Skilled self-publicist Michael Gwilliam has transformed the "close to crusty" Civic Trust into an urban campaigner with influence. He wants to make the everyday better – and this week, the trust's awards aim to do just that.
"I think we could do with talking less about the grand architectural names in this country. I want to make what people see every day better – a few flash schemes aren't going to do that," says Michael Gwilliam, the Civic Trust's garrulous director.

The trust – which announces its annual design awards today – is a small charity, but it is making a big name for itself as a champion of good urban design. Nowadays, its director is as likely to be heard airing his views on Radio 4's Today programme as at the Royal Town Planning Institute.

The Oxford-educated, 51-year-old spent 30 years working for planning departments before becoming director of the trust in 1996. And since his appointment, the organisation has undergone a transformation. As one urban regeneration consultant puts it, it was not exactly crusty, but not far off. Another describes it as cerebral. Now, thanks largely to Gwilliam's media-friendly approach, its research and campaigns carry far more weight than such a small organisation could usually hope for.

Gwilliam admits to deliberately pushing the trust into the public eye: "We're not interested in just talking to the aficionados in little professional cliques. To influence opinion, you have to be listened to. People listen if they think you've got something worthwhile to say, and if they know and respect you." Getting people to listen to his patter is clearly not something the ex-Bedfordshire county planner has a problem with. In the past month, the Civic Trust, which has only 30 full-time paid staff, had 39 mentions in the broadsheets and trade press.

The trust is a hybrid – part research and consultancy group, part campaigning organisation. It has 330 000 members who belong to 900 civic societies and range from architects and planners to retired army generals campaigning to save their village rectory. It aims to be the urban equivalent of the Council for the Protection of Rural England, yet it has nowhere near the CPRE's resources. Its offices in Carlton House Terrace just off the Mall are shabby and creaking, with book stacked from floor to ceiling.

None of this has hindered Gwilliam, who, according to his peers, has always been a good self-publicist. He thinks the trust should take the credit for raising public awareness of problems in our cities and towns, pointing out that the phrase most associated with Lord Rogers' urban taskforce – "urban renaissance" – was the product of a Civic Trust brainstorming session. It appeared in the trust's 1997 manifesto, which also called for an urban white paper.

"I don't know who else was promoting the idea of capturing people's imagination by talking about an urban renaissance two years ago," crows Gwilliam. "We were trying to find a phrase, something that resonated – and I think we've done that because it's now in common parlance." Influencing the content of the urban white paper is high on the director's agenda. He aims to get through to politicians and senior civil servants in "drip feed ways", rather than allying himself closely with one politician. He has not, he says, been bending John Prescott's ear, although he has "met Lord Rogers on occasion".

I want to make what people see every day better. A few flash schemes won’t do that

Whatever his methods, the message is getting through. The urban taskforce's interim report took up many of the trust's ideas on encouraging brownfield schemes, including harmonising VAT on new build and conversion, financial incentives and a greenfield tax.

And in a report for the House Builders' Federation, the trust warned that the government's brownfield target would not be met without incentives for housebuilders to develop contaminated land. The comeback for this has been criticism that he is now too closely allied to the HBF.

One idea Gwilliam does not want to encourage is that big-name architects are the key to urban regeneration. "I'm rather suspicious of the idea that one visionary should shape a scheme. We could do with spreading commissions more widely." Questioned about the role that planners play in urban regeneration, Gwilliam is defensive. "Sometimes planning is a problem, but half the time, planning authorities are working their guts out to help the process happen," he says. "I don't think we should put all the burden of improvement on the planning system and expect it to deliver," he adds, warning that the government should be wary of implementing 1970s-style "swingeing changes" to the planning system.

Back on safer territory, Gwilliam is optimistic that the time is right for urban regeneration to take off: "I believe the government is serious about it. It's a huge challenge, but there is genuine intent and that's a big step forward.

"At times, I think the trust must have felt it was crying in the wilderness about urban problems, but in the past few years, our message is increasingly being listened to.

Personal effects

What is your favourite building? My favourite buildings of this century are probably bridges. The Severn and Firth of Forth bridges show the best of what modern technology can do. My favourite older building is Lincoln Cathedral. With that spire on top, I wonder if it would have got planning permission today. How do you spend your spare time? I like bonsai – I live in the city and don’t have much of a garden, so it’s a way of creating my own bit of green space. Where do you live? In Bow, east London. It’s a brownfield site – I like living in the city. What is the most recent book you’ve read? The English by Jeremy Paxman. Why did you go into planning? After my history degree, I did a postgraduate course in planning because I was interested in my surroundings. I was pretty appalled at what was happening in the 1960s and I just thought, what are we doing? Sometimes I think that now.