17th March 2026
Walk down any High Street in the Highlands today and you'll see the same story written in shuttered windows and empty doorways. Another charity shop closed. Another gap where a lifeline used to be. Another reminder that the cost‑of‑living crisis isn't just squeezing households — it's quietly strangling the very charities that hold our communities together.
And nowhere is this more painfully clear than in the story of Highland Hospice.
For decades, Highland Hospice has been a beacon of compassion, providing specialist end‑of‑life care not just for Inverness, but for people from Caithness, Sutherland, Ross‑shire, Skye, Moray, and every scattered corner of the Highlands. It is a service that families rely on at the hardest moments of their lives — and it is a service that must raise £8,500 every single day simply to keep its doors open.
That money doesn’t fall from the sky. It comes from fundraising, donations, and crucially, from the network of Highland Hospice shops that dot our towns and villages.
So when one of those shops closes, it isn’t just a retail loss.
It’s a blow to the entire region.
A Crisis Hiding in Plain Sight
The closure of charity shops isn’t unique to Caithness — it’s happening everywhere. Across the UK, donations have fallen by more than £1 billion, volunteer numbers have dropped, and running costs have soared. Charity shops, once bustling hubs of community life, are now fighting to survive.
Why?
Because the same people who used to donate, volunteer, and shop there are now struggling to heat their homes, fill their oil tanks, or put food on the table. When families are choosing between warmth and dinner, charity donations are the first thing to go.
And yet — demand for charity services has never been higher.
Food banks are overwhelmed. Homelessness charities are stretched thin. Hospices are facing rising medical costs, staff shortages, and increased need. It is a perfect storm, and it is hitting rural areas hardest.
The Highland Reality: When a Shop Closes, a Community Loses
In places like Wick and Thurso, charity shops aren’t just shops. They are:
affordable clothing and household goods for families on tight budgets
volunteering opportunities for older residents
social hubs for people who might otherwise be isolated
vital income streams for charities that serve the entire region
So when the Cancer Research UK shop in Wick closed recently, it wasn’t just a business decision. It was another crack in the foundation of a community already under pressure.
What happened to the Wick Cancer Research shop?
The Wick branch on Bridge Street was officially announced for closure as part of a nationwide restructuring.
Cancer Research UK said many of its shops had become financially unsustainable because of:
rising operating costs
reduced donations
fewer volunteers
lower footfall on high streets
competition from online resale platforms
The Wick shop is one of 88 stores closing by May 2026, with up to 100 more expected to shut by 2027.
And if a Highland Hospice shop were ever forced to close, the consequences would ripple far beyond the High Street. Every lost pound is a pound that can’t go toward palliative care, home visits, bereavement support, or the compassionate hands that guide families through their darkest days.
A Warning We Can’t Ignore
Charities are often the first to step in when people fall through the cracks — but they are now falling through cracks of their own. The cost‑of‑living crisis has exposed a brutal truth:
When ordinary people struggle, charities struggle too.
And when charities struggle, entire communities suffer.
Highland Hospice is strong, resilient, and deeply rooted in the Highlands — but even the strongest tree can be weakened if the soil around it erodes.
The Highlands Has Always Looked After Its Own
There is something unique about the Highlands: a sense of responsibility, of neighbourliness, of stepping up when times are hard. People here know what it means to live far from services, far from hospitals, far from the safety nets that urban areas take for granted.
Highland Hospice embodies that spirit.
Its shops embody that spirit.
And the communities that support them embody that spirit.
But spirit alone cannot pay the bills.
If we want Highland Hospice — and the many other charities that quietly hold our communities together — to survive the next decade, we cannot ignore the warning signs on our High Streets.
Empty shops are not just empty shops.
They are the early symptoms of a deeper illness.
And if we don’t act, the cost will be measured not in pounds, but in lost care, lost support, and lost dignity for the people who need it most.