Unconventional, passionate and visionary... Tim Smit, the inspiration behind the Eden Project, has never played the corporate game. Here he talks about the rise of social enterprise, renewable energy and where the blames lies for the financial crisis

Despite its integration into mainstream politics, there's still something about environmentalists that suggests sandal-wearing cranks, trying to save the planet through knitting and lentils. Tim Smit, founder and chief executive of the Eden Project, seems to enjoy the non-conformist stereotype. Within a 45-minute conversation, the brains behind Cornwall's eco-tourism success story claims that banking non-executive directors "should be facing criminal charges" and that the big four accountancy firms should be "facing charges of treason".

It's extreme stuff, delivered at breakneck speed in a series of short semi-rants. But there is substance to these monologues. An outsider from the corporate game, Smit has always pursued a singular path. Not many CVs of chief executives boast experience as an archaeologist, followed by a spell as a writer of pop songs. But Smit was successful enough in the music business, penning hits for the likes of Barry Manilow and the Nolans in the 1970s and 1980s, to "retire" to Cornwall to set up a recording studio.

Having built the studio, he turned his back on music—today he says he misses the music but not the business—and returned to his career as an archaeologist, when along with a friend he discovered and restored the remains of a 12th century garden. Five years later, the garden opened to the public as the Lost Gardens of Heligan, an instant hit on the tourist trail that remains a popular destination today.

Three years after that, he launched an apparently crazy scheme to transform a deserted clay pit into "the eighth wonder of the world". Since it opened in 2000, the Eden Project has been visited by almost 10 million people. Despite this public support, the charitable trust that runs the project is reliant on grants and charitable donations. Some of this money came in a £3m loan from the council, an issue that has been a source of annoyance for some local residents, who grumble about the fact that the loan has still only partly been paid back. Smit is unrelenting that the project has given the region an economic boost, bringing jobs and extra tourist money into the area. And he insists the loan will be repaid.

John Elkington, founder of Volans Ventures, on whose Advisory Board Smit sits, is one who thinks Eden has done a lot for the region. "The sheer scale of what he has managed to achieve and the scale of the economic multiplier effects in the region put him in a class of his own. No-one is perfect and I'm pretty sure he's left all sort of bruises along the way. But his charisma is extraordinary. I remember walking around Eden with him and having employees hug him. One visitor burst into tears as she told him how much she loved what he had done. People adore him, though there will be others with an equal and opposite reaction."

Surprisingly some of the dissenters are in the environmental community. They claim the carbon cost of the building, combined with the extra traffic caused by visitors driving to the site, outweigh its eco-credentials.  Claims Smit rejects. "Am I an eco-hypocrite or a messiah? It's a difficult question without being either unnecessarily defensive, disingenuous or sanctimonious," he says. He points out that while most visitors come by car, almost a fifth come by bike, foot or coach. "From the outset I took the view that Cornwall, a rural county with poor public transport infrastructure, was visited by people in cars. Train and air have poor numbers and once people are here they need to move around." He points out that because the average car is filled with more than three visitors it means they have less impact than if they were on a coach. "On balance the behavioural change and encouragement offered by a visit to Eden is justification in its own right in terms of the likely knock-on later."

He is tougher on the issue of Eden's carbon footprint. "It's an interesting debate, because in terms of our compost-making, green energy purchasing policy, biofuel transport system, carbon offsetting and a palette of renewables, our operations are carbon neutral. If our planning application to build a large wind turbine goes ahead we will actually go significantly carbon negative within three years."

At which point it seems pertinent to ask about his plans for the wind turbine at Eden. Local residents seem to have taken against the idea and have protested about it. He dismisses objections as being narrow-minded and short-sighted. The planning decision has been delayed until later this month to allow objections and protests to be heard.

"What the objections boil down to is the perception of aesthetics [of the turbine] and the alleged downward impact on house prices," he says. "People won't admit this is what matters to them. They talk a lot of rubbish about noise or efficiency. They make spurious claims, when what really matters is how it looks and how it affects the price of their house. All the stuff about health or flicker or noise is not solid. There is no solid evidence to makes those claims stack up." Matthew Luke, a local councillor, doesn't agree. He  told the BBC after a fractious planning meeting last October, that it's the size that has upset residents: "For a small, rural community like this to have something over 400ft stuck right in the middle of it, whether it's green energy or not, is far too much."

In some ways, Smit has more pressing concerns, relating to the financial difficulties facing charities this year. An already tough environment has been made worse by last year's banking collapse and the effect for the rest of the economy. "Banks are not giving out cash to businesses that need the working capital. Anyone who needs money now is fucked," he says bluntly. "We're back to a situation like the 1920s where cash is totally king. And that isn't good for a charity. The sponsors who provide cash for us are all going back into their shells. I always think of the Woody Allen line that 'God's idea of a joke is watching humans make plans for the future'."

Smit's frustration is doubled because he called the financial crash before many others. "I wrote in the first draft of this year's annual report something about the pyramid salesmen in the City. In the end it was removed, because it would have upset the City. Any fool could see it coming. Where you have a bunch of people using the language of growth, but where the only thing that's growing is house prices, it's time to worry. When the history of these events is told, it will be clear it was caused by old men concerned about their virility, watching young men take risks. The NEDs of the major banks should face criminal charges rather than the gentle approbation that has been doled out. We think about these as victimless crimes when in truth anyone dependent on a pension is getting screwed. It's a joke."

What is less of a joke is the impact a recession might have on the rise of  so-called social businesses. It's an area close to Smit's heart. As Elkington explains, Smit was a "social entrepreneur" before the term was being used. For his part, Smit claims the rise of businesses, in which the pressure for growth, profit and maximising shareholder returns are not of paramount importance, as "the most exciting development in the corporate world for the last 300 years".

He admits that the concept is a fashionable one, but says some of the thinking has got confused. "The problem is different things have got muddled. The first is the self-perception of people who are not comfortable with the idea of short-term profits and don't want to work for a profit-making business. These people are not entrepreneurs, and they tend to be drawn to social businesses. The second are social enterprises that the government is very keen to promote. And the third are social entrepreneurs."

Smit's problem is that while the government's promotion of the idea of social enterprise plays well to the idea that "anyone with half a brain these days aspires to be enterprising", restricting the definition to not-for-profit organisations ignores the value that can be added by social entrepreneurs. "The social entrepreneur is a character, with certain traits, not least in the approach to risk and opportunity. They are not the same as people who are happy just to work for a social enterprise," he says. 

The danger in the government's approach, says Smit, is that it risks narrowing the focus on the not-for-profit at the expense of the requirements of the full range of stakeholders in a business. "In a PLC, directors are required by law to maximise the return on equity. Doing anything that reduces that return is illegal. So directors can only do corporate social responsibility if it adds to the bottom line, through improving reputation or appealing to customers. When a PLC boss does something that's socially minded it can't be from their soul. Thus, when Sir Stuart Rose launched Plan A at Marks & Spencer, it was to steal a march on competitors and create a differentiation for his firm and its products. I happen to know that he also believes those things, but it's seen through the profit motive."

Part of the problem, he adds, is that people think of social business as the opposite of profit-making. "It's not accurate to think of social enterprise as the antidote to the PLC. There are good and bad PLCs, but all of them are set up to maximise profit and growth. A sustainable business takes account of its long-term viability in terms of the actual or true costs of doing business, including the supposedly free costs of using environmental resources."

The solution sounds deceptively easy when Smit proposes it. In truth, it would require a major shift in our entire economic system. He says we need new models of business, allowing for wider ownership. Smit returns to renewable energy and cites the example of a small energy company, producing energy from small-scale renewable sources and owned by the local population. In combination with one of the major energy firms, they could distribute that energy and share the profit among the owners.

This fits with the wider Smit vision for renewable energy. Were he prime minister, he says he would launch the "most incredible building programme for renewable energy". He is full of praise for future  US president Barack Obama, whose energy plan made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. Most striking is its commitment to an 80 per cent reduction in CO2 emissions by 2050. And that's without allowing for the carbon offset that the UK government included. "It's absurd, we've got an exit strategy for our future survival," he says.

Smit is clearly an unconventional businessman. He spends little time in meetings, instead spending his time "writing, thinking, and talking". He admits that thanks to a good management team, he can focus on the aspects of the CEO's job that he's best at. These include "connecting people" and "having the time to think and be strategic".

He also enjoys creating a story for his organisation—what he calls "the narrative". It's almost the talk of a politician. So, with a renewable energy plan in place, does he harbour political ambitions? He sounds horrified at the thought. "No, I am not a politician. I lose the will to live around politicians. They are mostly clever but it's tragic to see ideals getting worn down. They focus on the art of the possible. There is a lack of statesmanship. By allowing themselves to get drawn by the media they lose that essential element of having a clear vision. That is what statesmanship is all about. There is an important role for government in creating a narrative people believe in. We need a vision that people can have faith in for the future. There is no vision at the moment. Without it, we are staring bleakly at nothing." 

Tim Smit is featured in Inspire: Courageous People of our Time, by Oliver Chittenden from The London Speaker Bureau. www.theinspirebook.com.