Microenterprises are not a trend.
They are a response.
They emerge wherever people are willing to work but cannot fit into the narrow shapes that modern employment demands. Fixed hours. Stable health. Predictable housing. Emotional capacity. Transport. Paperwork. Confidence. History.
For many people, those requirements are not neutral—they are exclusionary.
A microenterprise is often what remains when the formal economy says not yet, not like that, or not you. It might look small from the outside: a few hours a week, a stall at a market, handmade goods, prepared food, repair work, cleaning, carving, sewing, growing. But inside, it carries something significant.
Agency.
Choice.
Dignity.
In a cost-of-living crisis, when systems are stretched and people are tired, microenterprises matter because they don’t wait for permission. They begin with what is already in someone’s hands.
They don’t fix everything.
They don’t pretend to.
But they offer something increasingly rare: a way to participate economically without disappearing parts of yourself to do so.
Moreover, if you’re exploring microenterprise—personally, organisationally, or practically—I write and consult at human scale. Start with a conversation, not a business plan.
These posts reflect on microenterprises not as programs or side hustles, but as ways people participate in work when life is complex. They are written from the ground up, shaped by lived experience and relationship.
- Chapter 5: Priscilla’s Woodcraft Adventures
- Chapter 4: Cognitive Factory
- Chapter 1: Picking Up Wood
- Chapter 11: When Loyalty Becomes a Limit
- Chapter 8: Strong Hands, New Beginnings.
Discover more from Christiaan McCann | Risks and Solutions for the Vulnerable | Socialwork Projects in Hobart
Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email.
