The Big Issue, the Little Magazine That Could, is all grown up. Today marks its 18th birthday. A publication launched on the steps of Melbourne’s Flinders Street Station on a bleak morning in June 1996 has not only survived – it has grown.

What began as a single-city venture with uncertain prospects has become a national publication, available in all mainland capital cities and many regional centres. Within the sales cycle of the latest magazine (Edition Number 460; all you need to know about the World Cup) the nine-millionth copy will be sold.

Nine million isn’t so impressive up against sales of, say, Michael Jackson’s Thriller. But in The Big Issue’s lifetime, sales of print publications have nosedived around the world. In Australia, many magazines have disappeared (RIP The Bulletin, and many more) and newspapers such as The Age and The Sydney Morning Herald (for which I was once a correspondent) have become smaller. Meanwhile, The Australian has made it to its own 50th-birthday party largely thanks to a proprietor who must be colourblind to red ink.

Yet The Big Issue has survived on the streets. It is a national publication, unlike most newspapers. It appears fortnightly, which is uncommon. And it is independent, which is increasingly remarkable. It is not sold in shops (although we do have a thriving women’s subscription program). Most importantly, its reason for being has never changed: it exists to help the people who sell it.

The economics are simple: vendors buy magazines for $3 and sell them for $6. That’s 100 per cent profit on each sale. For some, it adds up to useful income; for others, it represents pocket-money.