Section 106 agreements are often discussed in terms of obligations, funding pots, and delivery milestones. They are framed around what must be provided, by when, and at what cost. Yet for the communities living within new developments, Section 106 is not a legal mechanism — it is a lived experience. It shapes the places they grow up, connect, and belong.

Too often, the sector approaches Section 106 with a doing for mindset: services are designed, facilities installed, and programmes delivered to communities. The intention is positive, but the outcome can feel imposed, disconnected, or underused. This is where an ABCD approach — Asset-Based Community Development — offers a powerful alternative.

What ABCD Really Means

ABCD starts from a simple but transformative principle: communities are not defined by their needs or deficits, but by their strengths, skills, and existing assets. Instead of asking “What does this community lack?”, ABCD asks “What already exists here that we can build on?”

In Section 106 communities, this shift is critical. New developments are often portrayed as blank slates — places waiting to be filled with infrastructure and services. In reality, people arrive with talents, networks, cultures, and ideas. Ignoring those assets risks creating facilities without ownership and programmes without participation.

Why ‘Doing For’ Falls Short

When Section 106 delivery is done for communities, residents are positioned as recipients rather than partners. Decisions are made upstream, consultations happen late, and engagement focuses on validation rather than co-creation.

This can lead to familiar problems: community spaces that feel unwelcoming, activities that don’t reflect local interests, or funding that is spent but fails to build long-term connection. Over time, this erodes trust and reinforces the perception that development happens to communities, not with them.

A doing-for approach may meet contractual requirements, but it rarely builds social capital.

Doing With: A Different Starting Point

Applying an ABCD approach to Section 106 means involving communities early — not just to comment, but to shape. It means mapping local assets alongside financial ones: resident skills, informal leaders, existing groups, cultural practices, and shared priorities.

Instead of asking residents to respond to pre-set plans, organisations invite them to explore questions together:

• What makes this place feel like home?
• What skills already exist here?
• What would help people connect, not just consume?

This approach recognises that sustainable community development is relational, not transactional.

From Infrastructure to Belonging

When Section 106 is delivered with communities, the focus shifts from outputs to outcomes. A community centre becomes a hub shaped by the people who use it. Green spaces are designed around how families actually gather. Funding supports local capability, not just short-term activity.

Most importantly, residents see themselves as contributors to their neighbourhood’s future. That sense of ownership is what turns investment into impact.

A Cultural Choice

ABCD is not a toolkit to bolt on at the end of a development. It is a mindset — one that requires trust, patience, and a willingness to share control. But the reward is significant: stronger communities, better use of Section 106 resources, and places that feel lived-in rather than delivered.

So as we plan the next generation of Section 106 communities, perhaps the question we should ask is this:

Are we investing in buildings and programmes — or in the people who will turn them into a community?

Every housing provider has them — the residents who never respond to surveys, rarely attend meetings, and quietly endure issues without complaint. They are the “silent residents.” Not disengaged, not indifferent, but often unheard. And in a sector built on listening, their silence speaks volumes.

Understanding who these residents are — and why they don’t engage — is one of the most important steps towards fair, inclusive service design. Silence doesn’t always mean satisfaction. 

More often, it signals barriers, fear, or fatigue.

Who Are the Silent Residents?

Silent residents come from every demographic, but they share one thing in common: barriers to participation. These may be practical — lack of internet access, mobility issues, language barriers — or emotional, such as low confidence, anxiety, or past experiences of not being listened to.

Psychographic segmentation helps us see the full picture. The “Reassure”, “Assist”, and “Nurture” groups, for example, often face overlapping challenges: poor health, literacy difficulties, or digital exclusion. Many find phone calls stressful, official letters confusing, and group settings intimidating.

For some, silence is a form of self-protection — a shield against systems that once dismissed or overwhelmed them. Others simply don’t believe their views will make a difference. And when feedback goes unanswered, silence deepens.

Where Are They?

You won’t find silent residents on social media threads or resident panel minutes. They’re in the homes where surveys remain unopened, or where “no reply” becomes the default. But their absence from data doesn’t mean they’re absent from experience.

They’re the single parents juggling night shifts, the older residents wary of technology, or those living with long-term health conditions who prioritise daily survival over engagement. They are, in many ways, the residents most affected by housing decisions — yet least represented in shaping them.

How Do We Give Them Voice?

Giving silent residents voice starts with changing how we listen. Traditional surveys and consultation events reach only the most confident or digitally connected. To truly hear everyone, we must diversify the ways people can contribute.

Face-to-face visits, phone calls at convenient times, pop-up conversations on estates, Easy Read versions of policies, and visual or translated materials all make engagement more accessible. But inclusion is not just logistical — it’s cultural. It requires empathy, patience, and persistence.

This is where Bee The Change makes a difference. Through its creative, conversation-driven format, it invites every participant to play, reflect and influence — without pressure or hierarchy. Each token, question and scenario is designed to unlock stories that might otherwise remain untold.

Residents who have never spoken up before find confidence through play. Staff gain insight into barriers they hadn’t recognised. And both sides discover that engagement isn’t about speaking louder — it’s about listening deeper.

The Power of Hearing the Quietest Voices

When silent residents are finally heard, the impact is transformative. Services improve, trust grows, and communities strengthen. Their lived experience brings honesty and balance — highlighting what policies overlook and what really matters day-to-day.

But unlocking those voices takes more than invitations; it takes intention. It’s not about getting residents to speak — it’s about creating conditions where they want to.

So perhaps the real question for every organisation is this:

Are we designing engagement for the residents who already speak — or for the ones who are still waiting to be heard?