They were a motley crew: the lanky girl with an eyebrow ring and a cigarette; the quiet, glancing-eyed Mancunian with his hat pulled low; the brainy ginger one with a trace of baby fat still in his cheeks. There were seven others, young people too, all from different corners of England.

This group accompanied us to a conference in Sweden this month which set out to do nothing less than ‘Rework the World', bringing together a global community of 1000 leading funders, government ministers, NGOs and geeks aiming to tackle issues relating to youth, entrepreneurship and sustainability. These 10 young people came along with the promise of being involved in a global dialogue on the issues.

What happened over the five days could provide some useful lessons for the Big Society.

The coalition government wants to change the way we think about our society and our role in it. It has called for a cultural shift that will result in citizens taking on more responsibility and Government getting out of the way, making more space for greater community engagement.

And yet, the vast majority of the time, despite our lofty values, work on the ground doesn't measure up. As an example, while the conference sought to "rework" our institutions and mindsets to empower individuals and improve outcomes, at the start of the week things didn't look so promising. The grey-haired experts ploughed through their Powerpoints while the audience took refuge in their blackberries. Young people - despite being talked about as the key decision makers of the future - were noticeably absent from plenaries and panels: objects, not subjects in the process of reworking the world.

It's a familiar trap: despite the best intentions to meaningfully involve people, how can we trust them not to screw it up? Safer to keep to how we've always done things. It's a challenge the new Government will face in trying to build the Big Society.

By Saturday the young people had lost patience. They stormed the stage in the plenary with a protest message, written in big green letters on banners they slowly and silently unfurled: "Can You Hear Us?" They followed this with an invitation to join them outside for discussion about how to improve things for the next time around. The organizers had to take notice.

And perhaps because we adults were outside of our day-to-day routines, or because of all the inspiring rhetoric, we changed our way of doing things too: we asked questions, but largely stayed out of discussions. Our role became that of facilitators and mentors, but the real power and authority was with the teenagers.

Now that we've returned, the group emails are flying: "The delegates have been a wonder to spend time with"; "She is buzzing and I can't shut her up"; "This has changed his life massively"; "His confidence has taken a huge leap and he is starting a new project in our organisation." Every young person in the group left feeling powerful - but more importantly, feeling responsible for making change: they realised, perhaps for the first time, that if things were going to be different, they had to take responsibility for seeing through that vision.

This is a small example, but it illustrates a wider problem of institutions that mean well but struggle to give up control. The Big Society aims to devolve responsibility to citizens. This mass mobilization is a risky endeavour, but risks will be a core part of its success. It will only work if it puts regular people - from parents to ex-offenders - in positions of responsibility and decision-making. Empowering citizens is not just about consultations, or talking from a podium and inviting comments on ideas that are already fully formed. It means removing constraints and red tape, and opening the process of decision-making to the people who will be affected by decisions.

What we learnt in Sweden is that the process is as valuable as the outcome in the Big Society vision: if we want to cultivate active citizens, we have to let them lead.

August 2010.