Your founder story exists. You just haven’t deployed it yet.

Last week I explained why founder stories matter. They’re proof your mission isn’t theoretical. The poll I sent to my newsletter subscribers confirmed what I’ve been seeing for months. Three-quarters of charity CEOs have never shared their founder story publicly.

The gap isn’t desire. It’s deployment.

Most founders I work with freeze at the same point. They understand why their story matters. They know it could build trust with funders. They’ve even drafted something in their head.

But they don’t know how to share it without making themselves vulnerable in ways that feel unsafe. They don’t know which format to use. They don’t know where to start.

So they don’t start at all.

The deployment ladder nobody talks about

Here’s what most people get wrong. They think sharing your founder story means one big reveal. A TED talk. A Guardian feature. A viral LinkedIn post.

I’d recommend that those shouldn’t be the first places you share your story.

I’ve delivered 80+ public talks about founding my charity, Naz and Matt Foundation. But I didn’t start there. Sadly, because of the tragedy that led me to start my charity, it was pretty public. Very public. The first time I shared our story in public, it was live on Sky News at breakfast. Then on BBC News.

I wouldn’t recommend you do it that way.

Using knowledge gained over the past 11 years, I’ve developed a founder story ladder to guide you. A way to start small, test what works, and build confidence before you go public.

Why founders avoid this work

I need to be honest about something. Sharing your founder story will cost you.

When I started sharing ours, I was also dealing with immeasurable grief, PTSD, trauma, and trying to cope with the impact of our very private lives suddenly becoming public. I hated the vulnerability. And there was no way to escape from the visibility

But I kept doing it because the story helped people. LGBTQ+ individuals found our support services because they heard the story and recognised their own lives in it. And over time, policymakers, politicians, government agencies, and funders came to understand why we existed rather than just what we did.

The cost was real. But so was the impact.

I’m not recommending you follow my path at all. In fact, I’m recommending the complete opposite. I’m sharing my experiences to help guide you toward a safer, calmer, and more pragmatic approach to sharing your story.

If you’re hesitating to share your founder story, that hesitation isn’t weakness. It’s wisdom. You’re protecting something sacred. The question isn’t whether to protect it. The question is whether keeping it hidden is serving your mission.

Start where it feels safest

You don’t need to share your founder story publicly to make it useful.

Start with your team. Tell them why you founded or joined the organisation. What happened in your life that made this mission feel non-negotiable. What you hope they understand about why this work matters to you personally.

That conversation changes how they see the organisation. It changes how they talk about your work to others. It changes how they understand the stakes.

Then expand to your board. Then to major donors in one-to-one conversations. Then to funding applications where your lived experience demonstrates you understand the problem deeply.

Only after you’ve tested it in controlled environments do you consider going public.

The magnetic effect happens at every level

You don’t need a million-view LinkedIn post for your founder story to work.

When I mention in a funding application that I founded Naz and Matt Foundation after my fiancé died by suicide, that single sentence changes how funders read everything else. They understand our mental health work isn’t abstract. They understand why LGBTQ+ support matters to us specifically.

That’s the magnetic effect at work. Your story pulls people toward your mission because they understand it’s rooted in something real.

This works in board meetings. In donor conversations. In team recruitment. In partnership discussions.

You don’t need scale. You need strategic deployment in the moments that matter most.

What deployment actually looks like

Over 11 years, I’ve shared our founder story across every format you can imagine.

Guardian features. BBC interviews. Two Channel 4 documentaries. Government training sessions. Police workshops. Charity conferences. LinkedIn posts. Funding applications. Partnership pitches. Podcasts. Poems. Folk songs. School talks. Books.

Each format served a different purpose. Each reached different audiences. Each created different outcomes.

An audience that sees your LinkedIn post isn’t necessarily the same as the audience that sees a documentary on Channel 4. Appearing on BBC World News isn’t necessarily going to connect you to the same people who would attend a police training workshop.

You need multiple formats. Not because one isn’t enough. But because different audiences need different entry points.

Where most people get stuck

The biggest barrier isn’t writing your founder story. It’s choosing where to deploy it first.

So here’s my advice after 11 years of doing this badly before doing it well.

Start with the format that feels lowest risk and highest value. For most charity founders, that could be a funding application. You’re already writing them. You already have to explain why you’re qualified to do this work. Your founder story answers that question.

Add two paragraphs. One about what led you to start the organisation. One about why that personal connection strengthens your approach.

That’s it. No LinkedIn post. No press release. Just two paragraphs in a document only the funder sees.

If that feels manageable, you’re ready.

Want the practical tools for deploying your founder story?

This article is an extract from the Social Impact Storyteller, my weekly newsletter for charity leaders and social impact professionals.

Every Thursday, I send one storytelling idea and three ways to implement it:

• One framework

• One template

• One AI prompt

This week’s full edition includes:

• The Founder Story Deployment Ladder in full detail (6 progressive levels from safest to most public)

• Your First 500-Word Founder Story Structure (fill-in template)

• AI prompt to adapt your story across formats (funding applications, LinkedIn, one-sentence bios)

• Early access to The Founder Story Sprint (4-week programme launching soon)

Subscribe here to get the full toolkit. Did I mention, it’s free?

https://www.impactstoryteller.org/

Matt Mahmood-Ogston Award-winning impact storyteller, documentary photographer and charity CEO Founder, Naz and Matt Foundation

Please note: This week’s edition has a trigger warning for suicide.

Nine out of ten of the CEOs I follow on LinkedIn literally post or repost only these types of content:

• “We secured £150,000 in funding.”

• “We delivered 500 support sessions this quarter.”

• “We’re delighted to announce our new trustee.”

Updates. Achievements. Milestones.

What they don’t post is the answer to the question every funder and supporter is quietly asking:

“Why should I believe you can actually do this?”

Because if nobody knows your story - the moment you witnessed something that shouldn’t exist, the pain that made this work personal, the gap you saw that no one else was addressing - how can they truly trust that you’ll see this through when funding gets cut and the work gets harder?

Your lived experience is proof that your mission isn’t theoretical.

Why most charity CEOs hide their stories

I’ve talked to dozens of charity leaders over the last year. When I ask them why they don’t share their founder story, I hear the same fears:

“I don’t want to centre myself instead of the people we serve.”

“It feels self-indulgent when our beneficiaries have suffered far more than I have.”

“What if people think I’m trauma-dumping or exploiting my own pain?”

“Our comms team handles storytelling—that’s not my job.”

These fears are valid.

But here’s what I’ve learned after 11 years of sharing the story behind my charity, Naz and Matt Foundation:

When you hide, you miss the opportunity to create the deepest form of trust.

Supporters don’t just fund causes. They fund people they believe in.

Funders don’t just back missions. They back leaders who they trust will deliver.

And when you share your story - authentically, ethically, without exploitation - you create a magnetic pull that brings people to your organisation when they need it most.

What happened when I started sharing our story

In 2014, my fiancé Naz took his own life. Two days after his family rejected him for being gay.

We’d been together for 13 years. We were planning to get married.

Public and press attention to the tragedy was immense.

I could have stayed quiet.

I could have let the grief consume me and disappeared. I wanted to join him.

But I started sharing our story because I didn’t want anyone else to feel the pain I was feeling. I didn’t want another person like Naz to believe there was no way forward.

I wanted people to understand they weren’t alone.

So I shared our story everywhere:

• National press (The Guardian, BBC, Sky News, ITV, LBC, Channel 5)

• Central government departments (Home Office, Department for Education, Government Equalities Office)

• Frontline police officers, NGOs, domestic abuse charities

• Schools, colleges, universities, Pride events, corporate events

• Town halls, community halls

• TV, national radio, local radio, independent radio, podcasts

Our story was turned into a BBC Folk Award-nominated song (“Be The Man” by The Young’uns, written by Sean Cooney), which has been performed at Glastonbury and other festivals and is now performed by choirs around the UK and the world.

Our story, and what happened to Naz became the inspiration for a major Coronation Street storyline.

Our story was featured in multiple documentaries, including our own Channel 4 documentary My God I’m Queer, which won Best TV Programme of 2021 at the Asian Media Awards.

But here’s what matters most:

Sharing our story made other people realise they weren’t alone.

It acted as a magnet.

People came to our support services because they’d heard our story and thought, “If Matt can survive this, maybe I can too.”

They attended our support groups. They received one-to-one support. They found their chosen family.

Today, they are survivors. Living safer, happier lives because they found us, and the community we had created.

That’s what happens when you share your story.

You don’t just build trust with funders.

You create a lifeline for the people who need you most.

The cost of sharing your story (and why it’s worth it)

I won’t lie to you.

Sharing our story has come at a cost:

• Safety concerns

• Panic attacks

• Increased anxiety

• Fear

• Burnout

There have been moments where I’ve questioned whether it’s worth it.

But every time I’ve considered stopping, I remember why I started.

The reason we lead charities isn’t to keep ourselves safe and comfortable. It’s to make a positive change to the world and leave it in a better state than we found it.

And one of the most effective ways to do that is to share our own stories and set an example that inspires others to share theirs too.

These consequences - the anxiety, the fear, the vulnerability - are things we can learn to manage.

But the lives saved because someone heard your story and thought “I’m not alone”?

That’s irreplaceable.

The founder story that builds trust

Not all leader stories work.

A founder story that builds trust isn’t about you. It’s about why the work exists.

It answers five questions:

1. The Witness Moment: What did you see or experience that others didn’t?

2. The Gap Recognition: What wasn’t there that should have been?

3. The Personal Stake: Why you? Why not someone else?

4. The Mission Bridge: How does your story connect to your organisation’s End Vision?

5. The Invitation: What do you need supporters to do now?

The story you’re not telling

Your charity’s most powerful story isn’t in your case studies folder.

It’s not in your annual report.

It’s not in your funding applications.

It’s the story of why you started this work in the first place.

The moment you witnessed something that shouldn’t exist.

The gap you saw that no one else was addressing.

The personal stake that made you the right person to fix it.

That story is waiting to be told.

Want the practical tools to tell your founder story?

This article is an extract from Social Impact Storyteller, my weekly newsletter for charity leaders, fundraisers and social impact professionals.

Every Thursday, I send one storytelling idea and three ways to implement it:

• One framework

• One template

• One AI prompt

This week’s full edition includes:

• The Founder Story Brief template (to map your story before you write it)

• An AI prompt that drafts the first version of your 500-word founder story

• Early access details for The Founder Story Sprint (4-week hands-on programme launching soon)

Subscribe here to get the full toolkit: www.impactstoryteller.org

Matt Mahmood-Ogston Award-winning impact storyteller, photographer and charity CEO for Naz and Matt Foundation

Your frontline team is now capturing stories. Good. That’s great news for your charity or social impact organisation.

But here’s the problem - you can’t develop them all.

Full story development takes time. An interview. Write-up. Consent process. Photography. Editing. Sign-off. You’re looking at 2-4 hours minimum per story.

If your team captures 10 story leads in a month and you can only develop 2, which ones do you choose?

Most organisations get this wrong. And it costs them.

The problem most organisations get wrong

They develop stories based on convenience.

Who responded to the email first. Who’s easiest to contact. Who’s most enthusiastic about sharing. Who happens to be available when the photographer has time.

Or they develop stories based on emotion.

The most moving story. The one that made someone cry in the team meeting. The most dramatic transformation. The biggest turnaround.

Or they develop stories reactively.

Funding deadline approaching. Scramble for any case study. Grab whoever’s willing. Rush the process. Hope it’s good enough.

None of these approaches are strategic.

Convenience doesn’t guarantee the story proves your End Vision. Emotion doesn’t mean the story builds funder trust. Reactive scrambling produces mediocre work.

The result? Wasted resources on stories that don’t move you forward.

Why this matters now

You’re already stretched thin. 2026 is harder than 2025.

Government grants have declined by around £1 billion annually since 2020. Four million fewer people are giving regularly compared to 2019. Your team is smaller than it was two years ago.

You cannot afford to spend 4 hours developing a story that doesn’t land with funders.

Every story you develop must count. That requires strategic prioritisation, not convenience.

When funders are making harder decisions, your stories need to be sharper. That means being ruthless about which captured stories become full case studies.

A better way to think about it

Story triage isn’t about which stories are “best”.

It’s about which stories prove you’re moving toward your End Vision and match what specific funders need to see right now.

The most moving story isn’t always the most strategic story. The most dramatic transformation isn’t always the right transformation to showcase.

What matters is this: Does this story show clear movement toward your End Vision? Does it fill a gap in your story bank? Can you actually complete it? Is the timing right?

Those four questions create a system. And systems beat good intentions every time.

The mistake I see constantly

I work with charities and social impact organisations as a storytelling consultant and documentary photographer. The pattern repeats across organisations of all sizes.

They capture 15 story leads. Great start.

Then they develop the story about the staff volunteer day because it has dramatic photos and everyone’s enthusiastic. Two days of work. Looks nice. Gets some likes on social media.

But it doesn’t prove beneficiary transformation. It doesn’t connect to the End Vision. And when the funding application comes around three weeks later, it’s almost useless.

Meanwhile, the story about a young person who challenged discrimination at work for the first time - which directly proves their End Vision - sits in the “maybe later” pile. Until that person moves away. Or the details fade. Or the relationship goes cold.

The opportunity disappears because there was no system for deciding which stories to prioritise.

What strategic organisations do differently

They evaluate every captured story against clear criteria before committing development time.

They ask:

• Does this story prove our End Vision? Not “is it moving” but “does it show the specific change we exist to create?”

• Is the timing right? Do we have a deadline? Will this story disappear if we wait? Is the relationship warm?

• Can we actually complete it? Do we have consent? Is the person able to participate? Are there safeguarding concerns?

• Does this fill a gap? Do we already have similar stories? What type of story do we need right now?

These four questions create a decision matrix. Score each story across these dimensions. Develop the highest-scoring stories first.

Suddenly, you’re not scrambling. You’re strategic.

The question that changes everything

Before you commit 4 hours to developing a story, answer this:

If I could only develop three stories this quarter, would this be one of them?

If the answer is no, archive it. It’s not lost. It’s just not priority.

If the answer is yes, develop it immediately. Don’t wait. Relationships fade. Details blur. People move on.

Strategic storytelling means knowing which stories to develop now, which to develop later, and which to leave as captured leads in case you need them.

Why most organisations resist this

Because it feels harsh.

Someone shared their story. They’re willing to participate. It feels wrong to say “not yet” or “not this one.”

But developing the wrong story wastes their time too.

If you develop a story that doesn’t land with funders, that doesn’t prove your impact, that doesn’t connect to your End Vision - you’ve potentially wasted everyone’s time. The person shared their story. You invested hours. And it sits unused in a folder.

Better to be strategic upfront. Develop fewer stories. But make sure every story you develop actually works.

What happens when you get this right

You stop scrambling when funding deadlines hit.

You have a pipeline of high-priority stories ready to develop. You know which ones prove your End Vision. You know which ones fill gaps in your story bank. You know which ones funders need to see.

When a deadline arrives, you don’t panic. You look at your prioritised list. You develop the highest-scoring story that matches the funder’s requirements. Done.

Your stories become sharper because you’re only developing the ones that matter. Your team becomes more efficient because they’re not wasting time on low-priority work. Your funders see proof of transformation, not just descriptions of activity.

Strategic storytelling isn’t about doing more. It’s about doing the right things.

This is part of a system

This is Edition 4 of The Social Impact Storyteller newsletter.

Over the past three weeks, I’ve shared:

• Edition 1: How to define your Emotional Destination - the feeling you want to create and the action you want people to take

• Edition 2: How to define your End Vision - the specific, observable change you’re working toward

• Edition 3: How to build a Story Capture System - so frontline teams document transformation as it happens

• Edition 4 (today): How to triage captured stories - so you develop the right stories, not just the convenient ones

Each edition builds on the previous one. Each edition includes a framework, a template, and an AI prompt you can use immediately.

Want the full framework?

This LinkedIn article covers the concept. The email newsletter includes:

• The Story Triage Matrix - a 4-dimension scoring system for prioritising stories (with weightings and decision thresholds)

• Weekly Story Review Checklist - a copy-paste template for evaluating captured stories every Monday

• AI Prompt - for getting strategic prioritisation help from Claude, ChatGPT, or Gemini

Plus practical examples, scoring calculations, and how to use the system with your team.

Subscribe here: impactstoryteller.org

The newsletter goes out every Thursday at 7:45am. It’s free. It’s practical. No hot air.

If you’re a charity leader, impact manager, or anyone responsible for proving your organisation creates change, this newsletter will save you time and sharpen your storytelling.

Hello, I’m Matt Mahmood-Ogston Award-winning impact storyteller, photographer and charity CEO

I help charities and social impact organisations turn their work into stories that unlock funding and drive change. Based in London, working across the UK and internationally.

Connect with me here on LinkedIn, or work with me directly

Not because the stories weren’t powerful. Not because the transformation wasn’t real.

Because no one captured them when they happened.

I see this pattern constantly, both as a charity CEO and in the organisations I work with. Dozens of powerful stories slip through the cracks every month because no one was there to document them when they happened.

Many charities and social impact teams wait until they need a story - for a funding bid, annual report, or campaign - then scramble to find someone willing to talk.

By then, the moment has passed. The transformation is old news. The details are fuzzy. The person has moved on.

What makes it worse is that when organisations collect stories, they often focus on the wrong things.

Staff volunteer days. Team fundraising events. Awareness activities.

These are nice. They show your team cares.

But they don’t show beneficiary transformation.

Funders and project sponsors don’t fund staff volunteer days. They fund change in the lives of the people you exist to serve.

The organisations that survive 2026 won’t be the ones with bigger budgets for professional photography.

They’ll be the ones whose frontline teams capture transformation as it happens - with a phone, a voice note, or three sentences in a shared document.

Story capture isn’t just a communications function. It’s also a frontline function.

Your youth workers, case managers, programme leads, and support staff are already there when change happens.

They see the moment someone gains the confidence to challenge discrimination.

They hear the conversation that shifts everything.

They notice the small victory that signals bigger transformation.

If you give them a simple system to capture those moments, you’ll never run out of stories.

More importantly, you’ll have the right stories - the ones that show movement toward real change, not just descriptions of busyness.

The question that changes everything

Before you plan your next impact report or funding application, answer this:

Do your frontline staff know what transformation looks like, and do they have a two-minute way to capture it when they see it?

If the answer is no, you’re losing your best stories every single week.

Building a story capture system

In this morning’s edition of my email newsletter, Social Impact Storyteller, I break down the four-stage Story Pipeline that ensures you never lose another powerful story:

Stage 1: CAPTURE - Frontline teams document transformation in 2 minutes as it happens

Stage 2: TRIAGE - Comms team reviews weekly and prioritises strategically

Stage 3: DEVELOP - Full interviews, photography, and ethical consent processes

Stage 4: DEPLOY - Matched stories drive funding, build trust, inspire action

I’ve included:

→ A copy-paste email brief you can send to frontline staff today

→ An AI prompt to design a system that works for your team’s workflow

→ Clear guidance on what counts as a priority story (and what doesn’t)

This isn’t theory. It’s the system I use as CEO of Naz and Matt Foundation, and it’s the approach I teach organisations that need stories that unlock funding and create positive change - not just fill annual reports.

One practical step you can take this week

Set up a shared space where frontline staff can drop story leads in real time.

A Notion page. A Google Doc. A WhatsApp group. Even an email folder.

Not polished case studies. Just three sentences: who, what changed, and why it matters.

That’s your starting point.

Want the full framework, templates, and AI prompts?

Subscribe to Social Impact Storyteller - a free, weekly newsletter helping charity leaders and social impact teams turn their work into compelling proof for funders and inspiring stories for action.

Every Thursday at 7:45am, I share:

• Practical frameworks (not theory)

• Copy-paste templates

• AI prompts that actually work

• Real examples from frontline charity work

Join 633 charity leaders and social impact professionals who are subscribed to my weekly email newsletter: impactstoryteller.org

Matt Mahmood-Ogston is an award-winning impact storyteller, documentary photographer, and CEO of Naz and Matt Foundation. His documentary “My God, I’m Queer” won Best TV Programme at the Asian Media Awards, and one of his biggest charity campaigns reached 54 million people.

Last week, I asked my impact storyteller newsletter subscribers what’s stopping them from telling better impact stories.

The responses pointed to three barriers:

1. not enough time,

2. not knowing where to start, and

3. lack of budget for photography or video.

Here’s what’s interesting: two of these three aren’t resource problems. There are problems about clarity.

You don’t need more time if you’re more strategic. You don’t need to wonder where to start if you know exactly what success looks like.

That’s what this week is about.

The question most organisations can’t answer

Before you choose which stories to tell, before you collect case studies or commission photography, answer this:

What does success actually look like?

Not how many people you helped. Not how many sessions you delivered.

What specific change are you working toward?

Most organisations struggle with this. And in 2026, with resources scarcer than ever, that struggle is becoming expensive.

Why this matters right now

Funders are making harder decisions. Government grants have declined by around £1 billion annually since 2020. Four million fewer people are giving regularly compared to 2019.

When resources are scarce, funders don’t fund activity. They fund change.

If you can’t paint a clear picture of what success looks like, you’re competing with organisations who can.

Your impact data means nothing without a vision of what that impact is building toward.

The pattern I see constantly

Both as a charity CEO and working with organisations on their storytelling, I see this same pattern.

Someone asks what success looks like. The response is a list of outputs:

1. “We delivered 500 workshops.”

2. “We supported 300 families.”

3. “We reached 10,000 people through our campaign.”

These aren’t visions of success. They’re descriptions of busyness.

The question isn’t how many people you reached. It’s what those people becoming means for the community, the system, the future.

Without that clarity, your stories have nowhere to go. You’re documenting activity, not transformation.

How we got this right (eventually)

When I founded Naz and Matt Foundation after I lost my fiancé to religious homophobia and honour-based abuse, we could have measured success in sessions delivered or resources downloaded.

Instead, we defined our End Vision:

Everything we do points toward that version of the world. Every story we tell, every image we share, every campaign we run asks: does this move us closer to that vision?

That clarity transforms how you tell stories.

You’re not just showing what you did. You’re showing what’s becoming possible.

The one sentence that changes everything

Before you plan your next impact story, funding application, or annual report, complete this sentence:

Our work is successful when [specific group] can [specific action] without [specific barrier].

This is your End Vision. It’s the North Star for every storytelling decision you make.

If a story doesn’t connect to this vision, it’s probably the wrong story to tell.

Why defining this matters for 2026

Because you cannot afford to waste resources on stories that don’t land.

Because funders want to invest in change, not activity.

Because if you can’t articulate what you’re building toward, someone else will define it for you. Or worse, they’ll assume you don’t know.

The organisations that survive this funding crisis will be the ones who can show, clearly and compellingly, what success looks like.

Not just what they’re doing, but what they’re making possible.

Want the framework and tools to define your End Vision?

This article introduces the concept. But knowing you need an End Vision and actually defining one are two different things.

In this week’s newsletter, I share:

✓ The End Vision Canvas - A 3-level framework for defining observable change (Individual, System, Evidence)

✓ End Vision Statement Builder - A fill-in template with a worked example from my charity

✓ AI Prompt - Copy-paste instructions to help you sharpen your End Vision with ChatGPT, Claude, or Gemini

✓ 3 Storytelling Tools - The tools I use for transcription, email marketing, and LinkedIn formatting

Subscribe to The Social Impact Storyteller newsletter here:

Subscribe

Every Thursday, I share practical frameworks, templates, and AI prompts to help charities and social impact teams turn their work into stories that unlock funding and drive action.

Until next week, sending you safe and peaceful energy.

Matt

Matt Mahmood-Ogston is an award-winning impact storyteller, documentary photographer, and CEO of Naz and Matt Foundation. His documentary “My God, I’m Queer” won Best TV Programme at the Asian Media Awards, and his charity campaigns have reached 54 million people.

This is a teaser from this morning’s Social Impact Storyteller newsletter. The full edition - including the Story Bridge Framework, Emotional Destination Worksheet template, and AI prompt - is available at impactstoryteller.org

The Emotional Destination

Most charities and impact teams start the year by planning what stories to tell.

A campaign for spring. An impact report for funders or sponsors. Case studies for the website.

This is exactly backwards.

The impact organisations that cut through - that secure funding, build trust, and move people to act - don’t start with what.

They start with why.

Specifically: what change do they need to create this year? And then they build backwards from there.

Why this matters now

2025 was brutal for the sector. 151 major charities closed their doors - up 74% from the year before. Oxfam cut 142 jobs. Macmillan axed a quarter of its staff and scrapped its flagship financial hardship scheme. RNIB made over 15% of its workforce redundant. Scope closed 69 shops.

Government grants have declined by around £1 billion annually in real terms since 2020. Four million fewer people are giving regularly compared to 2019.

2026 will be harder.

Some of us will lose team members. Some will lose funding streams entirely. Some will be forced to make impossible decisions about which services to cut.

In this environment, your stories aren’t just marketing. They’re survival.

The organisations that make it through will be the ones whose stories make the case for their existence undeniable. Not louder. Not more polished.

More essential.

What most organisations get wrong

When I started telling my own story - about losing my fiancé Naz to religious homophobia and ‘honour’ based abuse in 2014, about founding a charity in his memory, about the work we do supporting LGBTQI+ people and families - I made the same mistake most organisations make.

I told it chronologically.

First this happened, then this, then this.

It took years and the production of a documentary initially rejected by Channel 4 to understand what was missing.

I wasn’t starting from the change I wanted to create. I wasn’t clear on how I wanted people to feel - and what I wanted them to do with that feeling.

Once I got that right, everything shifted. The documentary won Best TV Programme at the Asian Media Awards. Campaigns reached 54 million people. Policy makers started listening.

Not because the facts changed. Because the story did.

The question to answer before you plan anything

Before you write a single word, draft a single case study, or brief a single photographer, answer this:

What emotion do I want my audience to feel at the end of this story - and what action do I want them to take because of that feeling?

This is what I call the Emotional Destination. It’s the first step in the Social Impact Storytelling Framework I’ve developed over a decade of frontline charity work.

Your story isn’t entertainment. It must drive real impact.

Common emotional destinations for social impact stories include:

• Empowered to make change

• Moved to take immediate action

• Inspired to help others

• Determined to challenge injustice

• Connected to a larger cause

The key is choosing an emotion that naturally leads to your desired action. If you want donations, you might aim for “moved by the human cost and hopeful that change is possible.” If you want advocacy, you might aim for “outraged at the system and clear on what to do about it.”

Get this wrong, and even beautifully crafted stories fall flat. Get it right, and everything else - structure, details, delivery - becomes easier to shape.

Why is this important for 2026?

Because resources are scarce. You cannot afford to waste them on stories that don’t land.

Because attention is fractured. You have seconds to make someone care.

Because the stakes are higher than they’ve ever been. People are losing support. Services are being cut. The work you do matters - and if you can’t prove it in a way that people feel, you risk becoming invisible.

This year, your storytelling needs to be strategic. Not reactive. Not an afterthought.

Start from the change you need to create.

Build backwards from there.

Want the complete framework?

This morning’s full newsletter edition includes:

• The Story Bridge Framework (the 5-part structure that works)

• The Emotional Destination Worksheet (ready to use)

• An AI prompt to define your emotional destination

• Three storytelling tools I use daily

Head to impactstoryteller.org to read the full edition or subscribe to receive next week’s value-packed edition every Thursday at 7:45am.

Trafalgar Square, London.

A peaceful protest.

No violence.

Many of the protesters were elderly people, sitting silently in  chairs and sipping tea.

A female choir was singing.

Wellbeing volunteers were handing out food and water.

Then the arrests began.

Unprovoked.

They started slow. 

And then picked up pace.

Police officers made their way through the crowd towards the edges of the protest.

They picked one person out at a time.

Each protester was questioned.

Asked if they had underlying health conditions. 

If they had  medication with them.

Then, one by one, they were taken away.

Some protesters couldn't walk unassisted.

Some had walking sticks.

Some were blind.

Some were accompanied by their carer.

Carried  away as if they were violent criminals.

One elderly man appeared to have been dropped on the floor as he was being carried. The crowd erupted: "Shame, shame, shame" and "You have a choice."

Anna, an 81-year-old well-dressed woman, was one of those protesters. She was seated for hours. Silently. With a single placard bearing seven words.

She gave me permission to document her story.

Anna said she felt "it was her duty to be there".

To protect our right to lawful protest.

To bring attention to the atrocities that were taking place in Gaza. 

To make it clear that an act of terrorism, like the horrific stabbings that took place last week in Manchester,  and a peaceful protest, are not the same thing.

To show that exercising our right to protest is not terrorism.

Anna said she had 'less to lose than younger persons who might lose their jobs or careers by protesting'.

And so it was her duty to protest. 

To protect our lawful freedom to disagree with our government.

As a social impact photographer and charity CEO, one of the things that keeps me up at night is this.

If we lose the right to protest peacefully, we lose everything. If we can't document what's happening without fear, truth dies in silence. If we can't speak openly about injustice, we become complicit through our silence.

Social impact storytelling isn't just about sharing nice stories. It's about bearing witness. It's about creating a record when power wants us to look away.

For charities, this is critically important.

For purpose-driven brands, this is where you prove your brand values are not just hot air.

Those elders understood something most of us forget.

Freedom isn't given.

It's protected by people willing to sit in the cold and face arrest.

I documented their story because someone needs to.

Because when 81-year-olds are being arrested for sitting peacefully, we're not talking about public safety anymore.

We're talking about silencing dissent.

And if we can't see that, if we can't talk about that, if we can't share that, then we've already lost what matters most.

The freedom to tell the truth.

Too many charities think their CEO’s speech is the headline.

But the most important story rarely comes from the top.

It comes from the people at the heart of the work - service users, communities, frontline staff - and from the comms teams who make those stories visible.

The impossible role of comms

Charity comms teams are often asked to do the impossible.

Strategic one minute, reactive the next. Expected to be everywhere, yet rarely acknowledged as central to impact.

Here’s what usually lands on their plate (a fraction of the reality):

• Shaping stories for funding bids and impact reports

• Managing media relations and public statements in a crisis

• Creating campaigns for social media and digital channels

• Capturing and sharing service user case studies

• Writing speeches and thought leadership for leadership teams

• Designing newsletters, email updates, and supporter comms

• Keeping the brand consistent while juggling last-minute requests

It’s a workload that spans strategy, creativity, firefighting, and therapy (for colleagues who drop in last-minute with “Can you just fix this?”).

And it’s almost always under-resourced.

Why the CEO’s story isn’t enough

The problem is that when the CEO becomes the centre of the story, charities risk losing trust.

Yes, leaders matter. Their vision and voice can inspire. But if your external comms becomes synonymous with only one person, three things happen:

1. Authenticity weakens. Stakeholders know when they’re only hearing from the top, not the people actually living the impact.

2. Diversity of voices disappears. The reality of your work is complex, but it gets flattened into a single polished soundbite.

3. Resilience vanishes. When the CEO leaves, retires, or is replaced, the whole narrative has to be rebuilt from scratch.

Your CEO’s speech may open the door. But it’s the other stories - of communities, volunteers, and beneficiaries - that keep people listening, and funders interested.

Why this matters for the future of charities

Charities depend on trust. Without it, donations dry up, funders look elsewhere, and public support fades.

And trust is built through storytelling. Not marketing spin. Not annual statistics. But authentic, human stories told with dignity and care.

Here’s the challenge - when comms teams are overwhelmed, storytelling is often the first thing to be sacrificed. They stop planning, stop listening, and default to reactive outputs.

That leaves charities vulnerable. Because if you’re not telling your own story, someone else will tell it for you - and it won’t be the version you want heard.

Why comms teams burn out

I’ve worked with many overstretched teams. The patterns are the same:

• Too many demands, not enough control. Everyone else’s priorities dictate the agenda.

• Constant reactivity. No time for planning, just firefighting.

• Lack of recognition. Comms is seen as “service” rather than “strategy.”

• Morale erosion. When storytelling is reduced to fixing typos or “making something go viral,” motivation collapses.

This is not sustainable. For individuals. Or for the sector.

What needs to change

If we want charities to have a future, comms must be treated as mission-critical. That means:

1. Leadership buy-in. CEOs need to understand their voice is one of many - not the only one.

2. Permission to plan. Comms teams must be given space to set priorities, not just firefight.

3. Investment in capacity. Storytelling takes time and skill. Underfunding comms is underfunding impact.

4. Tools and frameworks. Practical systems that make storytelling easier, faster, and more consistent.

Because the reality is simple - if you can’t show your impact, you can’t sustain it.

What comms teams actually need

Beyond money and time, comms teams need:

• Frameworks. So they don’t start from scratch each time, but work within a proven process that makes storytelling easier and more effective.

• Story capture systems. Processes for collecting service user voices, frontline insights, and photos that don’t get lost in someone’s inbox.

• Training in social impact storytelling. To elevate beyond “outputs” and focus on influence, behaviour change, and trust-building.

Because comms isn’t just about promotion. It’s about survival.

A next step

I’m pulling together some basic tools to help charity comms teams stay afloat - so they can tell the stories that matter, not just the ones shouted loudest.

And soon, I’ll be launching Storytelling Kits - ready-to-use resources combining strategy, templates, and multimedia content to make social impact storytelling less overwhelming and more powerful.

Right now, I’m looking for three early adopters - comms leaders or teams who want to help others, test these kits in real time, and shape the direction they take.

If that sounds like you, DM me to get involved.

Closing thought

Your CEO’s speech isn’t your story.

The real story is the community you serve, the lives you change, and the impact your team works tirelessly to deliver.

That’s the story worth telling.

Silence is never neutral.

When you stop telling stories, someone else will fill the space. And rarely with the truth.

The danger of silence

If you’re not telling authentic stories about your work, your cause, or your community, you’re not just “taking a break.”

You’re giving in.

You’re giving in to negative narratives. You’re giving in to fear dressed up as fact. You’re giving in to bad actors who thrive on division.

Because stories are powerful. They shape what people believe is possible - and what they fear. If you leave the field empty, those who want to exploit fear will gladly take over.

What I saw at the protests this summer

I’ve attended a number of marches and protests over the summer.

What struck me most wasn’t the banners, or the chants, or even the scale of the crowds. It was the stories.

Raw, authentic stories of people displaced from their homes. Individual stories of some of the 65,141 people killed in Gaza - each one a life, a family, a future taken. Trans individuals facing erasure in public spaces after court rulings that strip away protections. Communities resisting far-right protests dressed up as “patriotism.” Citizens torn from their neighbourhoods by forced removals. LGBTQ+ people being attacked - not by fringe groups, but by democratically elected leaders who should be safeguarding them.

These stories triggered an emotion. They made people stop. Listen. Feel.

That’s the power of storytelling. It transforms headlines into human realities. And it’s why silence is so dangerous - because when we don’t tell our stories, the human cost disappears.

Why so many hold back

Here’s what I hear again and again when I work with charities, B Corps, and social impact teams:

• We don’t have the confidence to tell stories.

• We’re waiting for permission.

• We’re afraid of getting it wrong.

These fears are real. Especially when you’re dealing with vulnerable individuals.

Sensitivity matters. Dignity matters. Consent matters.

But holding back completely? That only strengthens the narratives you’re working against.

The importance of capturing stories

When someone tells you a story, it changes you.

It sparks an emotional response. It makes you see the world differently.

But if you don’t capture that story - if you don’t write it down, record it, store it, or build a workflow for your team to use it - then what happens?

Does the story exist at all? Can it be proven? Or does it drift away, replaced by whatever louder, easier narrative comes next?

That’s the trap we can’t afford to fall into.

Why telling stories matters now more than ever

Every story told is an act of resistance against disinformation.

Every story shared is proof that people are living through real challenges - and creating real change.

And every story documented becomes part of our collective memory. A record that cannot be erased or rewritten.

Because if you don’t tell your story, someone else will. And their version may not be true.

How to respond

If you want to make sure your stories don’t vanish, here are three steps to start today:

1. Create a workflow for capture. Audio files, written notes, short videos - whatever works for your team. Just don’t let stories disappear. If you have a smartphone, you already have all the tools you need to capture a story.

2. Prioritise dignity and consent. Stories must be co-created with the people at the centre. Protect them, involve them, and respect their boundaries.

3. Share creatively and consistently. Don’t bury stories in long reports no one reads. Share them in ways that stop the scroll, catch attention, and invite people to listen.

The truth about silence

When you stop telling stories, you don’t just lose momentum.

You lose trust. You lose influence. And you hand the microphone to those who want to divide, distort, and disempower.

So tell your stories. Tell them louder. Tell them bigger. Tell them in ways that people can’t ignore.

Because united by our stories, we can’t be silenced.

About the author

I’m Matt Mahmood-Ogston - a London-based award-winning storyteller, social impact photographer, and founder of the charity Naz and Matt Foundation. After losing my fiancé, Naz, to religious homophobia, I dedicated my life to helping others never feel alone because of who they are or who they love. Today, I help charities and NGOs turn their impact into stories that inspire change, win trust and get funded.

Turns out, doing the work is only a tiny part of doing sustainable social impact work.

When I first started my charity, I was obsessed with taking action. We were helping people in crisis. We were raising awareness through national press. We were showing up in every way we could.

Then a potential funder asked me one simple question.

“How are you measuring your outcomes?”

I remember freezing. I replied, “We’re speaking to loads of people who need help… we’re doing lots of press work.”

She asked again, this time slower:

“But what are the outcomes?”

That conversation changed everything.

The difference between doing the work, and showing the change

Social impact professionals, charity CEOs, and community leaders like us know this truth intimately. We are often too busy doing the work to talk about the change it’s making.

But there’s a trap here.

The more we talk about what we’re doing (outputs), and not what’s changing (outcomes), the more invisible our real impact becomes.

This isn’t just a communications problem. It’s a sustainability problem. Because no funder, partner, or policymaker is investing in activity.

They’re investing in results.

What’s the difference between Outputs and Outcomes?

Let’s break it down, simply.

• Outputs are what you do. Workshops delivered. Advice sessions held. Social posts published.

• Outcomes are what changed as a result. A young person reconnects with their family. A school reduces its bullying incidents. A policymaker invites you to the table.

Think of it like this:

Outputs are the recipe. Outcomes are the meal.

They both matter. But only one feeds people.

Why funders (and your future supporters) care about outcomes

It’s not because they don’t care about the hard work.

It’s because they’re under pressure to prove return on impact. Their boards, trustees, and donors are asking the same thing they’re asking you:

• “What changed?”

• “Why does it matter?”

• “How do we know?”

If you can’t tell that story, your funding narrative weakens - no matter how powerful your mission.

And that’s what I learned the hard way.

Why this matters for social impact storytelling

Because storytelling isn’t just about what you’ve done - it’s about what you’ve caused.

When your story only shares outputs, it’s like showing someone a map without telling them where it leads. But when you talk about outcomes - the real - world ripple effects of your work - you’re giving your audience something they can feel, remember, and act on.

This is what turns passive readers into active supporters. This is what moves hearts, shifts perspectives, and opens wallets.

And it matters because telling the story of real change is what unlocks more of the resources you need. More visibility. More trust from stakeholders, donors, and decision makers. And ultimately - more funding to keep going, and growing, the change you’ve committed your life to.

Where Theory of Change comes in

You might’ve heard the phrase thrown around at strategy meetings.

But what does it actually mean?

At its core, Theory of Change is a story.

A simple, evidence - informed story about how the work you do leads to the change you want to see.

Here’s a beginner’s breakdown:

1. Inputs: The resources you put in (time, money, people).

2. Activities: The work you do (e.g. deliver a workshop).

3. Outputs: The tangible deliverables (e.g. 30 students trained).

4. Outcomes: The short to medium - term change (e.g. 80% of students report feeling more confident).

5. Impact: The big - picture transformation (e.g. fewer students drop out, healthier communities, lasting behaviour shifts).

It’s not a corporate tool. It’s a storytelling tool.

Because if you can’t tell the journey of how your work leads to change, no one else will.

How I turned my mistake into a framework

That funder conversation stayed with me.

So I started listening harder.

I documented stories. I measured what I could. And I created The Social Impact Storytelling Framework - to help other purpose-driven leaders avoid the silence I faced that day.

Now, when funders ask what our outcomes are, I don’t flinch.

I open the folder. I show the stories. I let our community speak for themselves.

Because real change isn’t a bullet point.

It’s a story worth telling well.

Final thought - You don’t need more data. You need more clarity.

This is your reminder.

You’re not just a deliverer of programmes. You’re the architect of change.

And if the world is ever going to understand how powerful your work truly is, they need to hear about more than your outputs.

They need to see the lives changed.

That’s the outcome. That’s the story.

You’ve got the data. You’ve got the outputs. You’ve even got a slide deck. But if you’re not showing why change happens - not just that it does - your story is missing its engine.

Most impact reports are just outputs in disguise

Twelve workshops. Forty people trained. Three hundred kits distributed.

That’s what most organisations report. Outputs.

But funders and stakeholders are asking for more than activity.

They want to know what changed - and why.

Without that, your story ends up sounding like a list. Not a journey.

What is a Theory of Change?

A Theory of Change is a simple but powerful framework.

According to the Center for Theory of Change, it is

'a comprehensive description and illustration of how and why a desired change is expected to happen in a particular context.'

It maps out how and why your work leads to the outcomes you promise.

It helps you answer questions like:

• What do we do?

• What do we expect to happen next?

• What assumptions are we making?

• And what long-term change are we trying to create?

It’s not just about the end goal.

It’s about what connects the dots in between.

Why your social impact team or charity needs one

A strong Theory of Change isn’t just useful for funders or project sponsors.

It gives your whole organisation clarity.

It helps everyone see how their work links to something bigger. It gives purpose to the process.

And it holds you accountable to the outcomes that matter - not just the numbers that look good on paper.

But most importantly?

It makes your story make sense.

Why funders love Theory of Change

Because it shows you’ve thought it through.

You’re not just hoping to make a difference.

You’re showing the path.

You’re not just listing what you do.

You’re explaining why it works.

And that builds trust.

When your Theory of Change is clear, your funders don’t just see outputs - they see strategy. They see intention. They see impact.

But here’s where most organisations go wrong

They build the diagram.

They map the logic.

And then they stop.

They don’t translate the model into human language.

They don’t turn it into a story.

And that’s a missed opportunity.

Because a Theory of Change isn’t just for internal planning. It’s a goldmine for storytelling - if you know how to use it.

Don’t just build the theory - tell it like a story

This is where my framework comes in.

If a Theory of Change explains why your work matters, my Social Impact Storytelling Framework helps you show how it feels.

We start with the emotion you want your audience to feel.

Then we reverse-engineer the story.

We use:

• Visual storytelling (photography and short video clips)

• Real voices and lived experience

• Narrative techniques from TED Talks, the Hero’s Journey, and StoryBrand framework

So instead of handing over a PDF, you’re taking someone on a journey.

One that moves them. One they remember.

What this looked like for my own charity

At Naz and Matt Foundation, we support LGBTQI+ individuals from religious backgrounds.

Many of the people who reach out to us are at risk of violence, isolation, or being forced into marriage.

We had the outputs. We had some data. But we knew that’s not what would reach the funders we needed.

So we told a story.

We showed one person’s journey.

How they found the courage to reach out.

What happened when they did.

And how their life looks now.

We connected every stage of that story back to our interventions - and our Theory of Change.

That story helped us win multi-year funding and move from a volunteer-only model to a team with paid staff.

Not because we ticked every box.

But because we told a story that made them feel something.

Your Theory of Change is already a story

You just need to bring it to life. So here’s what I recommend:

1. Revisit your Theory of Change.
   Is it clear? Honest?
   Understandable to someone outside your team?
   Do you have a Theory of Change?

2. Identify the emotional moment in that journey.
   That’s where your story starts.

3. Use photos, quotes, and real-world details to make it personal.
   Not abstract. Not polished. Real.

Want to learn how to do this properly?

I’ve built a free 36-page guide that shows you how to apply storytelling principles to your Theory of Change and create content that actually moves people.

▶︎ Download The Social Impact Storytelling Framework

Or, if you need help turning your Theory of Change into a human-centred story - or even developing and writing it from scratch - you can book one of my Social Impact Storytelling workshops.

They're designed to help teams clarify their message, build emotional resonance, and walk away with a strategy they can use immediately.

If that sounds useful, contact me to get started.

There’s a silent crisis in social impact leadership within brands and charities. I've watched brilliant purpose-driven organisations fail simply because no one knew they existed.

As a documentary photographer in London specialising in social impact, I've had the privilege of working with countless charities, social enterprises, and purpose-driven brands. Time and again, I encounter the same scenario: extraordinary leaders doing life-changing work who remain virtually invisible to the world.

These are the founders running incredible community initiatives, the CEOs pioneering innovative solutions to social problems, and the directors creating transformative change - yet barely anyone outside their immediate circle knows about it.

Why?

Because they're uncomfortable sharing their stories online.

Part of this is fear, part is confidence, and part is ego.

But by staying invisible, these leaders inadvertently sabotage the very good causes they've dedicated their lives to building.

The Three Barriers to Social Impact Visibility

After a decade of documenting social impact stories across the UK, North America and India, I've identified three key barriers that prevent purpose-driven leaders from effectively sharing their work:

1. The Fear Factor

The fear often stems from legitimate concerns:

"What if I'm judged for not being perfect?"

"What if I say something wrong and damage our reputation?"

"What if people think I'm just seeking attention?"

These worries are valid, especially in a sector where humility is prized and resources are scarce. Many charity leaders I've worked with express concern that being visible feels at odds with their organisation's values of selflessness and service.

One founder of a homeless charity told me, "It feels wrong to put myself out there when our work should be about the people we serve, not me."

This sentiment is common and honourable - but it misunderstands how social impact storytelling actually works.

2. The Confidence Conundrum

The confidence barrier is particularly common among founders who've been working "heads down" for years. They've been so focused on delivering services that they haven't developed the skills or comfort to document their journey.

A domestic violence charity CEO I spoke to had been running her organisation for 15 years but had never appeared in a single piece of marketing material. "I'm just not a natural at this," she explained. Yet when we began capturing her story, her authentic passion shone through immediately.

The confidence issue isn't about personality type - it's about practice. The most effective charity marketing comes from leaders who have developed the habit of sharing, not those born with natural charisma.

3. The Ego Paradox

Perhaps most surprising is the ego component. Many purpose-driven leaders worry that sharing their work appears self-promoting or egotistical. The irony? Staying invisible can sometimes be the more ego-driven choice.

By withholding your stories and keeping your work in the shadows, you might be prioritising your personal comfort over your cause's advancement. True service sometimes means putting yourself out there, even when it feels uncomfortable.

As one social impact storytelling colleague put it: "The most humble leaders I know are often the most visible - because they care more about their mission than their comfort zone."

The Hidden Costs of Invisibility

When purpose-driven leaders stay invisible, the costs are enormous - and often invisible themselves:

1. Lost Funding Opportunities: Funders can't support what they don't know exists. I've seen brilliant programmes close down simply because potential donors never discovered them.

2. Missed Collaboration Chances: Solutions in the social impact space often require cross-sector collaboration. If other organisations don't know what you're doing, vital partnerships never form.

3. Limited Scaling Potential: Many good causes stay small not because their model doesn't work, but because they've failed to build awareness around their impact.

4. Talent Attraction Challenges: The best people want to work for organisations with visible missions and leaders they can connect with.

5. Reduced Policy Influence: Without a visible presence, even the most effective organisations struggle to influence policy decisions that could amplify their impact.

One nonprofit I worked with increased its funding significantly in just nine months after implementing a consistent social impact storytelling strategy. The work they were doing hadn't changed - only their willingness to document and share it had.

How Storytelling Can Change the World (Starting With Your Organisation)

The good news is that becoming visible doesn't require a personality transplant or compromising your values.

Here's how purpose-driven leaders can start sharing authentically:

Start With Purpose, Not Personality

Frame your sharing around the mission, not yourself.

Document the work, the people you serve (ethically and with consent), and the challenges you face together. Your role is simply as the narrator of a larger story that deserves to be told.

A women's rights organisation I worked with shifted their approach from "look at our great services" to ‘here are the stories of resilience we're privileged to witness.’ The result? Engagement increased fivefold.

Create Documentation Habits

Working with a documentary photographer in London doesn't have to be a one-off event. The most effective leaders build regular documentation into their workflow:

• Monthly photo sessions to capture your work in action

• Quarterly impact stories featuring both data and human experiences

• Weekly micro-sharing of insights and learnings

Leverage Professional Support

Not every leader has the time to get to grips with this fully. So consider contacting a storytelling agency to assist, or

• Partnering with a social impact photographer who understands your sector

• Working with ethical storytellers who prioritise dignity

• Training a team member to help document your journey

One charity director I worked with initially resisted being photographed. Three years later, she regularly shares her organisation's story and has become a powerful advocate for climate justice.

The Future of Purpose-Driven Leadership is Visible

The most effective social change has always come from leaders willing to stand visibly for what they believe in - from Martin Luther King Jr. to Greta Thunberg, from local community organisers to global changemakers.

Today's social challenges demand leaders who can both do the work and share the story. This isn't about building personal brands or chasing likes - it's about amplifying your mission's reach and impact.

As a social impact photographer in London, I've seen firsthand how powerful authentic documentation can be. When leaders find the courage to become visible - to share both their successes and struggles - their organisations thrive, their causes advance, and their communities strengthen.

Your Invisibility Is a Solvable Problem

If you're a purpose-driven leader who's been hesitant to share your story, consider this: your visibility isn't about you. It's about the people you serve and the change you want to create.

Your story matters.

Your work deserves to be seen.

And somewhere out there, someone needs to hear exactly what you have to share.

What small step will you take this week to become more visible with your purpose-driven work? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

You can spot it a mile away.

The overly polished video. The smiling stock photo. The words that sound perfect - but mean nothing.

When a brand's story feels hollow, it's because they're speaking AT people instead of TO them.

And in a world drowning in content, the emptiness is becoming more obvious by the day.

Why Hollow Storytelling Is Everywhere

It's not your imagination. Brand storytelling is getting worse, not better.

Every organisation knows they need "authenticity" now. They've read the articles, attended the seminars, hired the consultants.

But most confuse it with "looking polished" instead of "being real."

The signs are everywhere: Stock photos of diverse hands joining together. Safe slogans about changing the world. ESG reports full of buzzwords but no real human faces.

On the surface: perfect.

Underneath: empty.

When brands try to manufacture authenticity, they accidentally reveal how disconnected they really are.

It's like watching someone pretend to be in love - the performance itself becomes evidence of what's missing.

My work documenting social impact across the UK has shown me the stark difference between manufactured and real stories. The hollow ones might look better on paper, but they never move people to action.

The Root Problem

Nobody cares about your brand.

They care about what your brand does for them, with them, and for their community.

Most brand stories today are "hero stories" - but the brand is cast as the hero. The community is relegated to grateful recipient, passive backdrop, or worse - a prop to demonstrate impact.

Communities don't want a hero. They want a partner, an advocate, a mirror.

The story framework is fundamentally backward:

Instead of "look what we achieved,"

It should be "look what we built together."

UK-based charity Comic Relief demonstrated this shift when they transformed their approach to storytelling. Rather than positioning themselves as heroes, they revised their creative guidelines to focus on partnership and community leadership, stating they aim to show people as agents of change in their own lives rather than passive recipients of aid or support.

Why Most Storytelling Feels Fake

You can't photoshop purpose.

No amount of polished visuals can hide the emotional emptiness of a story told without listening. The human brain is remarkably good at detecting inauthenticity, even when we can't quite explain what feels off.

The warning signs are clear:

• No voices from the community itself.

• No conflict, no struggle, no imperfection.

• Just slogans, not human moments.

I work with UK charities who initially request "success story" photographs showing beaming clients in perfect settings. The reality is that when organisations embrace more authentic documentation approaches, they connect more deeply with their audiences.

According to research from CharityComms, the UK charity communications network, organisations that evolve to more authentic storytelling approaches report higher audience engagement and stronger stakeholder relationships.

Real storytelling embraces imperfection.

It honours the real, messy, beautiful work happening on the ground.

What True Community-Led Storytelling Looks Like

If your community can't see themselves in your story, you're telling it wrong.

Stories that resonate aren't crafted in marketing departments. They emerge from genuine relationships and careful listening.

True community-led storytelling follows clear principles:

Representation: Real voices. Real faces. Real names (where safe and appropriate).

Co-creation: Involve the community in shaping the story, not just appearing in it.

Dignity over drama: Show resilience, not pity.

Transparency: Talk about challenges, not just wins.

UK homelessness charity Crisis demonstrates this perfectly. Their commitment to co-production means people with lived experience of homelessness actively participate in shaping the organisation's work and how stories are told.

Co-production is when members, staff, and volunteers work together, sharing power and responsibility across the entire project.

This approach ensures that storytelling emerges from genuine collaboration rather than being imposed by marketing teams.

How To Start Telling Stories That Actually Matter

You don't need a bigger media budget.

You need a bigger heart.

Transforming your storytelling approach isn't complicated, but it does require courage. Here's how to begin:

Listen first. Before you write anything, interview, ask questions, sit with the people you aim to serve. Create space for their perspectives to shape your understanding.

Capture real moments. Invest in professional photography and storytelling that shows real work, not staged perfection. Document processes, not just outcomes.

Hand over the mic. Where appropriate and safe, let community members tell their stories in their own words. Train and support them to become storytellers themselves.

Focus on shared impact. Frame your organisation's role as part of a bigger, ongoing story - one where many actors contribute to change.

Respect the dignity of the story. Always. This means obtaining meaningful consent, avoiding exploitation, and giving people agency in how they're represented.

When people recognise truth in your storytelling, they don't just support you - they become part of your movement. They see themselves in the work.

What Happens When You Get This Right

Real stories don't just win awards.

They win trust.

And trust is the scarcest resource in today's cynical landscape.

When an organisation shifts to authentic, community-led storytelling, several transformations happen almost immediately:

• Community trust skyrockets. People feel seen, heard, and valued rather than used.

• Funders and investors feel emotional connection, not just obligation. The work becomes visceral, not abstract.

• Media outlets actively want to cover your work because it feels human, not staged.

• Long-term loyalty deepens from partners, customers, and supporters who connect with the authenticity.

According to Charity Digital, charities that shift to more authentic digital storytelling see tangible benefits including stronger engagement, improved trust, and enhanced fundraising outcomes.

The Media Trust, a UK charity helping other charities improve their communications, emphasises that authentic storytelling "creates stronger emotional connections with audiences and brings your cause to life."

UK organisation Heard, which helps underrepresented groups take control of their media narrative, has documented how collaborative, dignity-focused storytelling creates measurable improvements in both media coverage and public attitudes.

The Stories We Tell Will Define Us

At the end of the day, your brand is only as strong as the stories it leaves behind.

Not the stories you tell about yourself, but the ones others tell about you.

When I'm documenting the work of my clients, I often ask community members one question:

"How would you describe this organisation to someone who's never heard of them?"

Their answers reveal the true impact of the work far better than any annual report ever could.

Because when a community tells your story as their own, you've won something bigger than marketing.

☑︎ You've earned trust.

☑︎ You've earned belonging.

☑︎ You've created something real in a world drowning in hollow stories.

And that doesn't just feel good - it does good. It creates the authentic connection that drives real, lasting change.

If you're ready to tell stories that don't just sound good but feel good, then it's time to stop polishing and start listening.

I help purpose-driven brands and charities tell stories that change lives.

If that's you, let's talk.

Matt Mahmood-Ogston is a social impact photographer, storytelling consultant and award-winning charity CEO based in London. His approach has helped brands and community organisations across the UK create compelling visual stories that build trust and drive meaningful change.

Cutting a cheque for charity matters enormously.

But there's another gift that multiplies your impact beyond the donation itself.

And the companies that understand this shift will be the ones remembered for decades.

Why Charities Are Invisible (And Why It's a Problem)

Small local charities are doing incredible work in communities across the UK.

But there's a fundamental problem.

Passion doesn't pay for PR.

Without real stories, charities struggle to win grants, new supporters, or media attention. They're fighting for attention in a world where attention has become the scarcest resource of all.

When good work stays hidden, it eventually disappears.

I've seen this firsthand while documenting the impact of smaller charities in London. They're transforming lives through education initiatives, but without compelling visual stories, they remain in the shadows of larger, better-funded organisations with dedicated marketing teams.

The Mistake Most Corporates Make

Most companies approach charity partnerships with good intentions but outdated methods.

They sponsor an event and put their logo on a banner. They donate products or volunteer for a day. They post one LinkedIn update with a giant cheque handover and call it a day.

Meanwhile, the charity's voice gets left behind.

The corporation tells their CSR story, but rarely empowers the charity to tell their own.

It's a missed opportunity that harms both sides in the long run. The company gets a shallow PR win rather than a meaningful partnership, and the charity remains as invisible as before.

The One Gesture That Changes Everything

There's a simple solution hiding in plain sight.

Fund a professional storytelling project: real photos, real interviews, real impact.

Gift the assets back to the charity - full rights, no fine print.

Elevate their brand, not just yours.

This approach costs a fraction of what most companies spend on traditional advertising, yet delivers far greater impact - both for the charity and for the company's authentic CSR goals.

UK-based insurance company Aviva demonstrated this approach with their support of Railway Children, a charity helping vulnerable children. Through their 'Street to School' programme, they not only provided funding but also invested in professional documentation of the charity's work, creating compelling content that can be used for its education and outreach activities.

Why This Works Better Than You Think

The impact of professional storytelling assets for charities is both immediate and long-lasting.

• A photo essay secures a six-figure grant because it makes impact tangible to funders.

• A vulnerable story wins a new corporate partner because it creates emotional connection.

• A powerful image goes viral and inspires hundreds to act because it cuts through the noise.

Research shows that charities that create compelling visual documentation and share their stories in public report significantly higher success rates in grant applications, finding new corporate donors, and receiving donations from members of the public.

Real-World Proof It Works

When Land Securities partnered with mental health charity SANE, their support helped amplify SANE’s Black Dog Campaign - a national initiative raising awareness about depression and anxiety.

The campaign, featuring powerful sculptures and public storytelling events, significantly increased public engagement and helped secure new partnerships.

Family Fund didn’t just run another charity campaign. They gave families a voice.

Through a three-year partnership with McCain Foods, they turned everyday moments into national storytelling - real parents, real children, real lives.

This isn’t theory.

This is happening, right now, across the UK.

What Corporates Get in Return (Without Even Trying)

The irony? By focusing on elevating the charity, rather than themselves, companies receive greater benefits.

Authentic trust and goodwill in the community that no advertising campaign could buy.

Stronger relationships with charity partners built on genuine value exchange.

Powerful stories for your own CSR reports, annual reports, ESG updates, and website - stories that feel authentic because they are.

The brand reputation money can't buy because it's earned, not purchased.

Morrisons supermarket discovered this when they funded documentation of their food redistribution charity partners. The resulting content not only helped the charities but provided Morrisons with authentic material for their sustainability reporting that resonated far more deeply with stakeholders than traditional corporate communications.

How To Do It Right (Without Overcomplicating It)

The approach is simple, but execution matters.

Hire a professional who understands dignity and impact storytelling - someone who can capture authentic moments without exploiting vulnerability.

Prioritise authentic voices over polished PR. The most powerful stories come from those directly impacted, not corporate communications teams.

Give the charity full access to the assets.

Empower them to grow beyond your partnership.

One Simple Gesture. Endless Ripples.

You don't need a bigger CSR budget.

You just need a more strategic heart.

And in a world where attention is scarce, giving visibility is the ultimate act of leadership.

This approach transcends traditional corporate giving by addressing what charities truly need in today's media landscape: not just funding, but the tools to tell their own stories powerfully and authentically.

The most forward-thinking companies are already shifting in this direction, moving from transactional donations to transformational support that builds genuine capacity.

If you believe your brand's purpose is bigger than a press release, this is how you show it.

If you want help making it happen, I'd love to help you tell stories that matter.

The story behind the photo: Volunteers from NishkamSWAT (Charity No 1139600) stand proudly beside their community ambulance that provides free medical and dental care to homeless people in London. This image was captured as part of a pro bono photography project donated to help the charity increase visibility of their life-changing work. © Matt Mahmood-Ogston

About Matt Mahmood-Ogston

I'm a social impact photographer, storytelling consultant and award-winning charity CEO based in London. My "Social Impact Storytelling Formula" eBook provides a comprehensive framework for creating stories that drive real change while maintaining dignity and authenticity.

Work with me

I'll help you transform how you document, photograph and communicate your organisation's impact. My approach has helped brands like Google, and charities like Hopscotch and NishkamSWAT, create compelling visual stories that build trust and drive meaningful change.

Work with me | View my work

Have you ever wondered why so many charity photos look the same?

The smiling aid worker surrounded by grateful children. The dramatic "before and after" transformations. The close-up of tearful eyes that tug at heartstrings and open wallets.

These images aren't accidents. They're formulas - ones that have been used for decades because they work.

At least, that's what we've been told.

But the uncomfortable truth is that many of these well-intentioned photos are reinforcing harmful stereotypes, stripping away dignity, and ultimately undermining the very change they aim to create.

My work leading a frontline LGBTQI+ domestic abuse charity and background with documentary photo agency Magnum Photos, has shown me these traps are easy to fall into.

There are better approaches available - ones that transform exploitative imagery into visual storytelling that genuinely drives positive change.

The uncomfortable truth

Those powerful photos in your impact report might be working against you.

The problem isn't that they're fake. It's that they tell an incomplete story - one that often reduces complex lives to simple narratives of suffering and salvation.

These images typically follow predictable patterns: desperate "before" shots followed by joyful "afters." Helpless recipients accepting aid from heroic staff. Decontextualised suffering that strips away the fuller reality of people's lives and communities.

According to research from the Ethical Storytelling community, these approaches don't just harm the people pictured - they can actually decrease long-term support for causes by creating "compassion fatigue" and reinforcing damaging stereotypes.

The organisations that continue using these approaches are finding them increasingly ineffective with today's more disbelieving audiences.

Signs your photos may be part of the problem

How do you know if your visual storytelling has crossed the line?

Look for these telltale signs:

1. Your images focus primarily on suffering rather than strength.

2. Your staff are positioned as heroes with community members as passive recipients.

3. Photos lack context about the broader circumstances or causes of challenges.

4. There's a clear power imbalance visible in the composition and framing.

5. Images feel like they were created primarily to evoke pity or shock.

If these patterns sound familiar, you're not alone.

Most organisations struggle with this balance. But recognising the problem is the first step toward transforming your approach.

Why traditional approaches are failing everyone

The old model of charity photography isn't just ethically questionable.

It's becoming increasingly ineffective.

UK charity Bond found that today's audiences are growing increasingly sceptical of simplistic, emotionally manipulative imagery. Their research shows that younger supporters in particular respond more positively to content that portrays people with dignity and agency.

These traditional approaches also fail the communities they claim to serve by reinforcing harmful power dynamics and stereotypes.

They can even create real psychological harm for those pictured, who often report feeling exploited or misrepresented.

The ethical alternative: Dignity-first photography

What if there was a better approach to visual storytelling?

One that maintains emotional impact while respecting the full dignity and humanity of everyone involved?

UK homelessness charity The Big Issue demonstrates how this can work.

Rather than focusing solely on the struggles of vendors, their visual storytelling highlights vendor strengths, skills, and aspirations. Their "vendor spotlight" photography emphasises eye-level engagement, personal stories, and professional portraiture approaches that convey respect.

This shift doesn't mean avoiding difficult realities. It means capturing them in ways that preserve dignity and provide proper context.

Visual techniques that transform your storytelling

Transforming your approach doesn't require abandoning compelling imagery.

It means creating it differently.

Instead of focusing on faces of suffering, capture meaningful details and environments that tell the story without exploiting individuals.

Rather than positioning your staff as heroes, document genuine collaboration and partnership.

In place of decontextualised emotional moments, create visual sequences that show fuller realities and processes.

These approaches actually create more distinctive, memorable imagery that stands out in today's crowded media landscape.

The power of participatory photography

The most transformative approach to charity photography?

Let communities tell their own visual stories.

UK disability charity Sense pioneered participatory approaches where people with complex disabilities create their own images through supported photography programmes. The resulting imagery provides authentic perspectives that outside photographers could never capture.

I applied this celebration-focused approach in my documentary film "My God, I'm Queer," which intentionally highlighted powerful stories of Queer Muslims living their best lives rather than focusing solely on trauma. This approach resonated deeply with audiences precisely because it showed the full humanity and joy of people often portrayed only through their struggles.

Participatory photography shifts power from organisations to communities. It transforms "subjects" into creators. And it produces uniquely authentic imagery that resonates with audiences precisely because it hasn't been filtered through an outsider's lens.

Even with limited resources, any organisation can incorporate elements of this approach by involving community members in planning photoshoots, reviewing and selecting images, and providing input on how they're used.

Creating images that drive action without exploitation

The good news?

More ethical imagery doesn't mean less effective imagery.

In fact, the opposite is true.

UK community foundation Power to Change found that shifting to more dignified, community-led imagery actually increased engagement with their content. Their visual approach focuses on community capability, collaborative action, and local leadership rather than problems and needs.

This approach works because it creates a different relationship with viewers. Rather than positioning them as saviours looking down on "the less fortunate," it invites them to become allies in a shared effort toward change.

Implementing a transformative photography framework

How do you put these principles into practice?

Start with clear guidelines.

Develop a simple ethical framework that outlines your commitment to dignity, context, and collaboration in visual storytelling.

Change your briefing process.

When commissioning photography, focus less on emotional impact and more on authentic storytelling that respects everyone involved.

Involve communities.

Create mechanisms for meaningful input on how people are visually represented in your materials.

Train your team.

Ensure everyone involved in creating or using imagery understands these principles and approaches.

UK international development charity Practical Action demonstrates how this can work systematically. Their visual guidelines emphasise contextualised imagery, technical solutions rather than just problems, and local expertise rather than outside intervention.

The path forward

Transforming your visual storytelling isn't about taking less powerful photos.

It's about taking more truthful ones.

Photos that honour the full humanity and agency of everyone involved.

Photos that show partnership rather than saviourhood.

Photos that capture real complexity rather than simplified narratives of rescue.

This approach doesn't just benefit those being photographed. It creates more distinctive, authentic content that resonates with increasingly sophisticated audiences who can spot exploitative imagery from miles away.

The most powerful charity photos aren't the ones that shock or provoke pity.

They're the ones that create genuine connection through respect, context, and authentic storytelling.

They're the ones that show people not just as they are, but as they see themselves.

Because in the end, the images we create don't just document impact.

They become part of it.

Ever notice how some organisations claim they're "changing the world", while others actually do it?

The difference isn't resources, luck, or even intention.

It's understanding what social impact truly means—and what it doesn't.

As a social impact photographer and storytelling consultant who's spent over a decade documenting change across the UK, I've seen firsthand how organisations struggle with this concept.

Many confuse activities with outcomes. Others mistake good PR for genuine impact.

The truth is, real social impact lives in the space between what we do and what actually changes as a result.

And if you're trying to create meaningful change—or tell stories about it - this distinction matters more than you might think.

What is the meaning of social impact

Social impact is the measurable effect an organisation's actions have on the wellbeing of communities, individuals, and the planet.

It's not just about good intentions or activities completed. It's about what actually changes in the world because of what you do.

Think of it this way: distributing 1,000 meals isn't social impact - it's an output. Reducing food insecurity in a community by 15% is impact.

Building a school isn't impact - it's infrastructure. Increasing literacy rates and creating pathways to employment is impact.

Real impact is about transformation, not just transactions.

This distinction forms the foundation of my Social Change Equation:

Outreach + Engagement + Education × Elapsed Time × Hope = Social Change.

Every element must work together to create lasting impact.

When I photographed Google's community leadership programme in London, I wasn't just documenting an event. I was capturing the beginning of community transformation - participants gaining skills they would use to address local challenges for years to come.

That's the essence of social impact. It's not just what happens in the moment, but the ripples that continue long after.

What are examples of social impacts

Social impact takes many forms, but the most meaningful examples share one quality: they create substantial, measurable change.

Environmental impact includes initiatives like Hubbub's "Community Fridge Network" across the UK, which has shared 18.2 million meals worth of food, saved over 7,650 tonnes of food that would have gone to waste. But the real impact goes beyond the food saved - it's provided a welcoming space for over 631,000 community members who gained food security and the reduction in carbon emissions from landfill waste.

Community-level impact happens when organisations like London's Bromley by Bow Centre take a holistic approach to wellbeing. Their integrated health, arts, and employment programmes don't just provide services - they've fundamentally changed how community care works in East London, creating a model that's been replicated across the UK.

Individual impact transforms lives one person at a time. When I documented the work of Hopscotch Women's Centre, I didn't just photograph services being delivered. I captured service users rebuilding their lives, gaining skills, and creating new futures for themselves and their families.

Systemic impact changes how entire systems function. The UK's B Corp movement isn't just certifying ethical businesses - it's reshaping how we think about business success altogether. With over 1,500 certified B Corps in the UK, they're demonstrating that profit and purpose can go hand-in-hand at scale.

These examples show that real impact isn't just about what you do—it's about the change that happens because you did it.

What is the social impact theory

Social impact theory helps us understand how and why change happens in communities.

Developed by psychologist Bibb Latané in 1981, this theory explains how we influence each other through three key factors: strength (how important the influencing group is), immediacy (how close they are in space and time), and number (how many people are being influenced).

This might sound academic, but it has profound implications for creating and documenting real change.

When social housing provider Peabody Trust works to improve London neighbourhoods, they're applying these principles - even if they don't call it "social impact theory." They understand that having trusted community members lead initiatives (strength), working directly in the neighbourhoods they serve (immediacy), and engaging substantial portions of the community (number) all matter for success.

I've seen this theory in action when documenting community programmes. The most effective ones don't parachute in with solutions - they build relationships, work alongside community members, and create momentum that spreads naturally from person to person.

Understanding this theory helps us move beyond simplistic notions of "doing good" to creating conditions where positive change can take root and spread.

What is social impact in business

Social impact in business has evolved from an afterthought to a core strategic priority.

Gone are the days when companies could get away with token charity donations while their main operations caused harm. Today's most forward-thinking businesses weave impact into everything they do.

Take Innocent Drinks, which started with a simple smoothie business and now champions sustainability across its supply chain, packaging, and corporate practices. Their "Big Rewild" campaign committed to restoring 2 million hectares of land. That's not just marketing - it's meaningful action tied directly to their business model.

Or consider Patagonia's UK operations, which go beyond selling outdoor gear to advocating for environmental protection, offering repair services to extend product life, and donating 1% of sales to environmental causes. Their impact isn't separate from their business - it's fundamental to it.

The B Corp movement embodies this integrated approach. Companies like Divine Chocolate don't just make fair trade chocolate - they're 45% owned by Ghanaian cocoa farmers, transforming the economics of chocolate production from the inside out.

The most effective impact-driven businesses understand that social impact isn't a department - it's a lens through which every decision should be viewed.

The ethical considerations in documenting social impact

Capturing social impact comes with profound ethical responsibilities.

When I photograph social impact initiatives, I'm not just documenting work - I'm handling people's stories, dignity, and representation. This requires a careful, thoughtful approach.

The first consideration is dignity. Does your storytelling maintain the full humanity of everyone involved? Or does it reduce complex individuals to simplified "beneficiaries" or "victims"?

I've developed a RESPECT framework to guide this work:

Recognise power dynamics,

Ensure meaningful consent,

Share leadership in storytelling,

Prioritise dignity over drama,

Emphasise agency not victimhood,

Consider long-term impacts, and

Tell the whole story.

Power matters in storytelling. Who gets to decide which stories are told and how? When I worked with a asylum seeker support organisation in London, we developed a collaborative approach where participants could review and approve images before use, and even learn photography themselves to tell their own stories.

This ethical approach isn't just morally right - it creates better, more authentic stories. The Bond Network's research found that audiences increasingly prefer dignified representations that show strength and agency rather than helplessness.

The most powerful social impact stories don't exploit vulnerability - they honour resilience.

Practical frameworks for capturing social impact stories

Documenting meaningful social impact requires structure and intention.

Every impact story needs five elements to truly resonate: A compelling hook that draws people in, clear stakes that show why this matters, a journey that reveals both challenges and solutions, evidence of real change, and an invitation for the audience to get involved.

This framework has helped me support organisations like Camden Giving and NishkamSWAT who have evolved how they communicate their work. Instead of just talking about grant amounts or the impact on beneficiaries, they now tell stories of community transformation that connect funding to real human impact.

The most effective impact stories balance data and emotion. When UK charity WaterAid documents their work, they combine powerful personal stories with clear statistics on access to clean water, demonstrating both human impact and systematic change.

Visual storytelling adds another dimension. The right image can capture what pages of text cannot. When I photograph social impact, I look for moments of transformation - not just services being delivered, but lives actually changing. The handshake sealing a partnership, the first harvest from a community garden, the moment a trainee realises they've mastered a new skill.

These frameworks help transform complex impact work into stories that move people to action.

Measuring and communicating impact effectively

Measuring impact doesn't have to mean drowning in data.

The simplest approach starts with three questions: What changed? For whom? How do you know?

UK social enterprise Social Value UK recommends focusing on outcomes that matter to stakeholders rather than just what's easy to measure. Their research shows that involving beneficiaries in defining success leads to more meaningful measurements.

When communicating impact, remember that different audiences need different approaches. Board members might want hard numbers, while the public responds to powerful stories. The most effective communication combines both.

Avoid common pitfalls like focusing only on activities ("we delivered 50 workshops") rather than changes ("participants increased their income by 30%"), or claiming more impact than you can prove.

The Big Issue Foundation doesn't just report how many vendors they work with - they track and share how vendor lives change in terms of housing stability, financial capability, and wellbeing. This comprehensive approach tells a complete impact story.

Bringing it all together

Social impact isn't about what you do.

It's about what changes because of what you do.

Understanding this distinction transforms how we approach creating and communicating change. It moves us beyond feel-good activities to results that truly matter.

Whether you're a business leader integrating purpose into your strategy, an ESG director measuring your impact, or a storyteller documenting change, this understanding forms the foundation of meaningful work.

The world doesn't need more organisations claiming to create impact.

It needs more organisations actually creating it - and telling those stories with authenticity, ethics, and power.

Because in the end, real social impact isn't measured in reports or photos or press releases.

It's measured in lives changed and systems transformed.

And that's a story worth telling well.

Have you ever looked at a charity campaign or impact report and felt uncomfortable with how they portrayed the people they're trying to help?

That feeling in your gut isn't random.

It's your ethical compass pointing north while the storytelling compass points south.

As a charity CEO, I've spent over a decade leading Naz and Matt Foundation, carefully documenting the impact stories of the vulnerable adults we work with.

Now, as a social impact photographer and storytelling consultant based in London, I've captured everything from the lives of service users at a women's charity in Camden to corporate ESG initiatives. Throughout all this work, I've witnessed firsthand how organisations struggle with the same fundamental tension:

How do we show our impact authentically without exploiting the very people we're serving?

The truth is, many purpose-driven brands get this wrong. And it's costing them - not just in reputation, but in real human dignity.

The Dignity Dilemma in Social Impact Communication

Let's be honest about something.

When we document social impact, we're often capturing people at their most vulnerable moments. The homeless person receiving a meal. The refugee family settling into temporary housing. The struggling teen finding community support.

These stories matter. They show real change happening in real lives.

But they also come with enormous responsibility.

I remember photographing for an organisation several years ago. The director asked me to capture "sad faces" of people receiving food parcels because "that's what donors respond to." I politely refused.

That approach might raise short-term funds. But it reinforces harmful stereotypes, strips away dignity, and ultimately perpetuates the very problems we're trying to solve.

There's a better way.

The Power Imbalance

Understanding power dynamics is crucial to ethical storytelling.

Those with cameras, platforms, and audiences hold tremendous power over how stories are told and shared. That power imbalance doesn't disappear just because your intentions are good.

The National Council for Voluntary Organisations (NCVO) in the UK, led by the wonderful Jane Ide, has highlighted this issue, noting that 'portraying people as passive recipients of aid can reinforce negative stereotypes rather than empower communities." You can read their full ethics guidance at https://www.ncvo.org.uk/help-and-guidance/safeguarding/

As storytellers, we must acknowledge this imbalance and work actively to correct it.

Some questions worth asking:

• Who gets to decide which stories are told?

• Who approves the final images and narratives?

• Who benefits from this storytelling?

• How would I feel if I were in their position?

These questions aren't just philosophical - they're practical guides to more ethical storytelling.

5 Signs Your Storytelling Might Be Exploitative

Before you publish your next impact report or social media post, check for these warning signs:

You're focusing solely on suffering to evoke emotions.

The most powerful storytelling shows both challenges AND resilience. If your content only captures despair, you're missing half the story - and likely exploiting emotional responses.

You're using identifiable images of vulnerable people without proper consent.

Meaningful consent goes beyond a hastily signed form. It means ensuring people truly understand how their image will be used, for how long, and in what contexts. This is especially crucial when working with children, refugees, or anyone in crisis situations.

You're oversimplifying complex situations for emotional impact.

Poverty, homelessness, and other social challenges have complex roots. When we reduce these to simple narratives with easy solutions, we do a disservice to the truth - and often to those we're trying to help.

You're reinforcing harmful stereotypes or saviour narratives.

Is your organisation positioned as the hero swooping in to save helpless victims? This narrative disempowers the very communities you're supporting and ignores their agency and resilience.

You're prioritising donor emotions over subject dignity.

The WaterAid charity in the UK has pioneered a dignity-first approach to storytelling. Their "Untapped" campaign focused on the strength and resilience of communities working to improve their water access, rather than just showing suffering.

The campaign was highly successful both in fundraising and maintaining dignity.

The Ethical Storytelling Framework: RESPECT

Over years of working in sensitive environments, I've been using a framework that helps guide ethical decision-making in storytelling.

I call it RESPECT:

Recognise power dynamics

Acknowledge the inherent power imbalance in storytelling and work actively to address it.

Ensure meaningful consent

True consent is informed, enthusiastic, and ongoing. It can be withdrawn at any time.

Share leadership in storytelling

Invite subjects to participate in how their stories are told and shared.

Prioritise dignity over drama

Choose approaches that maintain dignity even if they're less emotionally provocative.

Emphasise agency not victimhood

Show people as active participants in their own lives, not passive recipients of help.

Consider long-term impacts

Think about how this story might affect the subject in 1, 5, or 10 years.

Tell the whole story

Capture complexity, context, and the full humanity of everyone involved.

This framework provides a practical guide for making difficult decisions about what and how to document social impact.

Practical Tools for Ethical Decision-Making

Beyond the framework, here are three questions I ask before sharing any story or image:

1. Does this maintain the full dignity of everyone involved?

2. Would I be comfortable if I or my loved ones were portrayed this way?

3. Does this show the complete humanity of those involved, not just one dimension?

If the answer to any of these is "no," it's time to reconsider your approach.

Creating ethical guidelines for your organisation doesn't have to be complicated. Start with a simple one-page document outlining your commitments to dignity, consent, and representation.

The most ethical storytelling also involves subjects in the process. This might mean:

• Showing them photos before publication

• Including them in editing decisions

• Letting them tell their own stories directly

• Compensating them for their participation where appropriate

Sometimes, the most ethical decision is walking away from a potentially powerful but problematic story.

That takes courage.

But your organisation's integrity matters more than any single piece of content.

PS. Follow Bahja's work in the community

Want to know what's even more alarming than last month being the warmest January in history?

The fact that most people will scroll past that headline without feeling anything at all.

Last week, scientists revealed that January temperatures were 1.75C above pre-industrial levels. They were baffled. This wasn't supposed to happen yet.

But here's what really keeps me awake at night - we've become numb to climate statistics.

The Problem with Big Numbers

This is what happens in most corporate climate communications. They share impressive statistics about carbon reduction. They talk about net-zero targets. They present complex climate action plans.

And people's eyes glaze over.

Why?

Because 1.75C doesn't feel real to most people. But a story about a London family whose home flooded for the first time in three generations?

That feels very real indeed.

The Power of Small Stories in Climate Action

Let me share something I've noticed documenting climate impact across London. When Dr. Friederike Otto from Imperial College London warns about "unprecedented extreme weather events in 2025," it feels distant.

But when a local farmer shares how changing weather patterns affected this year's harvest, something changes.

People listen.

People connect.

People act.

Making Climate Change Real

What most sustainability reports miss is that behind every climate statistic are thousands of small stories.

Real people.

Real impact.

Real change.

The Los Angeles Warning

Consider the recent Los Angeles wildfires.

Most reports focused on acres burned and temperatures recorded.

But the stories that drove action?

They were about individual families. Local businesses. Community response.

Why This Matters Now

As we face what scientists call "dangerous climate breakdown," something becomes clear - big statistics aren't enough anymore.

We need stories that make climate change feel real, immediate, and personal.

Finding Your Climate Stories

Look for:

• The maintenance worker adapting to hotter working conditions

• The local business owner dealing with flood risks

• The community garden adjusting to changing growing seasons

These aren't just anecdotes.

They're proof that climate change is happening here, now, to people we know.

Making Numbers Human

Instead of just saying temperatures are 1.75C higher:

• Show how this affects the local park where children play

• Share how it impacts the elderly in your community

• Document how it changes daily life in your area

The Trust Factor

Here's something crucial - when people doubt climate science, they rarely doubt personal experience.

Small stories build trust because they're undeniable.

Creating Climate Connection

Your sustainability report needs:

Real voices

Local impact

Personal stories

Not just global statistics.

The Power of Now

Climate change isn't a future threat anymore.

It's happening today, in small ways, everywhere.

These are the stories we need to tell.

Your Role in This Change

As purpose-driven professionals, we have a responsibility not just to report on climate action.

But to make it real for people.

Making It Work

Start with one story:

1. One local impact

2. One community response

3. One moment of change

Think local, not global.

The Future of Climate Communication

The organisations making the biggest difference aren't just sharing climate data.

They're telling stories that make that data matter to people.

Your Next Step

Look for the climate stories happening in your community right now.

They're there:

In changing seasons

In local adaptations

In community responses

The Truth About Impact

After years of documenting social change, I've learned that people don't act on statistics.

They act on stories that move them.

Make it personal.

Focus on the emotional response you want them to feel. And the action you want them to take afterwards.

Your Challenge

As you think about your climate communication, ask yourself - “are you just sharing warming statistics”?

Or are you telling stories that make people feel the urgency of climate action?

Because in 2025, with dangerous climate breakdown already here, we need more than numbers.

We need stories that move people to act.

Stories that make climate change real.

Stories that inspire action.

Stories that create change.

One small story at a time.

Want to know why public trust in organisations has hit rock bottom, even as spending on polished marketing photos reaches an all-time high?

The answer lies in something I discovered while working in Magnum Photos' archives - a truth about documentary photography that's more relevant in 2025 than ever before.

It's about power.

And who gets to tell the story.

The Trust Crisis

Let's talk about what's really happening.

In 2025, we're facing a crisis of confidence. People don't believe glossy impact reports anymore. They scroll past perfect corporate photos. They've grown skeptical of manufactured moments.

And they're right to be.

The Power Shift

Something fascinating is happening in documentary photography:

The story isn't being controlled from above anymore.

Communities are taking back the narrative.

And it's changing everything about how charities, funders, and brands need to approach their documentation.

Why This Matters Now

Here's what makes this moment different:

For the first time, organisations don't just need to show impact.

They need to prove it's real.

The Three Pillars of Trust

Working across London's social impact sector, I've identified three crucial elements:

1. Authentic Documentation

• Real moments over staged shots

• Natural interactions over posed ones

• True stories over polished narratives

2. Community Voice

• Collaborative storytelling

• Shared narrative control

• Multiple perspectives

3. Long-term Engagement

• Ongoing documentation

• Relationship building

• Sustained presence

The New Rules of Documentation

Here's what's changing - charities can't just document their work anymore.

They need to empower communities to tell their own stories.

Funders can't just ask for photos as proof.

They need to invest in long-term visual storytelling.

Brands can't just create content about impact.

They need to facilitate real documentary work.

Practical Challenges and Solutions

Let's talk about what this means in practice.

Small Charities:

• Limited resources

• Time constraints

• Multiple demands

The solution isn't more money.

It's smarter collaboration.

Building Trust Through Partnership

Here's what effective partnership looks like:

1. Community Leadership

• Local story ownership

• Shared decision making

• Collaborative editing

2. Ethical Framework

• Clear guidelines

• Shared values

• Regular review

3. Sustainable Approach

• Skills sharing

• Resource pooling

• Long-term planning

The Role of Professional Photographers

This changes everything about how professionals work.

We're not just documentarians anymore.

We're facilitators.

We're collaborators.

We're partners.

Sector-Specific Approaches

Different sectors need different approaches:

Charities:

• Focus on dignity

• Show real change

• Build community trust

Funders:

• Support long-term documentation

• Invest in community capacity

• Value authentic storytelling

Brands:

• Partner don't patronise

• Facilitate don't control

• Support don't exploit

The Future of Impact Documentation

Here's what's coming:

1. Community-Led Archives

• Local ownership

• Shared platforms

• Collaborative curation

2. Mixed Media Documentation

• Multiple formats

• Various voices

• Different perspectives

3. Long-term Impact Stories

• Ongoing narratives

• Regular updates

• Sustained engagement

Making It Work

Start by asking:

1. Who really owns your stories?

2. Who tells them?

3. Who benefits from them?

The Path Forward

The organisations rebuilding trust fastest are the ones brave enough to:

• Give up control

• Share power

• Trust communities

Because here's the truth:

Real stories can't be manufactured.

Real trust can't be bought.

Real change can't be faked.

Taking Action

As you think about your documentation strategy, consider:

1. Are you capturing moments or manufacturing them?

2. Are you sharing power or hoarding it?

3. Are you building trust or just asking for it?

The future belongs to organisations brave enough to show their real story.

Even when it's not perfect.

Especially when it's not perfect.

Because that's when people start to trust you again.

---

• PS. Drawing from my experience with Magnum Photos and a decade of documenting social change across London, I've seen how documentary photography can rebuild trust when it's done right. The question isn't whether your organisation will adapt to this new reality.

  The question is how quickly you'll embrace it.

Ten years ago, I stood in front of a grieving mother.

She had lost her son.

But she refused to say why.

She wouldn't admit that he was gay. She didn’t acknowledge that his identity had anything to do with his death.

She hid from the truth. Because, in her mind, his identity brought shame to their family.

And in that moment, I realised something devastating:

If she couldn’t even say it, how could the world change?

I’ve worked with charities, social impact leaders, and mission-driven businesses for the last decade.

And I’ve seen the same thing happen over and over.

The stories that NEED to be told - the ones that can create real change - are often silenced, softened, or hidden.

“We’re making a difference, but no one sees it.”

“We share stats, but they don’t connect emotionally.”

“We need funding, but we can’t prove our impact.”

The hard truth? If we don’t tell our stories, nothing changes.

The right story makes donors give.

It makes policymakers act.

It makes communities rally behind a cause.

That’s why I created The Social Impact Storytelling Formula - a simple framework to turn real-world impact into powerful narratives that inspire action.

And today, I’m giving it away.

The Social Impact Storytelling Formula

Inside, you’ll get:

☑︎ A proven framework to craft stories that engage stakeholders

☑︎ A simple way to turn data into compelling narratives

☑︎ The storytelling structure that attracts funding, supporters & investors

Because if we don’t tell the truth - if we don’t own our stories - change never comes.

Download