Who’s That Trip-Trapping Across My Bridge?

In recent weeks, I’ve been accused—not once, but twice—of trolling. And funnily enough, by the same group of people. But let’s get one thing straight: having a difference of opinion does not mean you’re being trolled. Unfortunately, in the housing sector, there’s a pattern of playing the victim while simultaneously blaming others—a topic I’ve covered extensively on the GreenSquareAccord residents' support website.

Disagreements are valuable. They drive change, improve services, and challenge the status quo. We’re told that debate and discussion should be welcomed. But the moment you challenge certain narratives or question the way things are done, the response is often, I’m being trolled!—which simply isn’t true. And in recent weeks and months, that accusation has been thrown around unfairly. So, let’s talk about it.

The Customer Service Cost

This all started when I was looking for guests for my Housing Sector podcast to discuss an important topic: customer service as an expense. While it’s crucial to scrutinise every pound spent, my argument was simple—as the podcast showed, I fully believe in customer service training. But great customer service at the initial point of contact means little if the rest of the process fails.

If I call about a leaking tap and have a fantastic experience with the customer service team, it’s meaningless if the repairs team can’t fix the issue, if there are long delays, or if I have to keep chasing up the job. That first positive interaction is wasted if the wider system can’t back it up. I even wrote a blog about this.

With that in mind, I reached out to those providing customer service training to housing associations. I wanted to understand how real value could be generated from their services. I wrote the blog, I won’t name the person who seemed to take offence to this—you can find them easily enough if you scroll through the LinkedIn comments.

This person strikes me as what I’d call social media happy—constantly posting about their own virtues and successes or jumping into discussions just to form alliances. LinkedIn is full of people who use the platform this way, and to some extent, that’s what it was designed for.

Have you ever gone on a weekend away with friends, only to see their social media posts afterward and think, Where was I when all this public display of affection was happening? All I saw was them snapping at each other all weekend! This kind of false front—people curating the best version of themselves—is everywhere on social media, and LinkedIn is no exception.

I don’t have personal social media accounts beyond the work I do for Housing Sector and my GreenSquareAccord resident support site. What I do in my own time is my business. The meal I had yesterday or the walk I took last week shouldn’t concern you.

Housing associations often brag about their successes while failing their residents. And when I point that out, as I’m known to do, it causes upset.

Maybe, just for a moment, we could all stop faking it—own our failures, learn from them, and highlight real successes without drowning them in a sea of false praise.

Deflection and Deletion

This person responded to my blog with one of their own, emphasising the value of their customer service offering. A debate started in the LinkedIn comments section between us, and in the end, instead of addressing the point, they began boasting about how much money they make and how great business is—suggesting that if they’re making money, they must be doing something right.

That was disappointing. It only reinforced my concern: people are profiting without actually solving the problems they claim to address. However a quick check on Companies House suggests that perhaps business isn’t quite as booming as they claim.

What happened next was interesting. Later that day, they deleted the comments. Then, a day later, they posted that they had been trolled and that the experience had left a bad taste in her mouth. That struck me as highly irregular.

So, I replied. I made it clear that I hadn’t trolled them—I had simply pointed out what had happened. Instead of providing a real answer, they had chosen to brag about money. That wasn’t trolling; that was an attempt to have a discussion. If you’re making a living selling customer service training, surely you should be able to justify its value? But rather than do that, they found it easier to label me a troll than to defend the cost of her services.

And that’s the real issue here.

Birds of a Feather, Profit Together

The sector is full of like-minded people, and that’s only natural. Birds of a feather flock together, as they say. But we have to change our mindset if we want to save costs. And the reality is, saving costs means making cutbacks. There’s no way around it—it’s a cold, hard fact. Jobs will be lost, income streams will shrink, and some people will see reductions in their revenue streams.

I understand why people get defensive about this. In a way, I’m challenging a system that puts food on their tables. I get why the instinctive response is combative—why people say, You can’t say that you troll! But we’ve reached a juncture where tough decisions have to be made. The money simply isn’t there, so if you want to secure your role or your service, you need to prove your value.

Right now, customer service training is a nice-to-have. In theory, customer service teams should already be trained to handle calls efficiently, be polite, and remain professional. If they aren’t, that’s a fundamental failure and a recruitment issue. But even with excellent customer service, the biggest problem remains: repairs aren’t being carried out properly.

For now, my suggestion is simple: move customer service training in-house. Hire an internal trainer who can keep those skills alive, respond to call recordings and complaints in real time, and offer targeted support. It’s a more responsive approach than rolling out expensive, generic, two-day training sessions across the business.

To be fair to GreenSquareAccord—who I often criticise—they’ve actually done this right. A member of their communications team is rolling out training internally. This is a cost-saving measure, and hats off to them for it. They’re leading with a positive example, and I’ll give them credit for that. I know—who would have thought it!

Who’s Really Profiting from the Not-for-Profit Housing Sector?

There’s a real and growing problem with people profiting off a system that isn’t designed to generate profit.

We’ve covered this before, and we’ll cover it again—because it keeps happening. If you want to know who’s responsible for the financial pressures in this sector, follow the money. Look at where it’s being spent. The answers are always there.

Instead of constantly outsourcing, housing associations should be looking at what can be done in-house and how expertise can be shared across organisations.

For example, if I were the CEO of Ben’s Housing Association and had a top-tier tech specialist ensuring data security and GDPR compliance, why wouldn’t I share that resource with Rachel’s Housing Association? In return, maybe Rachel has a gas safety expert who has transformed her compliance team. Why not trade expertise? Share best practices?

This kind of resource-sharing could be a game-changer. And it doesn’t need to be a costly, overcomplicated initiative. No grand launch, no fancy networking event in a swanky London hotel at residents’ expense—just a straightforward conversation between CEOs who want to cut costs and find smart solutions.

Conclusion

Disagreement isn’t trolling. Asking tough questions isn’t an attack. Yet it’s far too easy for people to dismiss uncomfortable conversations by playing the victim instead of engaging in real debate.

The reality is, we’re facing a financial crisis in the sector. Costs need to come down. Jobs will be lost. External providers will struggle to justify their fees. That’s not an attack—it’s just the truth. If your business model relies on a sector that can no longer afford you, the question isn’t whether people like me are being unfair—it’s whether your offering still makes sense.

Housing associations need to start thinking differently. Instead of constantly outsourcing, they should be looking at what can be done in-house and how expertise can be shared across organizations. This isn’t about devaluing independent specialists—it’s about adapting to financial realities.

With that said, many jobs within housing associations will need to be cut—a topic I’ll explore in a future blog. But if your role doesn’t provide real value, it should be under threat. Senior leaders who have failed to drive meaningful change must go. Middle management, whose main output seems to be forwarding emails and holding pointless meetings, needs to be scaled back. These wages should be redirected to where they matter most—ensuring the day-to-day repair and upkeep of residents’ homes.

I’ll keep having these conversations, and I’ll keep inviting others to join in. But if your only response is to claim you’re being trolled instead of engaging with the real issues, that says more about you than it does about me. I’m not here to make friends—I’m here to shine a light on the issues that plague me and others as residents trapped within a system that is failing to uphold its end of our agreement.

Housing is in crisis. Let’s focus on solutions.