This isn’t just about food. It’s about fairness, dignity, and giving communities the tools they need to support themselves

Why Community Food Organisations deserve a place in the Child of the North APPG report

Posted by Andrea Burrows, Dr Claire O’Malley, Dr Helen Moore and Professor Amelia Lake, Fuse researchers from Teesside University

Andrea Burrows, Helen Moore with other contributors at the launch of the report in parliament

Across the North of England, families are facing a dual crisis: rising food insecurity and growing food waste. In response, Community Food Organisations (CFOs) - like social supermarkets and pantries - are stepping up in powerful, community led ways. These aren’t just places to get food. They’re places of dignity, connection, and hope.

But despite their growing role, CFOs are still flying under the radar. They’re under-researched, inconsistently defined, and often left out of the bigger policy picture. That’s why they were included in the Child of the North APPG report.

What is the Child of the North APPG?

The Child of the North All-Party Parliamentary Group (APPG) is a cross-party group of MPs, peers, researchers, and practitioners working together to tackle the deep-rooted inequalities affecting children in the North of England. From poverty and poor health to educational disadvantage, the APPG is committed to finding evidence-based solutions that give every child a fair start in life.

Backed by research from the Northern Health Science Alliance (NHSA), Health Equity North and the N8 Research Partnership, the APPG has already produced influential reports on the cost of living, education, and health. Now, it’s time to shine a light on food, and the role CFOs can play in transforming communities and the lives of children.

A different kind of food support

Unlike traditional food banks, CFOs operate more like supermarkets, offering surplus food at low prices. Often delivered in a familiar, retail-style setting, this model not only reduces food waste but also gives people choice and dignity in how they access food. It’s a far cry from the stigma that can come with emergency food aid.

Research shows that this approach better meets the needs of people experiencing food insecurity. It empowers them, rather than making them feel like recipients of charity.

One model, many faces

CFOs are incredibly diverse. Some are membership-based and serve specific groups; others are open to all. Some offer wraparound support like job training or help with household income; others focus purely on food. This flexibility is a strength, it not only allows CFOs to adapt to local needs, but it also makes it hard to evaluate their impact or share what works best.

"Community Food Organisations... aren’t just places to get food. They're places of dignity, connection, and hope."

A recent review led by by colleague Claire O'Malley (currently under review) found that there’s no single definition of a social supermarket. And many operate informally, relying on local relationships and community goodwill to source food. This makes them agile, but also vulnerable.

Why now?

Since the pandemic, food insecurity has increased, especially in the North. But so too has the rise of CFOs. In the North East and North Cumbria, there are now 67 social supermarkets. In the North East town of Middlesbrough alone, the number of Eco Shops, the dominant social supermarket model, has jumped from nine in 2021 to 28 in 2025.

This growth shows just how much communities value these spaces. But it also raises urgent questions:

• How can we make these models sustainable?
• What support do they need to thrive?
• How do they fit into the bigger picture of public health and food policy?

Why the Child of the North report matters

Including CFOs in the report will:

• Raise national awareness of their role and potential.
• Create shared definitions and standards to help evaluate impact.
• Highlight best practices and support scaling of successful models.
• Ensure CFOs are recognised as part of the wider food and health system - not just a stopgap.

This isn’t just about food. It’s about fairness, dignity, and giving communities the tools they need to support themselves. CFOs are already making a difference. With the right recognition and support, they could transform community support with accessible, socially accessible methods of community aid.

About the authors:

Andrea Burrows is a Research Associate at Teesside University and a Fuse Associate member

Dr Claire O'Malley is a Research Associate at Teesside University and a Fuse Associate member

Helen Moore is an Associate Professor at Teesside University and a Fuse Associate member

Amelia Lake is Professor of Public Health Nutrition at Teesside University, Deputy Director of Fuse, the Centre for Translational Research in Public Health, a dietitian and public health nutritionist.

The tickle monster, the exhausted academic and the Select Committee

Posted by Dr Sophie Wickham, Wellcome Trust Research Fellow, Dept of Public Health & Policy, University of Liverpool

In the second instalment of our posts about giving evidence to parliament during lockdown, Dr Sophie Wickham writes about navigating work and childcare in preparation to appear before TWO committee panels.

How do you adequately prepare for what feels like the most important milestone in your academic career? In ‘The Before Time’, pre-lockdown, for me, this would have meant revising and rehearsing, collecting advice and feedback from mentors and peers – and repeating the process until I felt polished and confident. It can take hours, days even, of focus, repetition and attention to detail, to hone the take-home messages from the research, and ensure that, under pressure, they are communicated with ease. But in the early days of these ‘Strange New Times’, this usual process became untenable. Part of my mind was devoted to worrying about the future, the rest to entertaining a 3-year-old, rolling around on the floor, playing eye-spy or assuming the role of an otherworldly tickle monster. My powers of persuasion were devoted to parenthood, begging my child to try new foods – the consequence of supermarket shortages in the early days of panic-buying – or to join me on long walks, in the faint hope of a full night’s sleep, so far elusive. Navigating a full day’s childcare and snatching some hours of work at dawn and dusk, naturally my productivity plummeted – and with it my ability to remain engaged with my work, and to focus on the task ahead. 

What was I trying to prepare for? Two things:

1. The All-Party Parliamentary Group (APPG) on Universal Credit and Mental Health. This cross-party group brings together Members of Parliament wishing to discuss constituents’ experiences of Universal Credit, receive advice and support from various agencies, share best practice, and monitor this critical policy as it is rolled out. On 28 February, the Lancet Public Health had published the online edition of an article I had submitted with colleagues at the University of Liverpool, on the mental health impacts of Universal Credit. It had immediately been picked up by the APPG secretariat and, that same day, I had received an invitation to speak before the group. With lockdown came a hiatus in all physical oral evidence presentations, and the event had been deferred and moved online. As it turned out, the new date was only a week after what was to be a second daunting event.
2. The House of Commons Work and Pension Select Committee (SC) on Universal Credit and the wait for first payment. The Select Committee had opened an inquiry into the matter and asked for written evidence. Findings from these committees are reported to the Commons, printed, and published on the Parliament website. The government then has 60 days to respond to the committee's recommendations. Just as lockdown descended, I and other researchers had submitted written evidence, combining our quantitative findings (Wickham et al 2020) with robust qualitative findings (Cheetham et al 2019). As first author on the quantitative article, I had been invited to give oral evidence, alongside Dr Mandy Cheetham, the qualitative lead (read about Mandy’s experience here).

All-Party Parliamentary Groups, senior colleagues in my Department had informed me, were relatively relaxed and involved 10-minute presentations by each panel member, followed by MP’s questions. The entire meeting would last an hour. Colleagues that have made the trip to parliament to present evidence to APPGs in person described the experience as positive – though there can be interruptions, when MPs are called to vote on bills. Select Committees are much more formal. You attend as a ‘witness’, answering questions posed by a small group of MPs – questions which you do not know in advance. Any evidence provided may be translated into recommendations from the Select Committee, to which the government must respond: the potential for evidence-based impact is huge. In short, I was terrified.

I knew that opportunities to speak directly to these committees are rare. I had been handed a brilliant opportunity, and felt the urgency and weight of responsibility in my whole body. I was told to “practice, practice, practice”. But as with many parents, the days leading up to the Select Committee, and all the days of lockdown that had gone before, were spent working at the fringes of my child’s waking hours, before 7am and after 8pm. I was able to lock in some practice interviews with senior colleagues at the tail-end of their working days or family time, and one colleague and friend spent an evening listening as I practiced, helping to fine-tune my answers.

To my relief, a few days before I was due to give evidence, my childminder resumed part-time work. For both events, I was able to fully concentrate on the task at hand. There are some advantages to providing evidence remotely:

1. You can be in your PJs from the waist down.
2. You can have notes… Notes all around you – on screens, walls, floor – anything that might catch your eye and support you in making your argument. 
3. You can do rapid research, if needed. 
4. It might feel less intimidating – after all, you are in your house, what’s the worst that can happen? 
5. Though I am dismayed by the mere existence of a “touch up my appearance” feature on Zoom, I absolutely used it. I found that it negated the need for make-up - war paint that I reserve for interviews and weddings. 
6. The simple logistical advantages. No need for travel or childcare arrangements, and, in the case of the APPG, MPs were not running off to vote on other matters and you have their undivided attention. 

I did not capitalise fully. I was in work clothes, head to toe, and my sparse notes did not obscure the screen. I felt self-conscious: seeing yourself, and the background to your everyday life in this context can be disconcerting. There is the distinct impression of giving others a window into your life that you may not want to share. But ultimately, the greatest disadvantage was the lack of preparation time. Would this be obvious, and impact how my evidence was interpreted?

The Select Committee was on the 17 June. Some initial sound problems were dealt with prior to live streaming. You are asked in advance to ensure that no one else is using your internet, and to power down any devices that access the internet, to ensure that all bandwidth is reserved for the Zoom call. When joining the call, I could see the Chair, Labour MP Stephen Timms, with a few socially distanced colleagues, in a parliamentary room. Joining remotely were the three other witnesses and other MPs, though these MPs were visible only when asking a question. I found this to be a challenge, as I tend to feed off body language and facial expressions. It felt a bit like a PhD viva, albeit an odd one. There was the same need to defend and justify my work, and the stakes were high – in this case the potential policy consequences. In the end, I felt as though I made my points. A few answers were long-winded, and I felt flustered on occasion – always a danger when you don’t know the questions in advance. When it was over, I mainly felt that more time was needed, given the depth and breadth of evidence on the topic.

The APPG was one week later. As anticipated, it was much more relaxed, but there were also many more MPs on the call, all working from home. In this committee, all questions to witnesses were presented in the chat feature. As a result, there was time to read and re-read a question before it was asked, and time to collect your thoughts before answering – something I wish I could have done for the Select Committee. This meeting also felt brief, but there was a palpable sense that both presenters and audience were eager to understand and improve the policy at hand.

Time will tell whether the evidence presented will translate into policy change. I feel good about my efforts to contribute; participating in both committee panels has been an exceptional experience. But behind the impact, behind the evidence and beyond the research, preparing for these events and sustaining the work has felt very much like keeping up with the Joneses, and I am exhausted.

Image:

1. "Do you have a last request before you go in front of the Commons Culture Select Committee?" by Grizelda Grizlingham via University of Kent, British Cartoon Archive (Reference number: GGD0368, Published by: The Independent, 25 Oct 2012, with thanks to Copyright holder: Grizelda Grizlingham): https://archive.cartoons.ac.uk/Record.aspx?src=CalmView.Catalog&id=GGD0368&pos=80

The long and winding (and emotional) road to impact

Posted by Mandy Cheetham, Research Associate, Teesside University

Having submitted written evidence to the Work and Pensions Select Committee inquiry on the impact of the 5 week wait for Universal Credit (details here), I had not anticipated being invited to give evidence by Zoom to a panel of MPs in the midst of lockdown. The evidence submitted (available here) drew on qualitative research into the experiences of claimants in North East England (Cheetham et al 2019) and quantitative research showing the mental health impact of Universal Credit, undertaken by colleagues from Liverpool University (Wickham et al 2019). Dr Sophie Wickham and I were both invited to be part of a panel for the second evidence session. I had watched the first evidence session to see the lines of inquiry pursued, realising (with dismay) it was available live on parliament tv.

As witnesses, we had been given a broad indication of the areas on which MPs would focus their questions. These included the effects of the 5 week wait, its impact on mental health, and our thoughts on what could be done to mitigate the adverse effects. I had read and re-read our research paper, digested more recent reports and published literature and carefully prepared my responses to the anticipated questions. I had emailed colleagues in local advice organisations to see if the issues identified in the research were still relevant. I had a chat with a university colleague who had given evidence to a different committee drawing on our research on energy drinks 2 years previously. A final check that the technology worked in a test call the afternoon before and all was set.

Following advice from the friendly and efficient clerk of the committee, I had moved my laptop away from the background distractions of grandchildren’s Batman costumes and toys. I woke up early on the morning of 17 June feeling nervous with anticipation. ‘Trust you know enough’ were the calm words of advice offered by one committee official.’ ‘Stick to the evidence; be focused and don your cloak of authority’ came texted advice from a senior academic colleague with a good luck message. I have a tendency to talk too much when I’m nervous, and knew I needed to avoid waffling, so this was a helpful reminder. But I wasn’t sure I had a suitable cloak of authority handy.

In the event, the preparation paid off. I stuck to my bullet points and weaved in quotes from participants when I could. It wasn’t perfect and there’s always more to say. I’m not sure it’s possible to do justice to the harrowing experiences which had been shared by research participants, but I tried. There is a big focus in academia on impact, and I sometimes feel limited recognition of the time and multi-layered approaches needed to achieve it. Immediately after the evidence session, which lasted an hour, I was contacted by a journalist from the Independent asking about a paper I had mentioned in my evidence. Within an hour the Sun online quoted our evidence in an article supporting their campaign to make Universal Credit work.

Evidence is clearly not the only, or the most important deciding factor in the messy world of policy making. I believe we need to use a combination of political levers of influence at our disposal to affect changes when opportunities present themselves. This felt like a huge moment. The priorities and timeframes of academia and policy making do not always align. The study I was reporting grew out of embedded research with community members in Gateshead who talked about their fears about Universal Credit being rolled out in 2017, fieldwork was undertaken April – October 2018, written up and paper submitted in November 2018 and published in 2019. Following the select committee, a colleague posted links to the evidence session on the Facebook pages of organisations who had supported the research for community members to see. It felt right to let participants know what had happened.

Since 2018, we have shared the research findings at numerous conferences and with Department for Work and Pensions staff, but with limited effect. COVID-19 has prompted temporary changes to be made to Universal Credit, which will help. My experience in the shielding hub demonstrates how many families claiming Universal Credit, particularly those with children, continue to struggle with the additional costs of lockdown. Last month, Therese Coffey announced the re-instatement of conditionality requirements and sanctions, which will add to Universal Credit claimants’ stress at a time of economic insecurity, rising unemployment, unprecedented job losses, and anxiety about the future. Even a global pandemic can’t halt political will it seems.

In my view, public health is political. Lobbying and advocacy are a core part of our role, particularly when government policy has such a crucial role to play in addressing inequalities. We need to continue to highlight the harmful impacts of policy on particular groups and be part of the process of informing solutions. Researchers need to seek out these opportunities for ‘academic activism’ (Askins 2009) to help shape policy. We need to provide training and support to academics at all levels, and accept the emotional investment these efforts require. After all, the drive to impact is fuelled by emotional as well as scientific engagement with our subject matter.

Reference:

• Askins K. (2009) ‘That’s just what I do’: Placing emotion in academic activism Emotion, Space and Society doi 10.1016/j.emospa.2009.03.005

Images:

1. Screenshot taken from parliamentlive.tv: https://parliamentlive.tv/event/index/5d5e46b8-c323-4a64-8bca-53e2ed17cb4f 16/07/2020
2. Screenshot taken from The Sun website: https://www.thesun.co.uk/news/11883566/universal-credit-wait-12-weeks-severe-hardship 16/07/2020

An education in how research influences parliament, policy & practice

Guest post by Charlotte Kitchen, PhD student, Mental Health Research Centre, Durham University

It seems fitting that my first post for the Fuse Open Science Blog is about my time in the Parliamentary Office of Science and Technology (POST).

I have just returned from a three-month secondment from my PhD; this meant relocating from Durham University’s Queens Campus to POST's Westminster Offices in London. As you can imagine this was a bit of a culture shock for a country girl but it was also an amazing opportunity that I would definitely recommend to others. POST is Parliament’s in-house source of independent, balanced and accessible analysis of public policy issues from across the biological, physical and social sciences, as well as engineering and technology topic areas. POST is responsible for producing briefings (usually four page summaries of a topic) for MPs and Peers in order to place the findings of academic research on these topics into a policy context for Parliamentary use. The main mechanism for achieving this is the recruitment of POST fellows (that's me!) who are PhD students who undertake short placements with the objective of producing a briefing on a topic area of interest to Parliament.

The Parliamentary Archives

Big Ben (Elizabeth Tower) at Christmas

I was tasked with preparing a ‘POSTbrief’ on ‘selective education’ which was a responsive policy briefing based on a mini literature review. This was in reaction to the current debate on the issue and the government consultation on grammar schools, which closed in December 2016. I was required to research and write the brief, interview a range of leading academics and stakeholders, attend debates in the Houses of Commons and Lords as well as liaising with the House of Commons Education Select Committee. My PhD is in adolescent mental health so the prospect of working in a new topic area was daunting but it turned out to be a challenging and rewarding experience that has definitely improved my confidence, ability to articulate complex information and writing skills.

Whilst working at POST, I was asked to support the House of Commons Education Select Committee during the Autumn 2016 term - a lot more interesting than it sounds! I got to meet various MPs, attend a committee meeting where I was asked to brief the committee on the topic and had the opportunity to feed directly into the everyday work of Parliament. The enquiry the Committee was undertaking on the topic will report shortly. My work at POST culminated in the publication of an open-access parliamentary briefing 'Academic Evidence on Selective Secondary Education' which was circulated to MPs on the Education Select Committee and others with an interest in the area. I also had the opportunity to undertake some speech writing for an MP (under supervision, of course) just to keep things interesting!

Mr Speaker selfie

The take home message of my blog is don’t be afraid to apply for a POST fellowship - like I was! Before I applied, people said they were too competitive and it wasn’t a good idea to take time off during your PhD but three months away from your thesis is a small price to pay for the experiences I have had in the Houses of Parliament. Where else do you work where there is not one or two, but three gift shops!? One of the more surreal highlights had to be a selfie with the Rt Hon John Bercow MP, the Speaker of the House of Commons whilst attending a Christmas Carol Service. In all seriousness, this fellowship has added a parliamentary publication to my CV, provided me with much needed policy experience, opened my eyes to how research influences parliament, policy and subsequently practice. I learnt many of the practical ways you can get your research noticed: from keeping an up to date academic biography and profile, publishing open-access so non-academic institutions can access your work, producing blogs to make your work more accessible to non-specialists and utilising social media to publicise your research.

The whole experience at POST is one I will not forget in a hurry and it was made possible through funding from the British Psychological Society; the closing date for this year’s fellowship scheme is 31 August 2017. There are other funders who have different deadlines throughout the year such as research councils, societies and charities. For more established academics there are also opportunities to work more closely with parliament that are worth considering.

And finally, the obligatory tourist shot...

Me and my mum