredible milestone: ➜ 2,500 plots documented. ➜ 99% loan repayment rate. Then I realized that trust is slow to build but incredibly fragile. And when you’re working with communities, it’s non-negotiable. Technology might be exciting, but relationships are what sustain progress. Today, every certificate we issue and every loan we facilitate is built on a foundation of trust—not just innovation. And that, I’ve learned, is the only way real change happens. Thoughts? Do you believe a lack of trust can impact the success of a project? Follow 👉 Darius and repost! #communitydevelopment #trustbuilding #socialimpact #sustainability #changemaking