We hear about big businesses, big platforms, and big brands everywhere. Scale is success. Growth is good. Small is a stepping stone.

But for me? Small businesses, local communities, human-scale projects—that’s what’s actually best for society and the economy.

If you’re reading this and violently disagree, I’m not here to argue. But I know enough people who believe this, and I hope it’s true, and the more we name it and find each other, the more true it becomes.

Here’s what I’m seeing in the coworking world—and I think it’s proof this belief is fundamental and growing.

The data shows 51% of London coworking spaces are run by Small or Micro businesses.

• Operators with annual turnover under £15 million.
• Most are single-location, owner-operated, generating under £1 million a year.
• Over half the industry.
• Real businesses run by real people who choose to stay small.

These aren’t failed attempts at scaling. They’re proof that small and connected works.

Today I’m walking you through what the data reveals, why human scale matters, and what it means for anyone building community—whether that’s a coworking space, a creative collective, a neighbourhood project, or a network of independent workers.

Let’s start with a number.

450 out of 1,300 London coworking spaces are run by Micro businesses.

I didn’t personally count all 1,300; it could be 1,334. These numbers come from a recent market analysis using UK Government business size definitions—estimates, not exact counts, but they reveal a clear pattern.

Here’s what that looks like:

• 450 locations (34%) are Micro businesses: single operators, under £1 million turnover
• Add Small operators and you get 51%—over half the market
• Three large multinationals control 36%

The report calls the market “deeply polarised.” Large at the top. A vast long tail of independents at the bottom. Hundreds of people who chose proximity and authenticity over scale.

This isn’t just coworking. It’s proof that the belief—small and local matters—is real.

I’m neurodivergent. So was Bob, whose story Nadine Drelaud wrote about recently here on LinkedIn.

Bob ran Tech Minds Ltd for 20 years, achieving £600k annual revenue, employing 4 staff, and working with multiple contractors. He built it because big organisations were impossible—noisy offices, politics, no adjustments. IR35 killed his business overnight. He ended up on Universal Credit and lost his home.

Bob’s story is about how systems crush people who can’t function at a corporate scale but thrive at a human scale. For neurodivergent business owners, micro businesses, and independent workers, small-scale isn’t a compromise. It’s the condition that makes everything work.

The corporate narrative treats this as a failure. The data says it’s half the market.

The Dunbar number isn’t a limitation—it’s the point.

I was talking to Ann Hawkins recently. She asked about the scale. I said: “I can comprehend 150 people. I can recognise them in the corridor. When we’re all together, I don’t implode.”

Dunbar’s Number is 150 people.

Then I mentioned a friend opening a 400-desk space. I couldn’t help it: “Why? Trying to maintain a community with 400 people is like running a school, not a community.”

When things get bigger, they become inhumane. The more you scale, the less human contact you have. You miss out on the moment when someone glances at your screen and saves you hours.

I sat next to Nils in a coworking space years ago. He is a WordPress expert. He’d look over, see me struggling, and say, “You press that button there.” Saved me hours. I’d never have paid £50 for a class. He wouldn’t have wanted to run one. But the micro-interaction happened because the scale allowed it.

Under 150, you create conditions where people find each other. Community isn’t a product requiring structure and brand partnerships. It’s what emerges when you stay small enough to see the whole.

This is accessibility in practice. When you design for a human scale, it works better for everyone.

Small and connected is always more human than big and scale.

The legendary Space4 community lunches in Finsbury Park, where you can meet the Founders & Coders crew. Everyone puts £10 in the pot.

They go to a local restaurant, buy food, and invite anyone to join them. Members often participate in activities with the local community. Fashion boutique owners from the area come in to learn about AI and tech; Williamz runs his Job Club there.

When you don’t scale, you root.

Islington Council’s report from five years ago states that every £1 spent with a local business circulates around the local economy four times.

Spend with WeWork or Sainsbury’s? It disappears.

The more people pay attention to local neighbourhoods, the more money circulates through independent businesses.

Right now, we need connections, not scale. Hurtling toward consumer pulls us further apart. Small and connected is always more human.

The market data confirms two parallel tracks. Large operators compete through scale, global networks, and standardised service. Revenue in hundreds of millions.

Micro and Small operators compete through “deep community curation, industry focus, highly personalised service that larger brands cannot replicate. Their proximity and authenticity are their core assets.”

You’re not failing to scale. You’re succeeding at something different.

Before you even get a building, get people together in a cafe.

Once a week, someone says, “I’m thinking about opening a coworking space. How do I start?”

Build your community before you need it.

• Find a pub, cafe, or community centre.
• Get people together once a week.
• Call it pop-up coworking. Four people come, then five, then eight, then fifteen.
• They form a community. You can’t tell them what type—they’ll organise themselves.
• Then you notice who’s missing.

Trevor’s group in Niagara did this. Formed a co-op, started a space. At Weave Coworking in Wigan, Lee and Anthony gathered people, made a list, and offered founder memberships.

They sold one-third of the 70 seats before opening. Founder members were more invested than people who needed to see the building first.

This is how you build civic infrastructure. See the gap. Build the bridge.

Same principle, different format: host a screening of ACTionism: The Art of Finding Your People to Take Collective Action.