NO matter who had formed the next government, local councils were going to bear the brunt of an ice-cold Treasury wind. From a Westminster point of view, local authorities are an easy target when it comes to cuts. And it’s a lower political risk too because local councillors, not MPs, take the stick.

While national politicians carve anodyne promises in tablets of stone, councils actually have to do stuff. Everyday stuff, like the bins. Usually unfairly, ‘The Council’ is often reviled by locals. Sure, everyone has a horror story they’re eager to regale. To be fair, though, you can’t evidence the quality of council services on the basis of a long-passed personal inconvenience.

North East local authorities have taken a much worse battering than the southern shires. Proud old ironmaster councils which felt that they knew what was best for their area have done remarkably well in keeping the show on the road. But they simply can’t do everything anymore.

The archaeology of councils’ community footprints are firmly pressed across the North-East’s landscape and memory. County Durham, strapped for cash, did an inventory of their community buildings a couple of years back and found that they had 120 community buildings which they simply could not afford to keep up. The only game in town was to transfer their assets to housing associations or local community groups.

A brave strategy. It’s hard enough, politically, to refuse communities the opportunity to do something new. To stop providing facilities communities have always had – even if, ironically, they’re hardly used them – is harder still.

Colin Hillary, shortly after he retired, became chair of the Framwellgate Moor Youth & Community Association. A little dilapidated but solid, their community centre, housed in a Victorian village school built in 1877, is now coming back to life. The council stumped up much of the money to make it water-tight and helped the association to get in shape to take control. Now, they have to stand on their own feet.

While showing me in and around the buildings, Colin let me know, in his steady Durham way, that this had been a bit of a journey – and certainly not one they wanted, initially, to take. The association now wants to open an internet café, a play area, renew more public rooms and fit a kitchen. “We’ve got the plans, we’ve got the planning permission,” Colin told be-suited officers from eleven of the twelve NE councils at an Institute for Local Governance event held at his centre, “but we haven’t got the money.”

Durham University’s Fred Robinson was one of the team the council pulled together to smooth the way towards asset transfer. At the start, he says, many local groups were implacably opposed to the idea and accused the council of walking away from their responsibilities. These were ‘liabilities’, not assets, many said. But Professor Robinson says that the community organisations are in better shape now than they were before. As Colin said, “I didn’t want to do this,” but energised by responsibility and the freedom to shape things without oversight, there was a chance to make things happen. Isn’t this what David Cameron was on about in his long-forgotten Big Society speech? I don’t think so. Was it a strategy, many have asked, or an elaborate excuse to abstain responsibility for poor areas?

Durham County Council decided to speculate money to accumulate social growth. Over £2 million was invested in the asset transfer programme and, remarkably, 96 of the 120 community buildings are still in use – 39 of which are now run independently by community groups and the rest mainly by housing associations. This has saved the council about £800,000 a year in staff costs and as much as £8 million in future capital costs. And the pioneers, who overcome their anger that there’s no other game in town than to take control of community buildings, deserve medals.

What happens next? Forget talk of austerity and the deficit. With Labour in turmoil for five years and unelectable for ten, the Tories' not-so-hidden-agenda is for smaller government. So communities will have no choice but to step up and serve themselves. Will the impetus for future generations to run them become the ‘new normal’? In terms of usage, the poorer or more isolated areas may have a fair wind. Following closures of churches and chapels, local shops and pubs, the demand for their facilities and services will grow.

There’s a risk that some such ventures, without proper subsidy, will be smothered at birth. In posher areas this may be less likely, where there’s more disposable income to spend on societies, clubs and classes. And especially so if they have the wherewithal to win grants or to call on expert helpers for free. In areas with ageing, poorer or transient populations – success may be more of a challenge.

*Tony Chapman is a Professorial Fellow of St Chad’s College, Durham University