Simone Bacchini writes:

On 27 February 2012, I attended a one day conference on social sciences and the Olympic Games. Before you give your blogger too much credit for his effort to bring you new stories, I must confess that it didn’t take much effort, being held—as it was—only a few metres away from my office, in the British Library’s Conference centre. It was a joint event hosted by the British Sociological Association (BSA) Sociology of Sport & Recreation Studies Groups. 

The programme (http://bit.ly/zv7EuB) was particularly interesting, covering four areas: the Olympics, Space and the City; International and Transnational Development; Politics and Security; and The Olympic Games and Civil Society. 

Whereas all the speakers in the first three sections were academics, the two people, a man and a woman, who spoke in the last one, were not. They were members of the public; representatives—one might argue—of “the Big Society”. What the spoke about was the legacy of London 2012. Nothing new here, you might think; we’ve been hearing about it for quite some time and – surely- we’ll hear much more about it in the weeks, months, and possibly years to come. Or maybe we won’t. 

Yes, because the “legacy” those two people talked about was not the cosy, warm, reassuring concept that the term is associated with, especially in language about the Olympics. Whereas what I would call “the official legacy” is definitely reassuring and has unambiguous positive connotations, the “other” legacy doesn’t; quite the opposite. 

Conference delegates heard about evictions from homes in the Clays Lane Housing Estate and compulsory purchase orders. We heard about the destruction of the Manor Gardens Allotments to make space for the Olympic Park and the distress this caused to people who had been growing flowers and vegetables there for years. Some gardeners – we were told – had even dispersed their dead relatives’ ashes over those small corners of urban soil. 

Both speakers were adamant that they did not want to be seen and portrayed as victims. And there was nothing in what they said that made me think they were ideologically opposed to London – or any other city, for that matter – hosting the Games. These were not ‘spoilsports’ – a tag which sometimes too hastily attached to those who voice concern about large events. They were, quite simply, ordinary Londoners. 

It was instructive to hear their experiences. I was particularly impressed by a comment made by the woman from the allotments. She said that after starting campaigning about the issue, she receive a phone call from an academic who wanted to hear more. She was pleasantly surprised to hear that the issues she was facing were not unique. What was happening to her had happened in other parts of the world, to other people, and had been the object of academic research. So there it was, a revelation: academic research, social research can truly affect people positively. But is this an “impact” that can really be measured by Government bodies? 

I’m glad I was present at the conference. I believe that it is important – and one of the duties of social research – that all voices are heard. Call them dissenting voices, or simply different voices, it doesn’t matter. For listening to them will not result in no more Olympics; on the contrary: it will give us better ones.