Ian Allsop stakes his claim for the gold medal in the 2012 cynicism marathon.

Welcome to my first column of 2012. Or to give the year its official name, Olympic Year Twenty- Twelve. This could be an expensive time for journalists as every time you write ‘2012’ without permission from the Games’ organisers you have to give Lord Coe a fiver.

I am not one for making predictions to fill space, nor am I one to look back on what I wrote a year ago about not making predictions to fill space, to fill space.

The potentially embarrassing thing about soothsaying is that if anyone does check what you said previously you can look like a, to use a technical term, right chump. For example, I stated last February: “I think the government is hoping that by sheer excess of usage, Big Society will be talked and willed into existence on its own. I predict it won’t.” No one else was saying this. I stood out on a limb, like a Mayan, while others scoffed.

But now I feel like the Harold Camping of civil society as we see Cameron’s vision fully in place, clearly defined and understood by everyone and working to a degree of brilliance he can only have dreamed of.

But back to 2012. There is no indication that charities will face anything other than a continued struggle with cuts to funding, pressure on donations, and increased work with a reduced workforce.

But, hey, at least there are some big feel-good distractions on the horizon, such as the aforementioned Olympics.

In many ways the Olympic ideal embodies the principle of grassroots community volunteer involvement on a global scale. Or it used to.

I live near the main Olympic site and it has been exciting to see the infrastructure rise from the wasteland, if you like watching large over-priced stadia do that kind of thing. And I am a huge sports fan who can recall getting up early to watch the big events during the Los Angeles and Seoul games in the 1980s. But I am sadly underwhelmed by this one, even verging on – and this may surprise regular readers – cynical.

While I am not saying that it is largely a costly yet money-spinning (for some) vanity exercise with a bit of sport thrown in, I’m afraid that is what it is.

There has been a lot of rhetoric about “the legacy of the Games” which is in no way related to justifying the huge amounts being spent, but I can’t help feeling that the main legacy will be people looking back and asking where the legacy they were promised is. Oh, and a shiny new Westfield shopping centre making stacks for commercial concerns with an underused and decaying sporting-event park tacked on to it.

Royal patronage

For those who don’t want to get distracted by a showpiece international sports jamboree there is a diamond jubilee to look forward to. An opportunity for local communities to get together and celebrate something that gets to the very essence of what makes this country great. Privilege.

To be fair to the royals, they do undertake a lot of charitable work. Why, their taxpayer-bankrolled existence is the very epitome of state-funded public service delivery. Their patronage can be invaluable.

How does this work? Well, in Marxian terms, the poor in society are patronised by pampered types, symbolising the very nature of an unequal society, lending their name to causes that, in part, exist only because of the very nature of an unequal society.

For the charities that have royal blessing it can be a huge boost to publicity and fundraising, assuming you don’t end up with one of those royals ‘gone bad’ who can damage your cause. But, as long as you match the person carefully, you can avoid the kind of situation where, hypothetically, a pro-slaughtering-wildlife- with-a-shotgun Prince ends up as president of a wildlife-preservation organisation.

Of more direct relevance to the charity sector than the Queen’s own celebration of longevity are the silver jubilees of umbrella groups Acevo and CFDG.

Congratulations to them both and I hope the landmarks won’t make any member of Civil Society Media’s editorial team who may have been involved in the early days of the organisations feel too old. I am confident that any self-congratulatory nostalgia will not overshadow the vital advocacy and support work both bodies will need to continue on behalf of their members. John Tate (John-Tate)

Their experience and strength will be vital for organisations facing an Olympian task to survive in 2012. Meanwhile, I am off to write a cheque out to Seb for £20.