BY ALEC SWAN
There comes a time, usually when the first frost bites hard and the last curlew’s call fades across a barren moor, when one must ask serious questions of those entrusted with the guardianship of our natural world. Are they merely incompetent, or have they, in the words of a more cynical age, simply come to see the public as an endless cash cow with a conveniently short memory?
Let us talk, then, of the Royal Society for the Protection of Birds. A grand title for a grand operation.
The RSPB, we are told, currently holds banked savings of roughly £293.4 million. Let that number settle for a moment. Nearly three hundred million pounds of public and membership money, sitting in the bank, collecting dust and interest. In the world of charity governance, hoarding is a cardinal sin. It flies directly in the face of the Charity Commission’s clear stance on the matter—that funds should be deployed in pursuance of charitable aims, not locked away as a perpetual endowment for a pension fund or a rainy day so wet it might drown us all.[1]
And yet, the money still flows. To the tune of over £22 million annually in government payments, the taxpayer subsidises this machine. The RSPB’s income for the year ending March 2025 stands at an astonishing £194.9 million, with outgoings of £176.8 million.[2] One wonders, idly, if the remaining millions are for the purchase of a new set of gold-plated binoculars for the boardroom, or perhaps simply to top up that fortress of savings.
The question we must ask is simple: What have we got for it? The answer, it seems, is less than nothing. It is a tragedy of biblical proportions, dressed in a green logo and a smile.
Consider the case of Lake Vyrnwy. This is not speculation; it is a matter of public record and bitter, visual evidence. A 2019 BBC documentary, Iolo: Saving the Land of the Wild, featured the resident naturalist Iolo Williams bemoaning the state of the site.[3] When he was a lad, before his employers took over some 30 years previously, the place teemed with life—lapwing, curlew, yellowhammer, water voles. Now, it was a shadow of its former self. He was, naturally, begging for donations to restore it.
The irony, of course, was so thick you could cut it with a ploughshare. The RSPB’s own 2007 management plan set specific recovery targets for curlew and black grouse at Lake Vyrnwy. They have comprehensively failed to meet them.[4] Data shows that between 1978 and 1986, when the RSPB held only an advisory role, the curlew population averaged 24 pairs a year. Following changes in moorland management, numbers plummeted, averaging two pairs between 2000 and 2006. The RSPB’s target of five pairs was consistently missed, with only one pair nesting in 2024. Black grouse numbers have often been in single digits, far below the target of 15 lekking males.[4] A 2021 bid to the National Lottery, of which the RSPB was part, described the reserve’s condition in “dramatically negative language,” warning that curlew, black grouse, and merlin could cease to appear as breeding species.[5] This bid appears to be an admission of management failure.
One report from 2025 described an experienced birdwatcher touring the reserve in June 2024 and finding it to be an “avian desert.”[4] The report highlights that community surveys found local residents ranking job creation and property maintenance above environmental concerns, with nearly all comments critical of the RSPB’s role, citing limited community engagement and poor estate condition.[4]
I recall pointing out to Mr Williams that the National Lottery Heritage Fund had donated in excess of £200,000 for that very same purpose years prior. In 2021, the figure was substantial, and the assurance was that it would save the black grouse. Where had it gone? Where was the evidence of restoration? The silence from the RSPB was deafening. Worse still, my pointing this out on their platform resulted in a swift and childish banning from their Facebook page. It seems the RSPB prefers the fawning sycophant to the enquiring citizen. Is that the charity we are meant to respect? One that blocks the truth like a child covering their ears? I have seen more robust debate in a parish council meeting over a planning application for a piggery.
The truth is that the decline at Vyrnwy is a direct consequence of the RSPB’s management, or lack thereof. They took on a working landscape and, with the best intentions of the middle-class naturalist, appear to have reduced it to a silent wasteland. They then had the audacity to ask the National Lottery for more money to fix the problem they had created. Is this charity, or is it a churn?
A report commissioned by the Regional Moorland Groups and published in June 2025 examined nearly five decades of land management at Lake Vyrnwy. It found that farms and estates elsewhere in Wales, operating with a fraction of the RSPB’s public funding, have demonstrated the ability to produce food sustainably while increasing biodiversity.[6] These landowners typically receive less than a quarter of the public funds directed to the Lake Vyrnwy reserve.[6]
Since 2017, the RSPB has acquired over 8,500 hectares of new land.[7] They expand, they consume, they accumulate. But what is the point of owning the land if you cannot manage the wildlife upon it? Their current “review” of operations, which reportedly includes closing shops and cafés to pay for rising costs, suggests a body that is more concerned with the real estate portfolio than the declining species on the ground.
Given this, is the time not now here when we demand of the Charities Commission that they give thought to their charter? Are these reserves truly a charitable act, or are they a hoarding of public assets by a bureaucratic behemoth that has lost its way? The Commission exists to ensure the solvency and proper conduct of charities, but £293 million in savings against a background of desperate pleas for cash is not solvency; it is speculation.
Furthermore, is it not time we demanded of the Lottery Funding Donations department that they apply a clearer, more forensic approach to accountability? They assure us they consider how their largesse is applied, but the case of Lake Vyrnwy suggests their due diligence consists of glancing at a pretty prospectus and signing a cheque. They are funding a failure.
We are assured of the trilogy of Faith, Hope, and Charity. Currently, the only one of any value is Hope, and even that is rapidly approaching the winter of its life and purpose. If the RSPB cannot manage the land, and the Lottery cannot oversee the cash, then we have nothing left but the charity of fools and the hope that someone, somewhere, might start asking the right questions.
Sources
[1] UHY Hacker Young. “Reserves policies: what trustees say vs what regulators expect.” 1 June 2026. Summarises Charity Commission CC19 guidance on reserves policy and expectations.
[2] OSCR (Office of the Scottish Charity Regulator). “Royal Society for the Protection of Birds.” Annual submission for year ending 31 March 2025. Income: £194,964,000; Expenditure: £176,791,000.
[3] Plex. “BBC Documentaries – Iolo: Saving the Land of the Wild” (Season 2019, Episode 74). Confirms Iolo Williams’ documentary about wildlife decline at Lake Vyrnwy.
[4] Moorland Association. “RSPB Misses Key Bird Recovery Targets at Lake Vyrnwy.” 4 July 2025. Details of missed curlew and black grouse targets, citing RSPB’s 2007 management plan and 2024 survey data.
[5] BBC News. “Lake Vyrnwy lottery grant refusal for visitor attraction plan.” 5 January 2021. Confirms National Lottery Heritage Fund involvement with the site.
[6] Moorland Association. “New Report Sheds Light on Land Management and Conservation at Lake Vyrnwy.” 23 June 2025. Reports on Professor Simon Denny’s commissioned report on Lake Vyrnwy management and biodiversity outcomes.
[7] The Independent. “Nature reserve announces expansion which could help capercaillie.” 18 December 2025. Confirms RSPB land acquisition at Abernethy. The Guardian, 1 February 2025, confirms RSPB expansion at Geltsdale.
Alec Swan is a Norfolk-based countryman.