For some it's a way of making ends meet, for others it’s about the thrill of the swap. Bartering culture may have a long history, but it also has a thriving present here in Glasgow.

By Rhiannon J Davies

When Hannah* found out that, after years of being on the waiting list, she was finally getting keys to her own council flat, she was beyond excited. But it was short notice, and she realised that she had nothing to furnish it with, nor much money to spend on kitting it out. She posted in a Facebook group, Brilliant Bartering, and within minutes she was inundated with offers of furniture, white goods, pictures, wallpaper and more.

Hannah was overwhelmed: “I was actually moved to tears by the generosity and kindness of the community of people on this forum, to give a helping hand to a complete stranger. It’s so lovely to see that during difficult times. Thanks to these people who I’ve never met, I can start to make my house a home and have a new start.”

Brilliant Bartering was set up as a Facebook group by Sarah Poppins* in 2014, after she successfully bartered a shoe tidy she no longer wanted for some tea bags via her personal Facebook page: “It got me thinking about if I could start to reduce the amount of things I bought, by bartering what I already had instead. So I set up the group to give me and my friends a platform to do this, and it just snowballed from there. Some storage boxes for a house plant; a pair of jeans for a loaf of bread; a wardrobe for a big pot of home-cooked food. One of the early barters that has for some reason stuck in my mind is a barter of an adult tricycle for a bespoke tattoo.”

My sourdough starter for your kombucha scoby

There are now nearly 17,000 people in the Glasgow group, and versions have been set up in 16 different regions across Scotland. During the height of lockdown, the group was suspended until admins felt swaps could be carried out responsibly and safely. ‘My sourdough starter for your kombucha scoby’ became a cliché of the Southside’s locked-down urbanites. But there have been some much more surprising barters too – from swapping a watermelon for a printer, to swapping a VW Polo for a few craft beers, and everything in between.

Poppins feels it’s been such a success because it’s become a community: “There’s a personality and a heart to the group. I've heard people say lovely things about the group, like it being a happy little corner of the internet or that it restored their faith in humanity during difficult times. I love it when the group comes together to help people out.”

Some people come at it from an environmental angle, wanting to reduce items going to landfill

She adds that members use it for different reasons: “Some people come at it from an environmental angle, wanting to reduce items going to landfill. Some love the idea of a society that doesn't rely on money. Some people like to know an item will be used and treasured by someone else. For some it's a way of making ends meet, filling the cupboards, getting a birthday present for their kid or furnishing a home when they have very little. For some it's a way of stocking up on booze for Christmas! It can also just be a brilliant anecdote to tell your friends. Brilliant Bartering is all these things, and more, to its members and that's why it's so great.”

The barter economy – the direct exchange of goods – is often cited as the precursor to our current monetary system, but research has found little evidence for this. Instead, anthropologists have found examples of gift economies being prevalent. In these systems, the exchange is usually a result of existing social relationships rather than the impersonal market relationships we’re used to. These tend to exist more informally between pals who do a favour without expecting something in return, but who might find the kindness returned to them in time.

These types of exchanges don’t just happen between individuals, companies get involved too. Lockdown saw some local businesses adopt a ‘pay-it-forward’ model. The LGBTQ+ bookstore, Category Is Books, created a queer books fund that worked digitally when the pandemic forced them to close their doors. Piatto café, in Shawlands, implemented a scheme whereby people could buy NHS workers a meal, which was then free for them to collect.

From September 2018 until October 2020, Govanhill even had its own dedicated bartering space. The Govanhill Swap Market grew out of the People’s Bank of Govanhill project, initiated by artist Ailie Rutherford.

It turned a former pawn shop on Victoria Road into a community hub. Over the two years it operated, around 2000 people signed up as members. It operated a ‘swaps and shares index’ which fluctuated according to community need. For example, thick coats were worth more points in the winter, when people were asking for them.

Beyond the exchange of goods, it also became a place to exchange knowledge, skills and ideas. One year into the project, 123 skills had been swapped and 8 languages shared through workshops, talks and more informal social events. The multilingual team that ran the shop created a welcoming environment for people of all different backgrounds to stop by.

Unfortunately, funding came to an end and the lease ran out on the Victoria Road space. Rutherford says it will be missed: “The Swap Market’s closure is quite a big loss for a lot of people – people who don’t have access to the internet. It was a place where people could just come and hang out. But it was a tiny space and even if it was to reopen, it wouldn’t work in today’s context.”

But there was more to the Swap Market than a simple exchange of goods, skills and services, as Rutherford explains: “The People’s Bank of Govanhill project was about feminist economics and what that looks like in practice at a local level. We’re now developing a new project called String Figures, which is looking at how we can form a decentralised exchange network that is based on the principal of mutual care. We’re working with different local creative or activist groups, looking at how we might create this non-monetary exchange network of mutual support, and how we can support each other through these increasingly difficult times.”

Like ‘lockdown’ or ‘furlough’, ‘mutual aid’ is a term that became common parlance in this, the strangest of years of the 21st century. Social media platforms played host to formalised networks where people provided services or goods, without explicitly receiving anything in return, much as is seen in gift economies. The Southside Self-Isolation Supporters group was one of the first to form. Online tools such as Google forms were used to create back-end systems and spreadsheets. People were encouraged to sign up to be ‘Street Champions’, to have a better chance of reaching those not online.

Volunteers received phone calls asking them to contact a vulnerable neighbour and collect their messages, pick up a prescription, walk a dog. By providing these services without expectation of monetary compensation, it enabled new, meaningful connections to be made. Like Brilliant Bartering, the SIS group grew exponentially in a matter of days, with thousands of people joining to offer support.

For many people who have exchanged favours or household items, it’s not so much about the goods themselves, but the sense of community that comes with it. As one member comments: “The best barters are when you end up in an area of town you have never been in, and meet some wonderful people whom you wouldn't otherwise have met. The conversations are the best bits.”

*some names changed for privacy