'My teenage rebellion came in lashing out at my dad's wealth' face face

Littlejohn is an entrepreneur, the very clever business brain behind the hugely successful Scottish Business Awards forum. And it wasn't so long ago the 26-year-old Edinburgh sandwich shop owner was breaking bread with one-time leader of the capitalist world, Bill Clinton.

But had Che met the economics graduate, he would have found a simpatico soul. Both had been born with silver spoons in mouths, and then set off on a mission to change the world for the better.

Littlejohn's Rose Street food outlet, the Social Bite, is run on charity lines whereby the investor (Littlejohn) takes a salary capped at seven times the wage of the lowest paid employee. Even if the boss opens 100 such outlets (which he plans to; another in Edinburgh, two in Glasgow and one in Aberdeen, then into England) his earnings will be capped at £80,000. And Guevara would also have loved to hear Littlejohn's deriding of today's young profiteers, the likes of The Apprentice hopefuls prepared to sacrifice their first-born in order to make a buck.

But why did this young man from Blair Drummond, with a millionaire dad (Simon Littlejohn runs seven restaurants across Scotland) turn to cooking up schemes to benefit society (one in four of his staff has been homeless) and indeed want to cosy up to world leaders along the way?

"When I left university at 21, I decided I wanted to be an entrepreneur," says Littlejohn, who attended his local secondary school. "So I decided to set up an events business. I was single at the time so I came up with the idea for a catwalk fashion show for the Edinburgh Festival."

He adds, grinning: "This meant I got to hire 10 really hot models and have pics taken of me and the girls, all wearing bikinis, sitting in an Aston Martin. And it was really the best job I could have created for myself."

Littlejohn made a few grand in the process, then moved on to setting up a Christmas fair in Glasgow's Royal Concert Hall, which worked well, and then created the Ski and Snowboard Show at the SECC. Inexperience, however, saw him take a bad fall, losing £20,000. "I was up to my eyeballs, phoning round bankruptcy hotlines, the lot," he recalls with a grimace. "But I survived, and learned from the experience – and the second year made around £50,000.

"Meantime, I came up with the Scottish Business Awards ceremony, which I reckoned Scotland needed, a forum to bring the business community together, with the profit going to charity."

The likes of Duncan Bannatyne, Tom Hunter and Tom Farmer agreed to appear at Edinburgh's EICC and the event was a sell-out. But while Littlejohn now knew he could create events that would generate huge sums, he didn't want his life to be about material gain.

"I had always been interested in becoming a development economist, with the idea of working overseas, then one day I read a book by Professor Muhammad Yunus and, quite simply, the book changed my life."

Yunus is a Bangladeshi banker and Nobel Peace Prize winner who developed the concept of micro-lending, whereby loans are given to the poor with a business idea (mostly women; they're more likely to use the money to improve family life) and the money paid back is recycled. Yunus went on to lend more than $1 billion a year to small community businesses.

"I was already politicised, I guess," says Littlejohn. "My teenage rebellion came in the form of lashing out at my dad's wealth, the big house in Blair Drummond, the flash cars and all of that, although looking back, it was such a shame to have a go at him because all he wanted to do was look after his family."

Littlejohn tracked down Yunus in Bangladesh in 2011 and brought the social guru to Scotland to speak to the business community. Professor Yunus's philosophy made a big impact.

"My dad had always taught me you can do anything you want to, and so I sold the Ski Show event for £40,000 and my flat in Stockbridge and we poured the money into the Social Bite to get us off the ground."

The "we" he refers to is Littlejohn and his girlfriend Alice. He and Alice knew nothing about running a sandwich shop. And the stress saw the couple split for a period.

"The 6am starts didn't help," he says, with a wry smile. "We were narky. But it's good now. We've got a system in place and we're doing really well financially."

With profits going to three charities in Scotland and overseas, Littlejohn hopes to see his initial investment returned in five years.

Meantime, his contacts book has swelled, with the likes of Hunter encouraging him along the way. But how he did manage to bring Clinton to this year's Scottish Business Awards?

"I contacted Clinton's foundation charity last year via the website, and amazingly they agreed to offer a prize of spending a day with Clinton in New York – if I could achieve a bid of £60,000, to be split with the charity. It was nerve-wracking on the night trying to raise the money, but thanks to Leo Koot of the Taqa oil company in Aberdeen, who bid up on himself, we were successful.

"This year I spoke to the Clinton Foundation about him coming over to speak and they agreed, if I could promise £210,000 to the charity."

Littlejohn worked a deal to pay by instalments of £50,000, asking businessmen such as Hunter to take a table – and pay up front. He and other luminaries thrust benevolent hands deep into pockets. With Clinton on the bill, Littlejohn pulled off what was billed as the biggest banquet dinner in the UK in more than 400 years.

"Bill Clinton was amazing. He spoke about Scottish independence, which got awesome coverage, and he seemed incredibly knowledgeable on so many world subjects."

Littlejohn's revolution won't stop with his Social Bite. He's on a drive to alter the thinking of business students and leaders to change a world in which a billion people live on less than a dollar a day.

Could altruism come back into vogue? "I hope so," he says, his voice animated to the point Guevara's black beret is almost visible. "Traditional business methods aren't bad, but it's become too much about greed, whereby you have companies such as Primark paying workers in Bangladesh a pittance.

"We're also trying to make the Government rethink as well, get local authorities to help us with rates. But I do know we can't leave it up to governments or charities to solve our problems. We need another economic model."

Littljohn's dad wasn't enthusiastic about the Social Bite. He believed his son should go down the standard business route. "We've had lots of debates. But this year he bought £10,000 worth of tickets for the business awards dinner, and he's agreed to take on homeless people in his restaurant. I'm slowly convincing him of the right way."

Littlejohn will most likely make his target of 100 Social Bites. And more. He's already talking about a social business wine shop, The Drinking Well, "turning wine into water, the profits going to African clean water projects, and to Alcoholics Anonymous".

"It will be run like the sandwich shop – a good quality, competitive product which people will buy because it's also helping others."

He certainly won't pursue his own Aston Martin, a yacht, nor a home in The Grange. He and Alice are happy in their modest flat in Leith. "I want a life that's meaningful," he says.

But does changing the world allow time to relax? "Not really," he says, grinning. "But we're going on holiday in September, our first for a few years." Ibiza? Ayia Napa? "No, Malawi. We can chill for a week and look at some local social projects."

Silly question. Anyone with any sense would realise this charismatic young man with a conscience and clever hybrid business idea isn't into hedonism. Littljohn points out his colourful, caring shop is in fact sandwiched between two multinationals, Pret A Manger and Subway. He's into beating them. Guevara would love that.

"And we are," he says, with a triumphant smile. "And it's because we're doing the right thing."

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