Orlando Fraser is savouring his piece of shortbread. “Sadly, this is my final visit as chairman of the Charity Commission before I step down,” he says. “I have done hundreds of trips to animal charities, drug centres, Surfers Against Sewage, the Mary Rose, Manchester City Football Club, everything big and small.”
We are sitting in the café at Chartwell, the former home of Sir Winston Churchill, in Kent, having had a guided tour of his paintings, brick walls, Nobel prize and fishponds. “I thought it would be perfect to end with the National Trust as it’s one of our flagships but it’s also because Clemmie, my wife, is Winston Churchill’s great-granddaughter, so that sealed the deal. She and my four children have been incredibly supportive as I’m always on the road.”
Fraser, a barrister, was second choice for the job, which pays £62,000 a year, three years ago, and a contested one, considered too establishment: a pale, male Gloucestershire barrister, son of the historian Lady Antonia Fraser and Sir Hugh Fraser. But as one normally reticent senior civil servant said: “He won us over with his huge work ethic and negotiating skills.”
“I have eaten a lot,” says Fraser, 57, looking down at his stomach, but he’s also had to navigate a series of contentious issues. “My first visit was to Wag in Newcastle, which is a moving dog-petting charity. Afterwards, there was the biggest pile of meat pies, Victoria sponges, sausage rolls, eclairs, even whole chickens. It was just me. I realised this was no moment to shirk my duties, so I ate my way through it all. This has been a very nourishing job.”
Everyone, Fraser says, has been extremely hospitable. “It’s broadly speaking a lovely sector with lovely people doing lovely things, far more fun than being the watchdog for rapacious water companies or the oil and gas sectors. Obviously, sometimes they go Awol but the emanations of love and kindness and compassion every day from the volunteers, donors and staff in this sector would affect even the most cynical and jaded.”
The commission oversees more than 170,000 charities, and commissioners date back hundreds of years when they toured the country on horseback. “It’s because they are so close to our heart and people give so much time and money that there needs to be a strong feeling of trust,” he says. “When a charity goes wrong it gets huge attention and rightly so. The challenge has been to support the majority, while intensely scrutinising the complicated cases.”
Surely, some should be amalgamated; there are 1.2 million people employed in the sector and another 6.6 million volunteers. “There is often an overlap. We do try to encourage mergers, but what motivates one person to do a wonderful act might not work exactly within another charity. It is hard in the case of bereavement charities set up in honour of a family member who has died tragically if they have little experience of running something and get into financial trouble.”
Captain Sir Tom Moore’s charity is an obvious example, where the Ingram-Moore family were found by the commission to have been disingenuous and misleading in the appropriation of the funds, he says. “But the late Deborah James was the contrast. She did amazing fundraising for bowel cancer but she gave it all to Cancer Research UK, who already had the lawyers, accountants and trustees and could deliver her wishes.”
Charities are often set up by charismatic heads and driven personalities. “They are very necessary to get the thing started, but they sometimes get overenthusiastic,” Fraser says, diplomatically.
Surprisingly few go rogue, he suggests. “We get a few thousand inquiries at any one time, but they can vary from tiny ones like, ‘I can’t file my reports on time’ to huge ones like whistleblowing on Prince Harry’s African charity Sentebale, when there has been a dispute between the chair, Sophie Chandauka, and the trustees. These can become very intense emotionally, particularly if the charity was set up surrounding a death, because emotions go through the roof, but we need, expect and require trustees to remember this is not personal; they have to act in the charity’s and beneficiaries’ best interests, not theirs.”
After the founders, Prince Harry and Prince Seeiso of Lesotho resigned from Sentebale, the commission stepped in. “We are on a fact-finding mission,” he says. “We have great investigators and lawyers who go from one complicated charity to the next and talk to everyone involved. They are usually complex issues and take time. But we have hundreds of years of experience and have learnt to be balanced.”
The commission, he says, has only 430 staff, down from 600 in 2008. “Yet the sector itself has now doubled since 2010 in terms of income, to £96 billion, and our responsibilities have increased, including extremism, alleged hate speech and overt political campaigning, but we aren’t a security agency. We have £30 million a year, there is only so much we can do.”
The sector often relies on whistleblowers to police the community. “Sometimes it’s the Jewish community complaining about hate speech from mosques or individuals pointing out the misuse of social media posts or support for terrorist organisations. We might tell the charity off or strike them off, or in the case of the Islamic Centre for England, which was taking instructions from Iran’s Ayatollah Khamenei we took it over from the trustees. We do quite a few referrals to the police, co-investigate and help the security agencies.”
Fraser’s hardest task has been to control the politicisation of some of the biggest charities. “When I arrived, there was a lot of uncertainty and argument about overt political campaigning. I decided to set clear boundaries. Political campaigning can happen in furtherance of your services, but it must be done in a measured, respectful way, not like the aggression you see in politics. That seems to have dialled down the temperature and halved complaints.”
The culture wars have been another problematic issue. “We get a lot of complaints about wokery, it is not an expression I can regulate about. But if a charity decides it’s not so much a charity but an engine for social progress, we can step in. Rainbow lanyards for National Trust employees is not something we would intervene on,’ he says. “But trustees have to consider their charity’s reputation and be careful. If they go too far, they could find they lose support. Museums and galleries need to think about their labelling. Charities would do best to avoid being distracted by the culture wars, calm down and focus on sticking to their core purposes.”
So, he wouldn’t suggest that arts organisations focus on correcting past evils such as slavery among their original donors or when describing exhibits. “It all depends on how it is done. I don’t think most people are anti-British or anti-our past history. I went out with some of our aid charities to Romania and I saw a great pride in what this country does in international aid.”
The royal family, he says, gives British charities an edge. His wife, Clemmie, was a five-year-old bridesmaid at Prince Charles and Diana’s wedding, but Fraser had not met the King until he took on his current role. “The royals are extremely valuable to the sector and vital for philanthropy. Royal involvement boosts giving, and they are staggeringly generous with their time. The King is constantly highlighting good causes and creating his own charitable endeavours even though he isn’t in great health.”
In contrast, Fraser suggests the super-rich should be encouraged to do more. “We have fewer big donors than many countries, but we need to celebrate philanthropists instead of hounding or shaming them. Give them a small gong or an invitation to meet a royal.”
Three-quarters of people in this country donate, he says, but fewer among the richest. “Charities can’t just rely on the generosity of the middle classes. These companies and high net worth individuals need to step up. We ask billionaires politely whether they are going to give all their money to their children when they die, usually they say no, so you say, ‘Why not give it away while you are still alive when you have some control.’ That gets a conversation going.”
The non-dom flight hasn’t helped, he says. “Quite a lot of the super-rich are saying the tax situation is different now, they can’t give as much, some have gone abroad, then there’s the inheritance tax issue; it’s hard to ask them to cough up more for charity. It is a worry that current financial circumstances will act as a brake just as we need charities most.”
Some, he says, are also concerned about being boycotted, so the commission produced guidance about accepting, rejecting and returning funds. “You can’t virtue signal as trustees, you can reject an offer in extreme circumstances if there is a terrible reputational issue or the funds are unlawful. In these times of boycotts, we needed to spell this out as we have seen with book festivals and prizes: even if you don’t like investment firms or oil firms, their money is going to do good in the hands of charities.”
But should companies and individuals be allowed to whitewash their reputations? “Once you try to analyse the motives of a donation you are in terrible trouble. Whether someone is giving money to look good, is not the trustees or our problem. If you go out and volunteer on the street, part of it may be to make yourself feel good too.”
Let’s lob in another contentious issue: what about the government’s decision to impose VAT on private schools which have charitable status? “VAT isn’t in our remit as it’s a tax issue. The only thing I would say is what has happened here for the first time is a change in the principle of unity, so all registered charities were treated the same until now. If you consider schools differently, it sets a precedent. That’s a big deal. The danger in the future is a different government could decide the dam has been breached and tax other charities in a tit for tat.”
Fraser grew up volunteering for charities. After university he led a convoy taking provisions to war-torn Bosnia; more recently he worked with his local Rugby Portobello Trust in west London, helping people affected by the Grenfell Tower fire to resettle. He says he’s always liked fighting for the underdog. “It may be that I’m the youngest of six, or that my dad, who was an MP, was an underdog fighter. My grandfather Lord Longford championed penal reform and my stepfather, the playwright Harold Pinter, was an obsessive campaigner. I went on rallies as a child with my mother and Harold. They were all unafraid to take on causes.’
It’s quite a family. “I don’t feel daunted by them; they’ve set me targets. I lost my dad at 16. I want to imagine him thinking I’ve done a good job. My mother is 93, she hasn’t stopped telling me what she’d like me to do. But she liked this job. She likes people keeping busy.”
Fraser is returning to the bar full-time. “I’ll miss it. “I will give more to charity now. I’ve always donated every month to favourite causes, but now I know the vast majority are doing extraordinary work. It’s made me proud of this country.”
Orlando Fraser
Born May 9, 1967
Educated University of Cambridge
Career His charity work began in 1992 when he took an aid convoy to Bosnia. Stood unsuccessfully as the Conservative candidate for North Devon in the 2005 general election. Has been a commercial barrister for 30 years. Was appointed Queen’s Counsel in 2014. Served on the board of the Charity Commission from 2013-2017 and has been chairman since 2022.
Family Son of the author Lady Antonia Fraser and the Tory MP Sir Hugh Fraser. Married to Clementine Hambro, Winston Churchill’s great-granddaughter. They have four children.
