Stop the funeral march – small businesses are very much alive

Every week someone proclaims the high street “dead” with a EastEnders Christmas special level of melodrama. But Satsuma MD Ellen Widdup says everyone needs to calm down, stop doom-prophesying and join the queues for handmade chutney.

If the high street is “dead”, someone forgot to tell the thousands of people who rammed themselves elbow-first into the Bath Christmas Markets this weekend.

I spent two full days being bodily carried along by a crowd determined to buy handmade soap like it was gold bullion.

Holy mother of scented candles, if this is the end of small business, it’s the most profitable funeral I’ve ever seen.

So why are we seeing the same old refrain this Christmas… the tired narrative that small businesses are collapsing?

Because it’s easier to write an obituary than acknowledge the evolution happening right under our noses (and apparently under Bath Abbey).

A storyline with rubbish date

The problem with the “small businesses are dying” narrative is that it’s propped up by the same quality of data that brought us last week’s Budget leak: chaotic, half-baked and missing the crucial context that would have prevented a national meltdown over breakfast.

But here’s the thing – the doom narrative is convenient for everyone. Politicians get to shout, “Look! Regeneration!” while the media gets its festive dose of clickbait, complete with tinsel and faux despair. Meanwhile big chains get to shrug and mutter, “It’s not us, it’s the economy,” as if that excuses a decade of beige branding and even beige-er customer service.

Meanwhile, the actual statistics are quietly sitting in the corner sipping their mulled wine, raising an eyebrow and saying, “Actually… independent retail is doing surprisingly well, thanks.”

Because the truth – the real truth – is what I saw in Bath: independents selling out, queues around the block, thriving makers, and a public desperate to buy from real humans.

Unsurprisingly, people just don’t want to buy the same mass-produced tat from a fluorescently lit unit next to a vape shop.

A shape-shifting high street

Consumers are not just buying for the sake of it these days. They are curating their haul, looking for meaning, quirk and things they can brag about on Instagram. And small businesses that are thriving have adapted to meet these needs.

Those Bath stalls with branding that slapped, signs that actually told you what they sold, warm humans chatting – they were packed.

I picked up handmade baubles, matcha coffee, chilli-infused chocolate, pickles, jams, funky socks, wooden toys – basically the stocking fillers of dreams.

These all came from small businesses doing three things brilliantly.

First, they were behaving more like communities than cash tills. They chatted. They shared stories. Handed out tasters. Waved hello and told you why they started. That stuff is magnetic. We want connection, not to feel like customer number 427.

Second, they blended cosy offline charm with a genuinely strong online presence. Sure, your stall can smell like cinnamon heaven, but if your Instagram bio reads like hieroglyphics, you’ve lost me. The best traders were handing out slick business cards with links to socials and websites, making it ridiculously easy to continue the journey at home (and yes, I bought more later).

And finally, they specialised like their lives depended on it. No more “we sell everything and also do key cutting.” These businesses had a niche, owned it unapologetically, and made it irresistible.

The good news for brands everywhere

Consumers still love independent.
They still trust people.
They still choose heart (and humour) over convenience.

But only if you actually show up.
With clarity. With purpose. With personality.

Bath was bursting at the seams with small businesses who’ve cracked it.
They’ve leaned into community, story and creative comms – and it’s paying off big time.

And honestly?
It’s the best good-news business story we’ve got right now.