On 13 October, I had the privilege of attending a breakfast in the Old Ballroom of Mansion House, the official residence of the Lady Mayor of the City of London. Hosted by the Lady Mayor herself, Dame Susan Langley, and organised by the London-based Joseph Centre for Dignified Work, it brought together bankers, investors, lawyers and social entrepreneurs. The conversation, however, concerned mostly subjects we don’t associate with one of the world’s foremost hubs for international banking: stewardship, human flourishing, and the common good.
What brought these people together was the ‘impact economy’: a growing field of businesses, investors and organisations which deliberately pursue positive social or environmental outcomes through their economic activity. Rather than simply donating profits to good causes, they seek to do good through the way they conduct business or invest their money.
The breakfast included a panel on the impact economy, with speakers such as Dame Elizabeth Corley, Chair of Schroders, one of the world’s largest asset management firms; Luke Fletcher of the law firm Bates Wells; and Heather Davenport from the UK Government’s Office for the Impact Economy.
Perhaps there have always been idealistic start-ups and businesses pursuing the greater good. However, I was surprised to discover the scale of this economic sector at the breakfast, and indeed the existence of a British government office dedicated to it.
So far, so good. But what does the ‘impact economy’ actually look like in practice?
There are different ways of doing ‘impact’. A social enterprise might sell goods or services and reinvest its profits in tackling homelessness or providing employment. A conventional business might seek independent B Corp certification, proving it is meeting standards of social and environmental performance, transparency and accountability. An impact investor might supply capital to projects intended to deliver both measurable benefits and a financial return on investment. Philanthropy also plays a role, particularly where grants help promising and socially beneficial ideas get started.
These are all related but different ways businesses and investors are trying to make their money work to achieve a positive impact. Taken together, they suggest a shift in how some people think about business: no longer simply asking how much money an activity makes, but also what their business activity makes possible in the world.
Globally, the Global Impact Investing Network estimated that investors managed $1.57 trillion in impact investment in 2024. Research by GIIN suggests annual growth of around 21% since 2019.
Britain offers a striking local example of this global phenomenon. The British Impact Investing Institute estimated that UK-based investors managed £76.8 billion in impact investments, both domestically and internationally, at the end of 2023, up from £57.5 billion at the beginning of 2021.
The change is visible in business culture too. In May 2026, the British organisation B Lab reported more than 10,700 certified B Corporations across 104 countries, twenty years after the movement began with just 81 pioneers.
In November 2025, in recognition of the growing importance of the impact economy, and to connect public priorities with philanthropy, purpose-driven business and private investment, the British Government established an Office for the Impact Economy.
A particularly interesting feature of the breakfast was the prominence given to faith and religious convictions in this economic movement. Several speakers described how their beliefs shaped the way they thought about money, enterprise and responsibility. Dame Elizabeth Corley, for example, spoke about the influence of her Christian Methodist upbringing, while Sanjoy K. Roy, a recipient of the King Hussein Global Business and Interfaith Peace Award, shared how his long-lasting commitment to women’s equality stems from his Hindu faith.
This is not new, of course. Religious communities have been building institutions for public benefit long before anyone coined the term ‘impact investing’. Almshouses, founded through Christian charity and sustained by endowments, still provide homes for around 36,000 people in Britain. Nor is the phenomenon exclusively Christian. Some Muslim investors and business leaders have also been developing their financial activity in ways that fit their ethical commitments; Indonesia, for example, has issued green sukuk, an Islamic finance instrument used to fund environmentally beneficial projects.
Religious communities also do not have a monopoly on ethical enterprise. I was struck by how readily mainstream fund managers, bankers, lawyers and others, including many who were not particularly religious, embraced ideas of stewardship and the common good. There seemed to be a shared humanist conviction that economic activity need not be concerned with profit alone, and that money could be used for doing good in ways not limited to charitable giving.
That said, religious traditions have a particular contribution to make to this conversation, drawing on centuries of reflection on questions like: what is wealth for? What do we owe one another when we have more than most? And what responsibilities do we have towards people we might never meet?
The impact economy is not, it goes without saying, a panacea. There are businesses that will want to claim to be ‘impactful’, even if what they deliver is of little real benefit. This is already the case with organisations of all sizes hunting for attractive sustainability badges that say little about how much they are actually contributing to the environment.
Social enterprises are also especially vulnerable in times of economic instability and face particularly difficult trading conditions. Social Enterprise UK‘s 2025 survey recorded falling turnover and profitability, even as many organisations continued seeking ways to innovate.
Also, charities and public services cannot be replaced by investment in all cases. As we are learning to do business differently, we will have to learn to discern how for-profit businesses, government, philanthropy and civic institutions can complement one another rather than expecting any one to solve everything.
I must confess that I tend to be quite suspicious of profit-driven enterprise that seeks money for its own sake. However, as I left my breakfast with the Lady Mayor, what stayed with me was the possibility that profit could also serve the common good. Some people and organisations will doubtlessly remain focussed on financial success rather than making a positive impact on society. But the tangible growth of the impact economy suggests that change is afoot.
Ultimately, a lot is down to patience, but also to a shared sense of humanity: a recognition that the purpose of economic activity can extend beyond our own prosperity to the wellbeing of others. Social change takes much longer than an electoral term or a quarterly financial report. Building affordable homes, trusted institutions or sustainable livelihoods requires people willing to think in terms of decades and centuries rather than months.
At the end of 2024, the UK’s social impact investment alone was worth about £11.2 billion, representing investments intended to deliver measurable improvements to people’s lives – such as creating employment for disadvantaged people, reducing homelessness, improving access to education or healthcare, or strengthening local communities – alongside financial returns. It is one tangible sign that the desire to use wealth for the benefit of others is finding a place within the economy itself.
There is still a long way to go. But it is a development worth watching and celebrating. I know I will.
