Public/charity sector, digital accessibility, user experience, & communications leader.

Author: jbuller

“Has Bosco been fed?” My gadget could know the answer
Every day my wife and I have the same question: “Has the dog had its food?”

I bet it’s similar worldwide in every household with a pet, at least thought, if not spoken aloud. I have the answer!

Bosco is our ex-racing greyhound. He’ll request more strokes with a paw tap. He’ll whine to go out for a wee. But ask if he’s had dinner and his eyes will convey utter starvation and sadness – regardless of what goodies he’s had recently.

Bosco contemplating getting more food

So we query each other. “Did I do it? Did you? Was that yesterday?”

It’s even worse when the other person is not there. “Did they feed him before they went out and I got home?”

“So should I feed him or not?!”

I have a product idea to overcome this dilemma.

A dog’s dinner of a sign

You may have seen flippable signs saying something like “Fed” and “Feed” on each side. You simply turn it around when the food has been dished out, to remind yourself or inform others.

However the system breaks down as the next mealtime approaches or if someone forget to flip the sign.

Then you are stood wondering

“It says ‘Fed’ but is that from this morning or this afternoon?”

“It says ‘Feed’ yet the bowl is dirty”

The risk is of under or over-nourishment.

Bosco’s gaze always longingly insists it is the former.

My pet idea

3D line drawing of the gadget created by ChatGPT.

I suggest a gadget to make feeding clockwork – a combination of the flip sign and an alarm clock.

After putting out the food, you push a button to both show “Pet fed” and start a timer ticking. It will reset the display to “Feed pet” after say 12 hours.

Anyone seeing it will know that no more grub is necessary until the proper time (which will be indicated too).

Features

I imagine a small, intuitive, accessible, basic device:
- easy-to-read text and braille labels
- large tactile button and timer dial
- spinning disks to display statuses
- short audible alarm when timer expires
- solar panels with battery backup.
- can be freestanding, mounted on a wall or magnetic for putting on a fridge
Of course it’s not foolproof. Neglecting to press the button will be deceptive later and you are back to guessing. But it is better than the manual sign in half of cases.

For different animals you might want the default state to recommend serving something up – or not if that would be worse (for example goldfish).

I tried to think of icons to convey the status instead of English text, to make the gadget international. However, I struggled to devise unambiguous symbols. For example does a tick mark indicate that feeding has been done or is due?

Some households might want even more juicy features.

The souped-up version

Technology could enhance this idea for those who want it. Paired with the food bowl and linked to an app, the gadget could handle multiple pets as well as logging feeding in various ways.

This could be great for some households but is not essential for everyone. Minimal and reliable can beat fancy and complicated.

Use cases

Here are some examples of who could find such gadgets useful.

78-year Miriam is severely visually impaired and lives alone with her faithful guide dog Ben. She can be forgetful and doesn’t like modern tech much. She puts out meaty goodness for Ben at 8am and presses the gadget’s button to start the 8-hour timer.
If unsure at any time she can feel whether Ben is sated. No smartphone required. The gadget is also there for the visiting care worker to check at lunchtime.
Later the clock runs out setting off a bell. The cycle begins again. Less kibble-ing about if Miriam remembered!

Working parents Len and Barb plus son Gary love their tabby cat Sam. They all come and go at various times. It’s hectic, they often don’t see each other. The full-fat gadget tells whoever is home, when Sam last ate. In addition, it could notify everyone about weighing scale checks that the right portion size was given, plus verify with an RFID collar, and a photo if Sam got it before that sneaky stray Pebbles! If so it would reset the display accordingly. Peace of mind and fewer arguments for all

Will I eat my own dog food?

[That’s a business phrase about using your own product to note its drawbacks]

3D render created by ChatGPT. Doesn’t properly depict the windows and spinning status discs, or tactile and braille features.

Speaking to other pet owners, they recognise the problem and that a gadget like this could be useful.

My research says there are various pricey gizmos for scheduling release of pet food and tracking when it is eaten. However, there’s no product quite like this idea on the market – displaying fed status and automatically resetting.

Hardware often fails to cater for people with sensory and dexterity disabilities. My gadget would be as accessible as possible.

I think it could make a real difference to many pet owners. Is that a big stretch?

An online task manager might do it but they don’t always cater for multiple users. Also people are prone to distraction as soon as they pick up their phone to set a status.

Every time I watch Bosco chomping away, I imagine setting the gadget for the day. Then I envisage my wife checking it later, alongside Bosco’s hopeful eyes and panting tongue.

But I’m not in a position to chase this idea down and I don’t want to sit on it.

Have you got a lead to run with it?

So I’m making this idea open-source. If you’re a maker with a 3D printer or a multinational, please explore, prototype, and sell this concept. Bosco and I would love to help develop it and have credit as the inspiration. Wanna play ball?

Your thoughts?

Add a comment with your ideas and opinions.
- Would you like a “Pet Fed” gadget in your home and why?
- What features would you want?
- Is there another solution to this challenge?
- What are your brilliant product ideas — I’d love to hear them
Disclaimer: The gadget would not curb Bosco’s penchant for street food for Saturday night takeaway
15 August 2025
How I could have earned a crust and milked the commuters
It’s evening in the 1990s. I’ve just stepped off the train at Guildford, back from yet another long day at the London office. I’m tired, smelly, achy and hungry – just want to get home and relax in front of the telly.

Then it’ll be back to work all over again. At least I’ll have 5 minutes of calm with the perfect start to my morning: cornflakes with cold milk followed by a slice of buttered toast with loads of jam. And of course my regular evening and morning mugs of tea.

Then it hits me — I forgot to buy bread and milk. Again!

With no open shop on the walk home, I’ve got two options for tomorrow:
1. go hungry and tea(caffeine)-less
2. spend time going to an overpriced café for a sad bap or posh croissant, that isn’t what I really want anyway. (stay tuned for a blog post about that coming soon)
Right there, between the platform and the dark rainy road home, the idea formed. A simple, no-nonsense business that could solve this exact problem for me and millions of others. And made me a packet!

Introducing ‘Bread & Milk’

The concept? A van, parked in the station car park every weekday evening, ready for the 17:53 and 18:17.

Under a fold-out awning, a small, efficient stall selling only the essentials:
- A loaf of bread (white or brown)
- A pint of milk (semi-skimmed or full-fat)
- A combo deal for those who need both
That’s it. No frills. No indecision. Just the basics, sorted before you even leave the station forecourt.

Meeting the customers’ need

This wasn’t just a hunch — the numbers were on my side.
- White bread was still the top choice in the UK, with brown and wholemeal gaining ground.
- Semi-skimmed milk had become the UK’s favourite by the late 90s, but full-fat milk still had a strong following.
  (Source – 1Library)
So, I’d offer:
- White or brown loaf: 50p
- Semi-skimmed or full-fat milk (2-pint): 70p
- Combo deal (any bread + any milk): £1.00
No card readers. No queue hold-ups. A quick handover and you’re off. Pricing would be built around simplicity — easy coins, no fiddly change.

Commuters pouring off of trains would need serving very quickly.

I’d have modelled the operation on the Evening Standard sellers of the time — fast, efficient, and familiar.

People wouldn’t browse. They’d walk up, pay, grab, and go.

No five-minute wait while someone picked between oat or soya. Just:

“White loaf.”
“Full-fat.”
“Combo please.”

Three seconds per customer. As many as possible as they pass by.

The setup

A Transit van would do all the heavy lifting — literally. Inside, crates of bread and milk would be neatly stacked to get in as much as possible, I’d serve out the side door, protected from the elements.

Using the van instead of premises would save time and keep overheads modest:
- Stock costs: around 35p for a loaf, 50p for a bottle of milk
- Fuel and maintenance for the van
- Basic public liability insurance
- Pitch fee to the station or local authority — likely under £20/day in the 90s
- Occasional help from a part-timer when the queues built up
There’d be no need for tills, card readers, or barcodes. Just coins, quick change, and a notebook for stock checks. A small generator would provide refrigeration and lights as necessary.

I’d only need a street trading licence, plus potentially an agreement with the railway authorities.

Early bird bonus

There’s more. Keep that van earning its keep!

It should pull up at 6am in a dense suburban housing estate lacking shops. It’d sell bread and milk to people desperately in a rush who just realised they’ve got nothing, trying to placate a complaining family. Same principles: easy setup, essential food, fast service. A few stops short of running a milk round though.

Making piles of dough

At first, it would be just me and one van. But imagine it scaling to Woking. Surbiton. Epsom and beyond.

Multiple vans. Staff in matching fleeces handing out batches of the day’s essentials to thousands of weary commuters.

By the end of the decade, Bread & Milk could have become a staple brand across the country. The commuter’s quiet lifesaver: a guaranteed breakfast.

It’s a simple model to franchise too. I could have just sat back and creamed off the profits.

It was lean (sorry, skimmed). It was fast. And it solved a real, daily problem.

This isn’t half-baked it could have been a real cash-cow!

Would it have risen?

Maybe. Maybe not.

I like to think “Bread & Milk” could have been a big success. A friendly, familiar face handing over the essentials right when you needed them most.

I’ve not dug in to the numbers seriously but the margins would have been tight. The margins on the items vs overheads of running the van would have required a lot of turnover.

The profit on each loaf of bread and carton of milk would be about 30-35p or the combo of both about 60p. Shifting over 100 of each a day could bring in about £80-120 per day. The stock and consumables would be around £100. Remember the size of the vehicle and person to run it are a limiting factors. Include the annual expenses of the van plus personnel and the viability start to crumble.

As a side-hustle or lifestyle business, the evening operation might work as a tightly run, single person gig. But scaling it or making a substantial income would’ve been difficult.

Adding in a morning suburban run would boost revenue but also mean early starts and late finishes. What would also help is
- higher-margin add-ons such as eggs, though that reduces the speed and simplicity and raise the risk of breakages and mess.
- larger-scale operations (multiple vans)
- better wholesale rates.
Was there enough demand among those commuters and home-makers at these prices?

Could enough have been transported to meet the market demand, then given out in such short bursts as trains arrived and buses left?

If yes, I could have been loafing around today toasting to the proceeds. If not, I’d have been ‘brown bread’.

Just for my ego, and for the sake of argument, let’s say the idea did hold water (and milk).

Would it have been long-lasting or soured?

Of course, no 90s dream comes without its cassette-tape tangles.

Over time we saw:
- Loads more convenience stores — with chains like Tesco Express and Sainsbury’s Local popping up in almost every postcode, open until 11 pm (rather proving my point).
- Lots more breakfast products: Soon many consumers were drinking oat milk, buying sourdough, and asking if things were organic or dairy free. Stocking more varieties would have slowed down service and required a bigger van, more staff, and more wastage.
- The simple “combo” model would have been stretched by ever-diversifying tastes too slowing everyone down, so deterring customers.
Still, for a period pre-millennium people commuted like clockwork and just wanted milk for their brew and bread for the family. This could have worked.

The 1980s and 70s could have been even better
- commuting culture was established
- even fewer convenience stores – many areas had nothing open after 6pm
- people’s tastes were simpler – white bread and full-fat milk dominated
- less competition from vending machines or station retail.
However, the fact that no-one did it, to the point we have heard about, is likely very telling.

The end bit

So why didn’t I do it?

Well, I’m not the entrepreneurial type. Though I do like spotting and solving problems like this – hence my career in the charity/public sector and user experience.

And for another thing, with my poor eyesight, I can’t drive!

So, it never got on the road — but the idea has stayed with me. And now, dear reader, it’s parked in your imagination too.

Use your loaf

Would Bread & Milk have worked for you in your town back in the day?

What would have made it even better than I’ve described?

What was your grand business idea that never happened?

Add a comment with your thoughts — I’d love to hear them.

References:
20 July 2025
The Last Post for the Nightline Association. How does that make you feel?
- In 1997 I left a note in the Surrey Nightline pigeon-hole to volunteer and eventually become the Coordinator
- In 1998 I emailed the leaders of National Nightline with a plea for support.
- In 2000 I launched the first National Nightline website and email list
- In 2003 I added the bulletin board online forum
- In 2006 I led governance reform and the registration project that led to the Nightline Association charity
- In 2007 I set up Google Apps for the recently established nightline.ac.uk domain
- In 2008 We sent news via an email broadcast system for the first time
- In 2025 All the user accounts and the charity were shut down.
James listening to a caller in the Surrey Nightline office (staged). 1998

So here’s my last post on volunteering with the confidential mental health helplines run ‘by students for students’ at universities, then the overarching association body.

A classic way to encourage a person to open up about their difficulties is to ask “How does that make you feel?”. How then do Nightliners feel about the demise of their association?

Call to say what’s on your mind

The timeline above doesn’t convey the deep emotions that I and many others have about our time during and since being part of a local Nightline and the umbrella organisation.

This was evident in the farewell events the Nightline Association held in the weeks before it closed down due to dwindling funding and volunteers and several other factors. People from “a long list of generations of the same family” came together for what were “lovely occasions, despite the sadness felt about the Association being no more.” Here I re-say my piece, augmented by poetic phrases such as these from others.

Alumni at the London Farewell event

One by one alumni spoke movingly of “a unique skill set that became the foundation of a career.” Whether focusing on learning to help people in a crisis, administration or leadership, many echoed the sentiment of Nightline giving them “a steadfast sense of purpose to direct my life in supporting others so they can do what they are good at.” “Nightline gave me a first glimpse into that.”

“That unwavering passion lives on in the experience of the thousands of volunteers who have contributed to this movement in the last 55 years. That’s mind boggling.”

“It’s fascinating to think of the networks and organisations we infiltrate with our unique viewpoints on the world and core of active listening and supporting others that drives us no matter what we do with our lives.”

I had done a lot of the leg work to track down and invite former volunteers to the farewell celebrations. I’d gotten a real buzz from it, which despite a lot of other volunteering I’ve not felt since I was immersed in the Nightline world in the 2000’s. I felt all warm and fuzzy with nostalgia for the culture, comradeship and perhaps dolefully sense of youth too!

I was delighted that so many people answered the call (should have expected nothing less of great Nightliners!). Their reminiscing felt like a wave of love for the movement we’d all been a part of and had consumed such a huge part of our lives for so long. It clearly left an indelible mark on us all and has positively affected so many others through us.

Reflecting

The confidential and non-judgemental principles of Nightline meant people ‘came out’ for the first time to their fellow volunteers long before to anyone else. It was also a group that people with diverse characteristics gravitated towards. So many of us found our tribe(s) and felt part of a profound cause. The stories alumni told at the farewell events were very emotional. Again, as expert Nightliners we listened intently.

The farce of me trying to join Nightline at University of Surrey is a whole other saga that I once serialised. When I did get in, my unanswered plea for help to National Nightline started my mission and story.

James at a Nightline conference in 2001

I set out to build up the umbrella organisation, so that that no local officials would ever again be so powerless and unsupported – wanting to do good through the Nightline concept, but unable to.

For decades at conferences, delegates had been debating Nightline operations.

“Conferences were the highlight of my year: pure inspiration of hearing devotees talking about what they do. You went thinking ‘our way is best’ and then ‘wow, I need to take this idea back’. It showed the power of community despite doing things differently to learn from each other, socialise and celebrate.”

However the gaps between events and the rapid turnover of students made such revelations frustratingly spasmodic and repetitive.

National Nightline website in 2000

I launched the first website and later a mailing list and online forum. We were thrilled with how these massively accelerated communication and progress .

Suddenly officials were collaborating between Nightlines in real-time, breaking down dogma and learning from each other constantly. Sharing resources saved us time and gave quality beyond our own skills to create. We felt empowered and excited at the possibilities of building something bigger than any individual or committee could do in isolation.

National Nightline bulletin board 2005

Change is also unsettling though. We began challenging long established doctrines. Very controversially, online discussions enabled Nightliners who had graduated to input their newly garnered professional experience. Did this undermine the ‘by students’ mantra? Yet “the disagreements were all grounded in the passion everyone felt for doing the right thing.”

This culminated in becoming charity. I served on the fabulous first team of trustees “steering the Nightline ship at a very transformational time”. We developed the Good Practice Guidelines (Quality Standard), recruited an employee and designed the common ‘n’ logo and tagline (with alumni at Accenture and Wolff Olins).

Final logotype and tagline branding

James posing as a caller, picking a leaflet from the carousel in the Surrey Nightline office. 1998

I was ecstatic seeing how the internet and collective action was fulfilling my personal mission and everyone’s ambition of relieving mental distress among students.

The turn of the millennium was also a golden age for Nightlines because students had mobiles phones but were not online. For the first time they could call our helplines privately, while still valuing the (increasingly web powered) information service of Nightline. This made our services useful, and volunteers feel gratified.

The digital age also brought intriguing opportunities and challenges, in the form online tooling (rota, logbooks, training) and listening channels (email, instant messaging, video calls).

What was the effect on you?

I called another Nightline once. I needed to talk about the difficulties I was having working with committee colleagues at Surrey Nightline. That was a weird conversation for me and the call taker. But getting it off my chest it really helped! Talking it through made me appreciate others’ perspectives and gave me ways forward I couldn’t fathom before.

I was recently asked by a researcher, ‘What is the best thing you have done as a volunteer in terms of impact?’. I was proud to reply that I’d been told someone had not killed themselves because of a call with me at Surrey Nightline. Of course, that’s what Nightline exists for.

In terms of the association though, looking beyond the caller beneficiaries, what sticks out to me is all amazing things the people have done with the brilliant experience of leadership and management that National/Nightline/Association infused into them. It gave experience of running a national organisation in your early 20s! It engendered confidence and a route to exploring talents in early life.

In interviews we could say ‘Yes I have experience of doing that at Nightline…”. It’s incredible! I’ve used those powerful examples so often. Even now when writing job applications, I have to resist using skill demonstrations from Nightline and force myself to think of more recent relevant examples!

It wasn’t all pleasure. It was a lot of toil. We often missed out on worthwhile activities for the cause. There were failures and dead or loose ends as well as the successes. Lessons about dealing with people, tasks and change could be tough to learn from.
But they were immensely valuable formative experiences for me. They got me where I am today, and I draw on them daily as a senior leader and manager.

I constantly use the original Nightline training too. For example, in 1-to-1s with my reportees I’m still using those phrases and pauses to help them make progress. I also get to relax in almost every corporate training course when they get to the section on active listening!

Thank you for helping

For making all this true, I want to say a huge thank you to everyone who went before me and came after. It’s amazing to hear everyone’s stories of playing a part in and being influenced by this wonderful organisation. Well done. We can be extremely proud of the accomplishments. I am extremely so.

Alumni at the Edinburgh Farewell event

Summarising and looking forward

These and other’s “jumble of reflections that echo across the decades” show how Nightline is “a family and community that’s about giving, helping, listening, learning and developing together”.

“It’s such a fundamentally good idea. Good ideas never die, so I’m confident it will live on in some form. I’m sure students will keep coming back to the idea of a support service run by students for students. No one can quite empathise as much as another student from the same university.”

The Nightline Association is closing but some Nightlines are continuing stronger than ever.

“Whatever happens to them the idea will live on. There will still be people like me whose lives have been shaped by and will never forget what we learned at Nightline. We are better people because of that training and spending all night listening.”

“If without Nightline you now have spare time, take the spirit forward.
Find a new passion:
Be kind. Do good. Repeat”

Alumni at the Manchester Farewell event
15 June 2025