Who we are

Formed in January 2013, we are a small group that operates solely online, existing to find those in need, and give them help when they need it. Our method is simple: we receive money in, and we give it back out again to those who need it most.

Now we’re bigger, we have valued part-time employees to manage the volume of referrals we receive, but we still distribute the vast majority of all income to those in need, keeping as close as possible to our roots while still paying a living wage (how lovely to be able to create jobs!).

Who we help 

Many of our recipients are working families, who are finding that the money they earn doesn’t cover the constantly rising food/heating bills. We have also aided disabled people who have been declared ‘fit for work,’ who have been left with no income and no job prospects, as well as folk who have been victims of crime in the form of muggings or theft. And, of course, we help people who have had their benefits sanctioned, wrongly cancelled, or are waiting weeks for new claims to be approved and paid, with nothing in the meantime.

How we work

We decided early on that we did not wish to have any set criteria for help. The idea of giving potential recipients long forms to fill in to prove their need is galling to say the least, and goes against our belief system. We currently only accept applications from our trusted referral agencies, who keep us plenty busy, and help us pay out funds as fast as we can to those who need it.

To avoid the risk of being defrauded, and because we have such limited funds, we offer only one-time donations. We do not accept direct applications for help.

A little history

We have changed so much from our inception over ten years ago. While we no longer have the original biscuit flavour, we have a much bigger tin, and can give so much more out.

Inception

Once upon a time, in late 2012, Jemima saw someone on Facebook (let’s call her Beth), whose fridge-freezer had broken. Beth was distraught: she had no money to replace it – or the food in it that would spoil. Hot on the heels of announcements of the new “bedroom tax” where poor people were already worried for their welfare, Jemima wasn’t having Beth and her kids struggling. She crowdfunded for a new fridge, and then asked Beth where to have it delivered. 

It was surprisingly easy, but it wasn’t enough. There were too many people like Beth, and Jemima pondered: what if we could help more people like her? 

And so the imaginatively titled Small Social Fund (to become The Biscuit Fund) was born.

Why Biscuits?

Galvanised into forming by welfare cuts, we were looking for a new name at the same time as we heard news of the amount spent by government ministers on biscuits. We joked about how nice it would be to have a “biscuit fund” and the name stuck. 

How we used to biscuit

Our little group of members started out as a small Facebook group, most of us with first hand experience of poverty ourselves, who all paid into our tiny fund. Our agents kept a ‘watchful eye’ on various online and offline sources for people in dire need, and put them forward (anonymously) to the other agents for their suggestions on how best we could help. We would share the cases we found, decide how much to offer them, then approach them with a surprise gift. We had absolutely zero overheads, so every penny (except PayPal fees) went to people in need.

Because there’s always a tiny risk of unscrupulous people asking for help where it’s not needed, we decided very early on that we would have to remain a bit of a secret organisation, and our own identities were kept anonymous.

You can read all about our roots in the first news article about us.

A bigger biscuit tin

Of course, with national publicity, public donations started coming in, and the scope of our work changed dramatically over the next few years. With extra money came a need to find more people to give that money to, so we started building relationships with organisations such as Citizens Advice Bureaux and charities who work directly with people in need. We now accept their applications for the people they meet, effectively making them our agents, too.

We desperately miss the secretive, personal touch of our roots, but it’s just not practical any more – and now we can help so many more people than our original model, which is better than the most giant chocolate hobnob ever.