For many
people, the 1950s were a golden age. 'Let's be frank about it,' declared Harold
Macmillan in July 1957: 'most of our people have never had it so good.' Almost
immediately the Prime Minister's words became a symbol of the age, capturing
the optimism of a nation basking in the sunshine of the affluent society. Yet
like so many political quotations, they are often misunderstood. Macmillan
meant them not as an expression of complacency, but as a warning. 'What is
worrying us,' he went on, 'is "Is it too good to be true?" or perhaps I should
say "Is it too good to last?"'
It is no
wonder that we rarely remember what Macmillan really meant by his famous phrase.
Even at the time, most people preferred to enjoy the fruits of consumerism
rather than worry about the future. At the beginning of the 1950s, after all,
Britain had been threadbare, bombed-out, financially and morally exhausted. Its
major cities were still bombsites, it was almost impossible for many families
to borrow money, rationing was harsher than ever, and there was an acute
shortage of decent housing. Yet within less than ten years, everything had
changed; indeed, perhaps more than any other post-war decade, it was the 1950s
that transformed Britain's social and cultural landscape.
As the
economy began to boom, wages soared and unemployment almost disappeared,
everyday life became more comfortable. Towns and cities were reshaped by
council estates, tower blocks and shopping centres. Supermarkets transformed
families' shopping habits, while the television began to make inroads into
their leisure time. Millions of people tuned in especially for the Coronation
in 1953, with neighbours crowding into the houses of those lucky few who owned
or rented sets. Inspired by the groundbreaking Festival of Britain, the design
of the typical home, self-consciously upbeat and forward-looking, marked the
transition to what contemporaries optimistically called the Space Age. And even
the nation's roads reflected the new spirit, symbolized by the opening of Britain's
first motorway, the Preston bypass, in 1958.
It was this
extraordinary economic growth that paved the way for everything that followed.
In particular, the youth culture of the day was entirely based on the emergence
of a new teenage generation. Better housed and educated than ever before, the
generation of Cliff Richard and Adam Faith enjoyed unprecedented financial
independence. They watched television and read comics; they bought records and
danced to rock music. In their carefree hedonism and economic assertiveness,
they often shocked their elders: when 'Rock Around the Clock' reached Britain
in 1955, there was much anguished talk of 'rock and roll riots'. In truth,
though, most teenagers were fairly conservative, individualistic and materialistic
- just like their parents.
Yet as
the reaction to rock and roll suggests, there was a thick vein of anxiety
beneath the surface of the affluent society. Despite the apparent complacency
of Winston Churchill, Anthony Eden and Harold Macmillan, many politicians were
worried about Britain's economic prospects. And though historians still argue
about the extent of the famous 'Butskellite' consensus, epitomized by the
moderate figures of R. A. Butler (Conservative) and Hugh Gaitskell (Labour),
Britain's political direction remained the stuff of ferocious debate. Inside
the Labour Party, Aneurin Bevan's resignation over the imposition of
prescription charges in 1951 set the tone for a decade of bitter faction
fighting. Inside the Tory Party, meanwhile, the abortive 'Robot' scheme to set
the pound free a year later offered a hint of the emerging free-market
doctrines that would eventually culminate in Thatcherism.
All the
time, Britain's world status was changing rapidly. As one colony after another
chose independence, the Empire was slowly fading into history, while the fiasco
of the Suez Crisis in 1956 seemed to mark the end of Britain's days as a world
power. Massive Commonwealth immigration, which transformed the face of the
nation's cities, alarmed many working-class voters, while the Notting Hill
riots in 1958 exposed the ugly face of everyday racism. With violent crime
rapidly increasing, many commentators warned of rising 'juvenile delinquency'.
And overshadowing everything else was the looming threat of nuclear war, which
prompted some people to join the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. Today, CND's
marches are some of the best-remembered events of the decade. Still, the truth
is that they only attracted a minority. Most people preferred to spend their
weekends shopping for a new sofa instead.
Dominic Sandbrook is the author of 'Never Had it So Good: A History of Britain from Suez to the Beatles'.
