HL Deb 13 May 1964 vol 258 cc237-368

2.59 p.m.

BARONESS BURTON OF COVENTRY

rose to call attention to the problem of leisure; and to move for Papers. The noble Baroness said: My Lords, in rising to move the Motion that stands in my name on the Order Paper, I hope the House will condone some slight overlapping with another debate. I will do my best not to be guilty of tedious repetition, and I am comforted by the tolerance that is shown to all speakers in this House. When I saw the words of the Motion in the name of the noble Viscount, Lord Hanworth, for April 8 last, I felt anxiety and regret: anxiety because I feared that his Motion might well cover the theme that I wished to take to-day, and what I have wished to take for many months, and regret that an official duty prevented to-day's Motion from being taken on that day in April instead of to-day. But since then, having read, having enjoyed, and having learned a great deal from that important debate of April 8, which was on a Motion To call attention to the need for an increase of automation in British industry and commerce, and for effective planning to meet the inevitable changes which it will cause in our society, I now hope that it may prove to have been a background or a raising of the curtain for what I propose to say to-day.

I want to talk about the problem of leisure—the great intimidating fact of expanding leisure, as Kenneth Tynan described it. In 1957, I attended a conference in Geneva to discuss the problem of automation and its many effects on our society. The numbers of those attending were relatively small—I should think we numbered about 100; but the cross-section and experience were interesting. Representatives came from most European countries, and from the United States of America, and, of course, from the International Labour Organisation in Geneva. There were social workers, engineers, psychologists, writers, and people skilled in the management of fully automated factories and in the training and retraining problem of those who worked in them. I was invited because of a two-fold interest: first, because of my interest in leisure and recreation, and secondly because at that time in my constituency of Coventry, South, workers and management were confronting each other over this problem of installing automatic machinery in the car factories. As the House will realise, many of the hopes and fears were brought home to me very vividly indeed.

I came hack from Geneva with one thought firmly entrenched in my mind, which I thought was a basic fundamental one. It was that the problem of leisure would be one of the great prolems of the 1960s. It seemed to me then, and it seems equally true to-day, that three points arise immediately. First, this problem of automation is bound up inextricably with the problem of leisure; secondly, automation must come at a time of full employment if it is to be acceptable. In the past, and still to-day, the words "automation" and "unemployment" are linked together, and I need not tell the House that even in our affluent society of to-day there are many who have known the soul-destroying effect of unemployment. And it applies not only to those living in the past. Many people must have seen the B.B.C. programme, To-night, when it visited Northern Ireland in February this year, and when the reporters there talked to some of the would-be workers who had been out of work for a long time. I think that any of us who saw that programme must have realised the hopelessness and resentment of the people involved—a feeling made all the stronger because of the lack of sensationalism with which the problem was dealt. What I felt was even worse was that we saw on the faces of some of these people the dying of effort and the consequent inability to work again. I am quite sure that I need tell nobody in this House that anyone who has had experience of it, and who has come across people who have had long periods of unemployment, will know that a man can be out of work so long that, quite honestly, it is beyond him to start again; it is beyond him to make the effort. In fact, these people were suffering from enforced leisure.

If people fear that automation will bring unemployment, then they will not have automation, and, as my noble friend Lord Williamson said in this House recently, if people think, rightly or wrongly, that they personally are going to be worse off as a result of technological change, it will be idle and futile to expect their willing co-operation and acceptance. Perhaps before I continue I shoud express the deep regret of my noble friend Lord Williamson that an official engagement prevents him from being here this afternoon.

The third fundamental point that I thought arose seven years ago, and still arises today—and I say this with all humility—is that each one of us will have to look at this problem of leisure with a completey changed outlook. Con- ventional thinking will have to go. May I startle our critics by saying: Where better place than your Lordships' House for this to happen? I believe that this House is the place where new ideas, or different ideas, get a fair hearing; and not only a fair hearing, but, if they are good enough, acceptance. I am convinced that many critics of this Chamber would have quite a different attitude if they were fortunate enough to sit here. In my short membership I have found a willingness to consider a different approach; and, far from being a morgue or a mausoleum, I think this is a forum which permits many subjects to be discussed that would not see the light of day in another place, simply because of pressure of business.

So, my Lords, what can we do with this conception that automation and unemployment are linked together? Obviously, we all know that this conception can be changed only by a positive approach. After all, machines always have made possible a gradual reduction of working hours, along with better wages and higher living standards, as a result of greater production. I should like to ask whether there is any reason why this should not be so in future. It is not for me to stress the obvious, but more and more automated machinery is on the way. Whether this be machinery where the entire process is electronic, as defined by my noble friend Lord Hobson in a recent debate, or whether this machinery be partially automated, as mentioned by my noble friend Lord Taylor (I thought I would clear myself with both points of view) it will mean, in my opinion, quite simply, shorter working hours or unemployment.

I intend to venture into very deep waters and say that it seems to me that the benefits the nation should receive from all this—because I refuse to accept the unemployment—should be in this order of priority: shorter hours, lower prices, longer holidays and increased wages and salaries, discussed and negotiated through the appropriate machinery in each industry. We all remember that the 47-hour week was introduced in 1919. It stayed with us for 28 years before it was reduced to 44 hours in 1947. Increased productivity followed, and output per person increased by over 12 per cent. in the first year and by 28 per cent. in the second. I remember, going back only to 1958, reading in the Press that influential New York labour leaders had started a behind-the-scenes drive to reduce the present 8-hour working day to 6; and I remember reading that outsiders laughed. But it was such a group that met some 76 years ago with the ambition of cutting down the 10 or 12-hour day to an 8-hour day. Outsiders laughed then. But the 12-hour day became Federal law. I have here a cutting from the Daily Herald of April 15 of this year, aid the heading is "Engineers Face up to Automation". Speaking of the then forthcoming conference of the Amalgamated Engineering Union, under a sub-heading of "35 hours" there is this sentence: There are a spate of resolutions calling for a 35-hour week as the union's new objective—and for a 40-hour week this year. Looking at The Times of Monday, May 11, following on the Conference, I read that it is anticipated that the engineering employers will be offering the workers a "package deal" which will include Reduction of the working week from 42 to 40 hours before the end of next year … I suggest that it is impossible for anybody, however non-technical, to hear talks, read papers or to see on television the new machines and processes of to-day, or to have the privilege, as we do, of hearing the noble Lord, Lord Bowden, explaining something of these mysteries and of those projected for to-morrow, without realising the completely new world of the operator. Obviously, this is a greater change for you and me than for the young men and women who are growing up and training with these ideas. I do not propose to-day to deal with this vast and complex field of human approach to automation, but the training of the young workers, the re-training of the next in age and the problem of those who just cannot face the change offer, I believe, a challenge to our trade unions which is greater and more far reaching than that offered to any other section of the community to-day.

I heard vivid stories in Geneva of workers who just could not stand the loneliness of working alongside these up-to-date machines instead of with their workmates. I remember reading not long ago in the papers, as, I am sure, your Lordships will, of the loneliness of a man driving one of these huge diesel engines as it thundered along the railway tracks; and it seemed to me that this loneliness is only one of the problems arising from more automated machines.

I should like to look at the social consequences, accepting what seems to me to be a basic condition for real progress, that conventional thinking will have to go. So, what leisure are we considering—the leisure of to-day or the leisure of to-morrow? We have ruled out, I am sure, by common consent, the leisure of unemployment. By the turn of the century shall we have a four-day working week with us? Mr. Frank Cousins, in February, wrote that national planning and strong trade unions could ensure that industrial progress brought greater leisure and higher living standards, and not merely higher profits and unemployment. On the agenda for the annual conference, in June, of the National Union of General and Municipal Workers are motions dealing with the part to be played by a shorter working week resulting from the spread of automation. So, whether it be a four-day working week or one of longer duration, I think there is no doubt that it will be a shorter working week that we can look forward to in the future.

Looking at this in your Lordships' House with minds of to-morrow, what is to be the social consequence of the leisure thus offered? Points such as shift work, week-ends, family life, sports fans, a twenty-four hour working week, all come to mind. Which would people prefer if they had a choice—a shorter day throughout the year; a longer day and a shorter week; or a longer day, a longer week and four months off? Developments such as these are not impossible; they are merely different; and it seems to me that we have to cease saying: "This is impossible". I do not think it is impossible if our minds will make a fresh approach. I would suggest that both sides of industry will have to work out ideas like these and Government will have to be a willing partner. But I believe very definitely that it would be no use doing this, that you and I and everyone else and both sides of industry and the Government, would be just wasting our time, if we had more leisure and people took another job or worked more overtime as a result.

So I come to the actual words of my Motion—I am sure to the relief of the House—the problem of leisure; the great intimidating fact of expanding leisure. How many are ready to use it to-day? How many have the opportunity? How many have the facilities? What can we do to ensure that people do have a free choice between genuine alternatives in deciding how to use their leisure and in developing their interests and tastes? Would your Lordships think it was true that the only body with the financial resources needed to break the grip of the financial tycoons on entertainment and communication is the State? Is it correct that artists are made and tastes created by skilled salesmen? How far is it true to say that local and group interests, that spontaneity in the use of leisure, have no chance in present circumstances?

If we take the Arts and leisure, I remember speaking to a conference on the problems of local Government in 1960 on this aspect and talking of the priorities of patronage. At that time, in 1960, the Government grant to the Arts Council worked out at little more than 7d. per head of the population, and although it had been increased to that, I would remind the House that it was one of the lowest in Europe. Certainly four years ago the biggest scope seemed to be with local authorities in so far as the Arts were concerned. But only last month, I think the House will remember, we had the announcement of an imaginative venture by the Institute of Directors, who have now established an Arts Advisory Council for the benefit not only of themselves and their employees but of the community as a whole.

I do not wish to trespass further on this particular aspect, because many other speakers are to follow me, including my noble friend Lord Willis, who know much more about it than I do; but I should like to pay a tribute to Coventry. Our Belgrade Theatre was the first theatre ever to be built in this country out of public funds, and the feeling in Coventry in 1960 was that the Belgrade was very much a social centre, appealing particularly to young people. I remember its being said that this theatre had the youngest audience in the country. I am sure we shall all agree that the provision of art galleries, museums, the maintaining of first-class orchestras and the building of theatres must be included in any concept of leisure, as must the provision of youth hostels and the development of facilities for physical recreation and sport.

The House knows my views here and all I want to add is an expression of deep gratitude and appreciation to the L.C.C. for the wonderful gesture they have made in giving the nation the Crystal Palace National Recreation Centre. This, my Lords, is not only a wonderful gesture: to date it has cost the L.C.C. some £2¾-million. The Central Council of Physical Recreation is running this centre for the L.C.C., and we have been meeting since the summer of 1961 in order to see what has to be done. In spite of many difficulties, the opening is to be in July; indeed, I should have been there now if I had not been fortunate enough to be detained in your Lordships' House. I hope that everyone who can will go and see this centre. It should make a major contribution to the leisure and recreation of many people of all ages.

My Lords, I want to come to another aspect, to the social consequences of leisure to which I made reference earlier. This is a problem of to-morrow to be dealt with to-day. There is no need for me to tell people much better informed than myself that automatic machinery is expensive: to make it pay, it must be used round the clock. Is it possible to have bigger wage packets, more production and shorter hours? Yes, my Lords: but only if shift work is accepted to keep the machines going. This would affect the private lives of all workers of all grades. Will people be prepared to accept it? What will the reaction be when the usual weekend of leisure is sometimes exchanged for days off in the middle of the week? What effect will this have on family life—with father having his days off when the children are at school? What will sports fans say when Saturday shifts stop them going to events which are at present part of their lives? Obviously conventional ideas will have to go. In connection with this, I wonder whether I might just mention an article in the Daily Herald, which had the heading "Working round the clock" and was dated November 12 last. In this article they said: Employers and trade unions have not come to grips with these problems yet. The T.U.C. have no official policy on three-shift workings. The Federation of British Industry have called for more shift working to make Britain more competitive with other countries. The Ministry of Labour said yesterday: 'We have no figures on this subject later than a 1954 survey'.… All this emphasises what the Industrial Welfare Society discovered in a shift-work survey earlier this year:"— that was 1963— workers will accept three shifts if they are first convinced it is economically necessary and if approached in a reasonable way. When we get down to a 24-hour week—and I would hasten to say we are looking at the future to-day—need this mean a 6-hour working day, with three days off during the week right through the year? It need not. But it will tax the imagination and the wisdom of both sides of industry. What would be wrong with a 7-hour working day for five days a week but only eight months a year, leaving the workers with four clear months of leisure with pay? When I first aired this thought in 1958 I suggested that people might care to use that sort of leisure to take a trip on one of the gigantic liners then being built for the America-Europe Travel Project, which aimed at fares ordinary people could afford. I remember saying then that at least that would give us the opportunity to get to know each other better on both sides of the Atlantic, or anywhere else for that matter, and I thought it would be a better investment for the future than any bomb—and I hasten to say I am not a unilateralist.

And if some people say this is crazy thinking, at least I am in good company, because Mr. Ray Gunter as recently as June 26 last said that automation will eventually mean a 25-hour week and three months holiday a year. With automation and more leisure on its way, world tourism and the whole business of holidays at home and abroad becomes more important each year.

If people were given the choice, if all of us and both sides of industry were prepared to use our imagination and look ahead, how would anyone who works like to apportion his leisure time? Given shorter hours, would he choose the shorter day throughout the year, would he choose a longer day and a shorter week, or would he choose a longer day, a longer week and four months off?

With variations like this for workers within particular industries, productive equipment could be kept going right round the clock, and there is no reason why Monday and Tuesday should not prove to be equally as good a time off as week-ends. Developments like this are not impossible; they are merely different.

A successful scientific revolution such as we are talking about to-day must mean that people will have more time for the Arts and pleasures of life, and to give more voluntary service. I think one of the most fascinating and thought-provoking areas for any development of leisure must be the aspect of newspapers, of reading and of related angles, and this would have been discussed to-day by the noble Lord, Lord Thomson of Fleet, had he not, unfortunately for me and I think for your Lordships, been in Canada.

I hope it has been clear in what I have been trying to say that I am not for one minute suggesting that leisure should be organised for us, but I believe that we in Parliament have a responsibility, a responsibility of advocating the provision of a real choice of the best possible facilities for our nation to enjoy any leisure that comes their way. I think this is one of the great problems of our time. Looking at to-day's list of speakers and adding to it those who spoke on April 8, I am quite convinced that this House has a contribution to make. It seemed to me that my task in opening our discussion to-day was to try to paint a background against which so much expertise could speak—expertise, if I may say so, of considerable standing in our national life, and which I know is intending to cover most major aspects of this huge subject: the provision of facilities to enjoy leisure, the widening of all our minds to appreciate the possibilities, the adventure of welcoming this great intimidating fact of expanding leisure. This must be for us, this must be for the Britain of the future, this is, a challenge for us to-day. I beg to move for Papers.

3.25 p.m.

THE EARL OF ARRAN

My Lords, I am very glad to be taking part once more in a debate on leisure, and I think the whole House is in the noble Lady's debt. I had the honour of introducing a Motion on this subject some four year, ago, and we had quite a remarkable debate. This time there are even more speakers, and I believe that we may get even further than we did on the previous occasion. People are waking up more and more to this problem of leisure as it becomes more actual; and many I believe, like myself, are anxious. For when we discuss leisure and its uses we are, in fact, discussing human happiness. If we are not happy in our leisure when shall we be happy? It is on this aspect that I should like to speak, very briefly, this afternoon. I hope that in so doing I shall not be straying too far from the point.

I confess to deep concern about our progress in the search for happiness—and when I say "our" I refer not only to people in this country, but to those all over the world who are concerned with improving the state of man. The better off we become in material things—and that, of course, includes our increasing opportunities for leisure—the greater our discontent. Almost it seems as though in our successful pursuit of what we believe to be right and good we have lost our way. For decades, indeed for centuries, we have been trying, slowly, to redress the material injustices and to achieve that millennium when all shall be equal in opportunity, at least. We have laboured onwards in the firmly held belief that when poverty and inhumanity are removed from us we shall have found the answer to everything. And just at the moment when we seem to be nearing our goal, suddenly it seems that we may have been chasing a mirage; suddenly our conception of what is good for man is in danger of turning to dust and ashes.

For where have we got to? What is the progress report? On the credit side we have in certain places, in certain countries if you like, removed the evil things which needed to be removed. Our standards of living are high—almost unbelievably high. In Western Europe, at least, few people starve. But in these much-blessed places, while the obvious causes of distress have disappeared, is the total of human happiness any greater than it ever was? I should like to think so, but the evidence is rather disheartening. Naturally one looks first to those countries which have solved their social problems. I think particularly of the Scandinavian countries and Switzerland. These countries are the prototypes of the new civilisation, of the brave new world. They are very important. Mr. Nehru, I am told, suddenly interjected, in some Commonwealth debate or other, "What is happening in Sweden?" What indeed? As I pointed out in our last debate, the pattern there is one of divorce, illegitimacy, promiscuity and suicide. They are so happy they shoot themselves. In Denmark much the same is true. In Switzerland, too. And oh! the dullness and the unimaginativeness of those peoples! As for the United States, where so many people have so much, are things much better there?

It is clearly right that we should continue to press on in our attempt to bring material prosperity to mankind. But what lies at the end of it? My anxiety is that, having finally achieved this, having dispelled the wants and fears which have bedevilled mankind since the beginning, we may be brought up with a jerk and suddenly find ourselves in a vacuum—all dressed up, as it were, and nowhere to go. "You've never had it so good"—that silliest and most misleading of slogans—may turn out to be "You've never had it so bad".

So far, I have struck a sombre note which is out of keeping with my normally cheerful attitude to life and its blessings. Things, of course, are not as bad as all that, and I refuse to believe that man's age-long search for social justice has been in vain. Otherwise, we might as well pack up and go home. All the same, there are things that we have to face. We must surely admit that the Utopias promised to us by the politicians are chimeras, and that, whatever Party gets in next time, or at any time (and I personally do not see any great difference between them; the whole thing seems to be terribly artificial) we shall not be much better or worse off in the things that really count. We have to accept the fact that the material millennium will not be the spiritual millennium. Above all, we must face the inexorable truth that man is happy only when his mind or his body is occupied. when he is striving for something. That is why I so wholeheartedly agree with the noble Baroness that this problem of leisure is perhaps the greatest of all problems for us, and even more for our children.

In our last debate I did not suggest practical solutions—I am not a practical man. What I ventured to do was to point to the places where I thought the answers might be found. I thought of the education authorities; I thought of the Churches; I thought of the trade unions. To what extent in the four years since our last debate have they come to grips with this business? Doubtless they will tell us to-day. Last time, quite frankly, I felt that they had not given much thought to the matter. I am particularly sorry that the noble Lord, Lord Williamson, will not be here to-day. As a keen union man myself, I am sometimes worried lest in their anxiety to get immediate material benefits for their people the unions ignore the longer-term issues. I believe that unless they think ahead they will become out-dated and lose their purpose. I would say the same about the Churches who, after a long and unprofitable sleep, are beginning finally to realise that Christianity is not just dogma and dogfights.

I hope that I have not been tempted too far from the path which lies before us this afternoon. But the subject, by its very breadth, has given me the opportunity to say things which I have long wanted to say. Last year I tried to initiate a debate in your Lordships' House on happiness. I was told that there was no Government responsibility. This struck me as quite ridiculous. If Governments are not concerned with the happiness of the electorate, what are they there for? Frankly, I find the future a little frightening. I think it possible that we may discover that for centuries we have been worshipping false gods. It may be that everything will be all right on the day. As the noble Marquess, Lord Salisbury, said last time, things tend to work them- selves out in the end; and, whatever the new and ghastly Utopia which awaits us, there will always remain, thank God! the glorious vagaries and diversities of human nature, the things which make one man different from another. None the less, I think that we should be prepared, actively prepared, for more prosperity and for more leisure, lest when they come upon us we find ourselves truly perplexed.

3.36 p.m.

LORD AMULREE

My Lords, I want to make what I trust will be an extremely short intervention in this debate, and to talk about two types of people who really have had leisure thrust upon them. whether they want it or not. The first type of people to whom I shall refer are those elderly folk who retire. I was told a sad thing when I was working in the Civil Service before, during and after the war—namely, that when civil servants retired their average expectation of life was about two years because they had nothing whatever to do with themselves when they retired, and so they died simply from boredom. I think that was rather an exaggeration, but it was certainly borne out by certain facts which one saw at the time.

There comes a time, with men particularly, when the moment of retirement has a particularly bad impact upon them, because they lose their status in their family, they have a big drop in their income, and quite a number of them have nothing to do and they become extremely bored. The type of men I refer to particularly are the manual workers—the people whose real asset when they were working was their physical strength rather than their mental skill or powers. Those whom we call "white collar" workers are peculiarly of the type who do skilled work, and generally go on working when the moment for retirement should have come. They go on working partly because they want the extra money which comes in from that work; but they do it also for the companionship of the people they work with. They do not, therefore, feel lonely and bored.

I think the same does not apply with women, although one can say that they rarely retire in the sense that they are keeping house and doing housework. They have quite a lot of spare time and leisure. I think one finds among those men and women a great feeling of loneliness and isolation, particularly when their family has grown up and gone away; possibly when their spouse has died or their friends have gone away.

As I have mentioned before, that leads to all sorts of physical and mental troubles, in the sense that they decay, they degenerate physically and mentally, and that leads finally to mental or physical disease, which calls for some sort of care. One can say, quite rightly, that a certain number of people do not do that. They live rather lonely and isolated lives, but they are quite well. One can say that a certain number of people keep on working, and therefore they do not seem to decay. It is rather a question of whether they work because they are fit, or whether they are fit because they work. That is a point which I do not think can be decided. It is rather like the problem of whether it was the egg or the hen which came first. That is a point which I think will never be decided, either. I am quite sure that if we can make some good arrangements for these people when they retire into their enforced leisure, we can save a great deal of expense and trouble in the future. That would be a good example of preventive medicine.

Your Lordships may say that it is all very well for me to talk in that kind of way, so I should like to suggest something that could be done to put my ideas into practice. There is not a great deal I can suggest, but various people are now taking an interest in people being trained for retirement. I will not go into great detail, but there is a very good council in Glasgow which does a great deal of work on these lines, and similar work is being done in the United States of America. These are matters which want inquiring into. If there is this large amount of experience to be obtained, we need somebody to go into the matter to try to analyse it and see whether or not it is going to be of value.

The other thing which can be of great value is to find some kind of simple task for these people to do. There is a body called Employment for the Elderly, which has set up workshops for the elderly in various parts of the country. People can come together there for half a day at a time and do what are called simple repetitive tasks, for which they get a certain amount of money. These tasks have to be set them by consultation with local shops and trades people to find out what kind of work they require. There is no point in getting people to sit down to do work which nobody can sell. That seems to me a good project, and there have been one or two workshops, notably in the borough of Finsbury, where there has been a successful shop, which have done a great deal of good for people who otherwise would have had to come in for some kind of care and attention. It is not easy for people to find simple, modified jobs to do when they retire. Generally, the most exciting job they can get is to become a public lavatory attendant, and one cannot call that a very inspiring job, although it is a very valuable one. I am quite sure this problem will become larger. More people will be retiring, more people will have leisure forced on them, and it seems to me that it is time some inquiry was set on foot as to the best way to cope with these people.

There is another class of people who, again, have leisure forced upon them, and that is the patients who go into hospital. I do not mean the ones who go in for a short time with an acute illness and who are there perhaps for only a fortnight, for with them it is no real problem. I am referring to the longer-stay patients. This was brought home to me by a cousin of mine, a very intelligent person, who unfortunately broke her leg, was taken to hospital and was there for twelve weeks or more. She wrote to me and said that the boredom of being in hospital was almost more than she could bear, lying in bed with absolutely nothing to do. I am sure the same thing must apply to people who go into homes, people with really long-term illnesses who go into places where they are taken care of and are well looked after, but where absolutely nothing is done to keep them interested.

VISCOUNT MONTGOMERY OF ALAMEIN

My Lords, may I ask the noble Lord one question? He has paid great attention to leisure time when one retires. I should have thought that the much more urgent question is to teach the young people of to-day how to use their leisure time as they grow up. Is that not a matter of education? Should it not begin initially in the home and be carried on in the school? It is no good waiting for him to become a lavatory attendant.

LORD AMULREE

The noble and gallant Field Marshal is quite right. It should begin at school, but, unfortunately, we have a large number of people to whom the same problem applies who went to school a long time ago, and it will be a long time before we can catch up on the matter. I agree that we should start when they are that age rather than wait until they are 95.

Having put in my word for patients in homes and hospitals, I should like to say that although there are not a large number of elderly people who can do full-time jobs, one wants to get as much work as one can for them. One would like to see them working on a production basis so that they feel they are actually contributing something to the world, rather than working in arts and crafts just to keep them amused. That is why I am grateful the noble Baroness has initiated this debate, for it has enabled me to put these points to your Lordships.

3.47 p.m.

THE LORD BISHOP OF CHESTER

My Lords, I should like to add my word of gratitude and congratulation to the noble Lady for the ability and charm with which she has introduced this important subject. There are few Members of your Lordships' House who have been able to use leisure to such a profitable extent as has the noble Lady herself, and we are grateful to her for having spoken from the background of her own personal experience.

It is implicit in this debate that we shall all have at our disposal in the future a great deal more time than is needed for the earning of our living. The introduction of labour-saving devices and automatic processes, both in industry and in the home, will increasingly require less and less time to be devoted to the business of making and distributing things, and will make available more and more time which may be devoted to activities that are not required of us, forced upon us by the exigencies of economic demands. This situation suggests, as the noble Lady has suggested, a strange reversal of our previous experience. In the past, apart from those whose affluence meant that they did not need to work, the necessity of not having to work has all too often been imposed upon men by the tragedy of economic recession. It now appears that the necessity of not having to work in the future as we have done in the past will be the lot of all men and will become part of our system of life, not through economic disaster but because of economic efficiency and prosperity. The curious turn of the wheel can produce the same state of affairs from directly opposite circumstances.

We need the experts to tell us the extent of the changes to which we can look forward, though it needs little imagination to picture the radical nature of the changes in our outlook and behaviour which will come when work, though far from being the major preoccupation of men's lives, becomes merely an incident in them. Some of us will be less influenced than others, for automation cannot be introduced in the training of men's minds, the health of their bodies, and the pastoral care of their souls. Yet even in these departments changes will come. I envisage, for instance, in my own vocation that there will be a great increase in the number of those who offer themselves for ordination to a part-time ministry, so that their leisure may be profitably used in the service of the Church. We have long known the priest scholar, the priest teacher, the priest doctor, and the priest farmer. Why not in the future the priest civil servant, the priest scientist, the priest businessman, the worker priest?

But the point this debate must bring home is that this increased leisure is fraught with great possibilities not only for the increase of man's happiness but also for his suffering. The release from the wearisome drudgery of work which demands the greater part of man's time and leaves him little opportunity for recreation must, if rightly used, be a source of untold blessing. Coupled to the increased opportunities for travel, for appreciating and practising the Arts, for taking healthy exercise, the new leisure which has already come into men's lives must be the gateway to a world which has too often in the past been the privilege of the few. But leisure, whether it comes from prosperity or adversity, can, if it is not understood and provided for, prove to be a curse rather than a blessing.

Most of us, especially in our more harrassed moments, will have some sympathy with the sentiment expressed on the tombstone of a charwoman who had spent her life working her fingers to the bone, that She has gone to Heaven to do nothing for ever and ever. Undoubtedly, it is sometimes heaven to have to do nothing. But, equally, we know that such a state in the long run would be not heaven but hell. We have seen the searing effect which enforced idleness can have upon men's characters, and we should recognise that misused or unused leisure, the boredom of having time on our hands, is one of the major causes of misery and misbehaviour.

The difficulty is that one cannot directly train people to use their leisure, for it is of the essence of leisure that it should be free, and at the disposal of the individual to use as he is moved. Most of us know the disastrous effect which deliberate training can have upon one's appreciation of things which, had we not been forced to accept them, could have been thrilling and satisfying. The romance of the life of St. Paul has been darkened for many of us by having to learn his missionary journeys by rote. The profundity and beauty of a Shakespeare play has been lost by having to do it for the school certificate or the G.C.E. If young people suspect that in education for leisure they are being got at and improved by the "do-gooders", they will soon react by rejecting those activities which in leisure could be a source of satisfaction simply because they have been dulled in the classroom.

The leisure which is increasingly made available will be a challenge to the whole personality and to the overall education which each has received. Men will not use their leisure wisely and well because they have been trained to specific activities which will keep them busy and out of mischief, but because they are educated in the fullest sense and are capable of appreciating their opportunities and fitting themselves to take advantages of them.

However, the facilities and the incentives must be available to those who wish to profit from them, and it is at this point that the public authority should be ready to give guidance and encouragement. One of the most obvious ways that this can be done is in the realm of sporting activities, for they are clearly one of the most wholesome uses of leisure. Since the publication of the Report of the Wolfenden Committee on Sport, and the debate on it in your Lordships' House, the Government have done much and this should be duly recognised. Grants for coaching schemes and administration have greatly increased; financial help to the Central Council for Physical Recreation and the National Playing Fields Association have relieved those organisations of a good deal of their burden; grants to local voluntary sports bodies under the Physical Training and Recreation Act have been more generous; there has been better co-ordination between the various Ministries concerned with the provision of sporting facilities; larger grants have been made to overseas teams, valuable surveys have been carried out and increased expenditure, generally, has been stimulated.

I do not think that sufficient credit has been given to Her Majesty's Government for what has been done, but the reason for this lack of appreciation, I would suggest, is that most people do not know that it has been done. With all this increased aid there is still lacking the incentive and the imaginative presentation which will give a new look to all that is being done. There is an air of improvisation and a lack of continuity in the policies of Her Majesty's Government. No permanent section has been created in the Department of Education and Science to cope with the complicated and specialised problems of giving aid to sport. I still believe that the need for a Sports Development Council is as great as ever, and I hope that Her Majesty's Government will look at this matter again.

One of the points which the Wolfenden Committee emphasised was what it called the gap, the gap between school age and adulthood. Many children learn to play games at school but never go on to play games after they have left school. My experience leads me to think that this gap is not confined to sporting activities. Children are to-day given excellent opportunities for learning cultural and creative activities of a wide variety at school. Do they continue these interests after school? No doubt, like many of your Lordships, I attend a great many school speech days. The proceedings are generally embellished by musical performances of a very high order. There is good singing and good instrumental playing of good music. I have often asked myself: what happens to these performers? I doubt whether they have learnt to carry on in choral singing, in participation in orchestras, in support of opera, concerts and so on, and there is here, so I believe, a gap. If this volume of effort and expert tuition is largely running to waste, there ought to be careful investigation to discover why these opportunities are not bearing fruit in the leisure occupation of those who have been given such excellent training at school.

At the risk of being repetitive, it must be asserted again and again in this debate that the future prospects of increased leisure present us with wonderful opportunities for the enriching of men's lives, and fearful possibilities for their self-destruction. If life becomes too easy, if men are deprived of the element of challenge, then all too easily they become soft and the good things within their grasp become Dead Sea fruit in their mouths. The increased leisure that will come into the lives of all of us requires us to ask where it is that we, and especially our young people, are going to find the causes which will call forth our idealism, our discipline, our self-sacrifice. In the past, paradoxically enough, these things have all too often been found in war where so many, in Noel Coward's words, found a strange heaven in the midst of unbelievable hell. That challenge will, we pray, not come again, for even if there were to be another war, which God forbid!, it would give little opportunity for heroism or sacrifice.

We must look else where for this essential ingredient for men's happiness. I believe it is to be found in the reawaken- ing of the need for service and the readiness of those who have leisure to use it in responding to the expanding opportunities which the needs of the world present. Voluntary Service Overseas has paved the way. The recent debate in your Lordships' House on the Welfare Services has reminded us of the demand here at home. There is a great need for an imaginative and forceful effort to bring to the notice of our people the ways in which they may use their leisure time in service to those less fortunate than themselves. If our new-found leisure is used solely in self-satisfaction, it will destroy us. If, as a result of the opportunity it provides, time and talent are used to relieve those in need, it will prove to be, as it should be, a source of strength to our nation and happiness to our people.

4.2 p.m.

LORD WILLIS

My Lords, in my contribution to this debate I wish to touch, in particular, on the problem of young people. Before I come on to this in detail, I should like to thank my noble friend Lady Burton of Coventry for having put down this Motion. As she knows, I was most anxious that this subject should be debated, because it had appeared to me that we never seemed to find, in this House or in the other place, sufficient leisure to discuss leisure, although it is a vital and important problem.

The result of much that we discuss in your Lordships' House is directed towards the problem of increasing the available resources of this country; towards increasing production, more productivity. This is the Golden Fleece that every political Jason nails to his masthead—increased productivity. But this time we have the opportunity in this debate to ask the questions: what is this for? Why? Of course, increased production is vital, but it cannot be an end in itself. It will make us richer, we hope; it will end more of the poverty, we hope. But for what purpose? What comes then? The world is moving forward at breathtaking speed. Every year, every week, almost every day, our scientists and our technicians make discoveries which can change and reorganise our lives and the lives of our children: but we seem to be caught up so much with the day-to-day rush of our present-day problems that we are never able to look into this problem.

I hope your Lordships will forgive me if I agree immediately with the noble Earl, Lord Arran. It may sound naÏve or airy-fairy, but I believe that the object of Government must be to improve the human condition; to increase the sum total of human happiness. I wish we had a department of human happiness in the Government. We may differ on ways and means and priorities —indeed, we on this side very often differ from the noble Lords on the other side—and it is not always easy to achieve a balance. Very often, for example, you increase the happiness of the landlord at the expense of the tenant, or the other way round. But, by and large, the common aim is to increase the total sum of happiness. And—a new factor in this situation—the incredible thing is that to-day we have available the means to make this possible for the first time in human history. For the first time in five hundred generations of human life we have the opportunity to create human happiness.

It is possible to exaggerate, and I know we have a long way to go yet. Above all, we must learn to control the forces that science is releasing for us, so that we do not destroy ourselves in another war. But if we can do this, then who can doubt that, on this island at least, we are within reach of the basic target of all human endeavour?—that is, we are providing the material needs and the leisure for everyone to enjoy a rich and varied life. Previous societies were divided into the leisured classes and the others. To a great extent that distinction no longer applies: leisure has become the right and the privilege of all; and this, as I say, is the basic and new feature in the situation that we have to face. Moreover, we have to face this fact, also. The amount of leisure is going to increase, as other speakers have indicated. The Americans have estimated that by the year 2000 their population will double, but the demand for outdoor recreational facilities will treble. Our population is expected to increase by half as much again by the year 2000, and I think it is fair to say that our demand for outdoor recreational facilities will, at the same time, treble. This gives some idea of the scope and extent of the problem.

To me, the central dilemma we are facing with regard to leisure to-day—and it is going to increase to-morrow—can be illustrated by one simple example. Take John Smith, who has worked a full week in a factory in the city. He decides he would like to take a day off on Sunday and take his family down to the seaside for a breath of sea air. A thoughtful society has provided him with full employment and a 40-hour week, so that he has the time and means to do this, and has provided him with the mobility to do it in the shape of a motor car. What happens? He finds that a few million other people have the same idea. He finds his mobility is reduced to nothing as he gets stuck, bumper to bumper, behind other cars, and he spends half his precious leisure stuck in a car breathing exhaust fumes instead of sea air. That is a slight exaggeration, but I think it brings home the problem. The simple fact in that respect is that our road building has not kept pace with the growth of car population. To take the analogy further, the arrangements we are making in the shape of facilities for leisure are not keeping pace with the increasing demands of leisure.

Let me come now to the particular problem of young people and leisure. This is the group, the teenagers, which is always in the news. A small proportion have, in a sense, no basic problem at the moment so far as leisure is concerned, because they are grammar school boys and college boys who will eventually go up to universities. Their time is either fully occupied with studies—and I can speak on this because I have an eighteen-year-old son who is in that position at the moment—or, for when they have leisure, there are ample facilities in the colleges, as in most universities, for recreation fields, rugger fields, halls, tennis courts and so forth; theatres, debating societies, film societies and so on. These facilities are all part of the life of the boys of the grammar schools, who then go on to universities. Society, quite rightly, provides these lads and girls with these things, and the result is that in the universities and colleges we have in these boys and girls an exciting and intelligent cross-section of young people who are restless, questioning and critical. This is no bad thing, and we should not resent it, as so many older people seem to do. It is the function of the younger generation to challenge the values and standards of the older generation. They are not always right, but their challenge is vital and honest. It is in this clash between the two standards and two values that new standards and new values arise for the future.

That is one thing. But consider the position of the young people who leave school at 15—the great majority. The new factor here is that they have more leisure than ever before—leisure without fear, without restraint—and they have money in their pockets. This is the first generation ever to be in this situation. This is a new problem. One can say that they are better off than they have ever been, and better off than their fathers ever were; and in one sense that is true. Yet time and again we hear that they are bored; we hear this word "boredom". I am not talking about the extreme fringe; I am not talking about the long-haired lavender cowboys, with their high heels and mascara make-up: I am talking about the average run of young people who leave school at fifteen. Some adults react in anger at this problem. They say: "They have more money than we ever had; they are better off than we ever were; they are too soft and we spoon feed them too much". That reaction is understandable; but it is rather stupid. Does anybody doubt that if—which God forbid!—there were ever another war these young men and women we are now criticising would give as devoted service as their fathers did in the past?

My Lords, there is nothing basically wrong with young people. We ought to consider a few facts before we blame them. First of all, let us remember that society has in some senses branded them as failures. I know that great care is taken in the Ministry of Education and by the educational authorities not to talk of boys who do not pass the 11-plus as failures. I know that it is regarded as a selection process and a screening process. We all know that. But the pressures of society, parents and communities are such that these boys are regarded as the riot-so-clever, as the ones who have been held back, the ones who have failed. How often, in fact, does one hear the words: "He has passed his 11-plus" or "He has failed his 11-plus". They are branded with failure. They leave school at fifteen, the age when there is bound to be a reaction of any normal young person against the discipline of both school and parents. They are treated like adults in many respects; they go to work, as their fathers do; they bring home a pay packet, like father does; they have the urge to be adults and to behave as independent human beings and, in addition, they have all kinds of biological problems seething inside them.

In addition—and this is one of the curious paradoxes of our present progress in education—many of the natural leaders of these young people have been creamed off by our educational system. I am sure that if my old friend, Lord Lawson, or Ernie Bevin had been youngsters to-day they would have gone to grammar schools and then to university and would have been in a special stream, separated from the vast majority of young people. These young people have lost these natural leaders. On the whole they go into the dullest and the least exciting jobs, where there is a great decline in skills and training, and they are often unable to follow their fathers or take the same pride in craftsmanship that their fathers did. The other day I heard of a steel erector, a "spiderman", one of those proud men who take great risks in their job. Their job is dying out to-day because of the introduction of pre-stressed concrete, or something like that about which I do not much understand; but the steel erector, the "spiderman", is going out, and the boys cannot follow their father. In a sense, they feel deprived because of this. One of them is working now as a tailor in a shop and he feels that this is a "cissie" job.

These are the young men and women who explode on to our streets every year in their hundreds and thousands. And what do they find? Nothing!—little more than nothing! Most of our towns, from the point of view of these young people, are dead and lifeless deserts with tiny, cheap coffee bars and record shops, like neon oases, here and there. In one locality that I know young people crowd into an automatic launderette with their guitars to play songs because it is the one place they can find in which to amuse themselves. Their jobs are grey; their streets are grey and there is no real outlet for their natural exuberance and restlessness. I do not want to exaggerate. Many of these young people adapt themselves and find outlets, are reached by social workers, and so on; but many do not. And all the time we, the older generation, are responsible for building up the pressures and tensions which surround these young people.

No generation in history has been subject to such pressures as this generation. Through television, films, pulp papers, they imbibe, day after day, false values and the doctrine of cheap success. "Success is all that matters." This phrase is screamed at them day after day. You, too, can be a beauty queen, and win £1,000 and a Hollywood contract." Advertisements are beamed at them with the intensity of a laser ray. "You can have a skin like a film star if you use this soap"—with the implication that if you use it, you might even become a film star. "You will get your girl if you use this hair cream"; "Real men smoke such-and-such cigarettes", and so on. They read headlines about themselves in the Press and begin to believe their own publicity and to live up to their own image. Is it any wonder that a small proportion of them seek to intensify their lives by desperate remedies and that the very small lunatic fringe do so by drink, noise and drugs because they cannot stand the pressure? A tremendous number seek further intensity for their lives and further colour in other things; they turn to weird clothes, motor-cycles, "pop" music, and so on.

Two or three years ago, I was working on a television play about young people. I spent a good deal of time with what we used to call the "corner boys". One of them said to me in relation to his motor-cycle: "When I am on my bike doing 'a ton', I feel somebody". There is a tremendous lot to be learned from a statement like that. Without his motor-bike, he felt like nothing. These machines take them out of the cities, give them the thrill, danger and excitement which is lacking in their own lives. It is much the same with popular music. During the last few years there has been a fantastic development in popular music—this tidal wave of noise and frenetic energy under which we are in danger of becoming submerged. I am glad to see that Richard Hoggart has been appointed to make an inquiry into this.

But the reasons for this wild development are not very hard to find. There was a vacuum there: and it had to be filled. We did not fill it, so they filled it themselves. So we have the age of the Beatles. What is the attraction and appeal of a group like the Beatles to modern youngsters? It is not hard to find. "They are ordinary lads, just like you and me"—this is what the people say. "They did it; and I can do it." They are alive, noisy, enthusiastic, and they are technically very good. It is all a matter of admiration. They are colourful and different; they thumb their noses at the adult world and its conventions. They are successful, they are objects of envy; and by listening to the Beatles and others like them young people can get companionship with others of their own age.

Let us face it: a great deal of this process is natural and inevitable; but a lot of it—too much of it—is artificially created. The teenage market in this country is worth £30 million a year; and this is obviously going to attract a few people who feel they can make a "quick buck" out of it. Many commercial interests have exploited and whipped up this movement and created more publicity for it. I read a newspaper report about some of the side Products of the Beatles industry. There were wigs, sweaters, headbands, shoes, bracelets, belts, boots, tiepins, dolls with cornflakes, and millions of pictures. One firm making plastic busts of Shakespeare for the 400th anniversary discovered they were not making enough money, and turned to making plastic busts of the Beatles.

My Lords, there is no sign of an end to the deluge. One "pop" group after the other comes forward to fill the vacuum. And what is the attitude of the older generation? The attitude is: "If you can't lick 'em, join 'em." We have the spectacle of many grave, reverend and learned seigneurs climbing on the Beatles' bandwaggon. The attitude seems to me—and it seems to me an attitude of complete defeat—that "It keeps them busy; it keeps them off the streets"—as if this were enough. Let me read a little quotation about the Beatles. They herald a cultural movement among the young which may become part of the history of our time … something important and heartening is happening here. The young are rejecting the sloppy standards of their elders … they have discerned dimly that in a world of automation, declining craftsmanship and increased leisure, something of this kind is essential to restore the human instinct to excel at something and the human faculty of discrimination. A statement like that would be funny, if it were not so tragic; and it was made, I am afraid, by the Minister responsible for Information, Sir William Deedes.

Are we going to have a situation in which other centuries will look back and say that the eighteenth century was the century of Bach and Beethoven, the nineteenth century was the century of Brahms, and the twentieth century was the century of Beatles and Bingo? Say all the things you like about the Beatles, and I will join with you. Say that they are likely, youthful, relatively harmless. But surely we have a higher responsibility than that. We have to ask: is it enough? This is not culture. This is a cult—a cheap, plastic, candyfloss substitute for culture. And somebody should have the courage to say so. it fulfils some basic psychological function as primitive as the war dances of savage and backward people. It is an act of worship of "phoney" idols, a release from drudgery and greyness, an artificial and temporary breakthrough to excitement, a ritual "pep pill"—and that is all one can say of it. We ought not to go under in the tidal wave. Somebody ought to make a stand. Somebody ought to say boldly, "This is not enough." Above all, we ought to see that the fault lies not with them but with us. We are the people who left the vacuum that has to be filled.

My Lords, Carlyle said: The great law of culture is: let each become all that he is capable of being. I should like that written up in all Government offices. This is the job of the Government, to provide the means whereby all young people can develop full and rich lives. I agree that we cannot legislate for leisure. That would be wrong. Leisure in itself is freedom. Every man must be free to use his leisure as he wishes, provided that he does not encroach on the liberty and leisure of others. We cannot tell a man what book to read, but we can build a library and stock it with a variety of books, and then encourage him to use them. That is what we can do—build libraries, speaking in the wider sense.

Nor can we impose culture from the top. My friend Arnold Wesker made a brave and gallant attempt to do this, but it cannot be done from the top. As the right reverend Prelate the Lord Bishop of Chester said, one cannot be a "do-gooder" in culture. People resent it; they resent people coming down to do good to them. We can only provide the conditions in which a thousand different plants can grow and produce a thousand different blossoms in their own way. This is where the weakness lies, because we do not provide the conditions or the facilities.

We are a wealthy nation, and our democratic and cultural traditions are the envy of others. Our roll of honour includes Shakespeare, Dickens, the Brontes, Congreve, Sheridan, Turner, Wren, Gainsborough, Reynolds, Purcell, Delius, Elgar, Vaughan Williams, Britten, Burbage, Garrick, Kean, Olivier, Gielgud, Ashcroft and thousands of others. Our actors, our companies, our young film-makers are welcomed all over the world wherever they go. We have wonderful cause to be proud of our cultural traditions and heritage; yet as a nation—and this is the contradiction—we adopt towards the Arts in general the attitude of Philistines and barbarians. We are as miserly as Scrooge. The noble Lord, Lord Derwent, in reply to a question that I raised the other day, said, "We always do things better" in this country. Alas! I weep. I wish i[...] were true. We give to our theatres all over the country less than certain cities in Western Germany give to their one single theatre. That is but one example. Time and again one reads that our young people have to travel miles to train for the Olympics because there is not a swimming bath where they live. I live very near Bromley, which has a Conservative, but a very good and progressive, Council, which is going to put up a new theatre building. But at the same time they have plans for a multi-storey car park next the railway station. We already have a large number of car parks in Bromley (they are very progressive about that), but they are going to have another one, at a cost of something like £300,000—and of course it will bring trade to the borough by bringing people with cars—but the plan for a youth centre in Bromley is on the shelf. I ask what is the priority in this day and age? It is difficult to say, I admit, but my view is that the youth centre should come down off the shelf.

It is time, I think, that we faced this problem squarely, and said to the leaders of the Government—to all politicians, in fact—that there is no point in a scientific revolution unless there is a cultural revolution, too; and this is what we need. There is no point in building muscle if the mind is neglected. There is no point in training workers in new skills to face the age of automation, if we neglect to help them to find also new cultural and spiritual development. It does not take a genius to see what must be done. I should like to give one or two points. To clear the way, we should start in the schools, by rousing the interest and stimulating the imagination there. I do not believe that enough of this is done, even yet. There is still too much cramming for examinations and not enough reliance on the stimulating of the imagination and the development of an all-round mind.

I think that we must overhaul the Service of Youth; give it more money, instead of the tiny dribs and drabs given to it now, and more help and more buildings. Let us make a big drive to recruit and train voluntary youth leaders from all sections of the community. Let us take the initiative in appealing to them to come forward and help in this field. We must build youth and cultural centres throughout the country. Let us use the facilities that exist. In many schools, for example, facilities lie unused through great portions of the week-end, or have days reserved only for the boys at school. The University of Hull, for example, is to spend a great deal of money on a theatre and playing fields for its students. Fine! I am all in agreement. But let the other children in Hull use it during some part of the week, or let them have a pari-passu kind of arrangement, so that one section of the community is not neglected at the expense of the other.

Let us try to harness the energy and daring of youth and extend schemes like the Duke of Edinburgh's Award and others; make them more popular, better known, and widen the basis on which youth can take part. Let us develop civic pride in various projects, and let our young people take an interest in these. A couple of years ago was in Australia where a small town, about the size of Amersham, had opened an Olympics-size swimming pool. I asked how they did it and was told that they ran a big campaign to raise the money in the town. They got something from the shire authority, and then they got the young people to dig the site. They had three good swimmers who they hoped would go to the Olympics. Why canot we do this? Again, where I live there are hardly any facilities for swimming. I am sure that we could get the money and the voluntary work if an appeal were made in the right way. Let us also give a new look, without prejudice, at some of the old-established youth organisations. Are the Scouts and the Guides, which have done such valuable work in the past, really "with it" to-day? Is there not a great deal more they could do to modernise their particular appeal to young people?

Could we not increase the subsidies, in addition, to the Arts Council, and get the National Theatre to tour—to take, for example, a film of Olivier's wonderful Othello so that it could be available to hundreds of thousands of other people? Cannot we take a new look at television, and suggest that it should not blindly follow trends but play a positive part in the encouragement of young people to do these things? And if they say that television is not there to sell, but merely to entertain, let us tell them that they sell a great many cigarettes through television and there are other, better things they can help us with. I should like to see the development through television of Mr. Harold Wilson's idea of a National University of the Air.

Finally, on the development of local civic radio stations, I have noticed with horror in the last week or so a revival of the campaign to allow commercial radio in this country. I hope that this will not be allowed, and that we shall stop it, because otherwise we shall merely have more airways "chugged up" with "pop" music.

People say: where is the money coming from? The money must be found, and it is there. One thousand million pounds a year goes on gambling in this country. The profit on "one-armed bandits"—that is, fruit machines—is £10 million a year. Think what the Arts Council could do with that! Why do we not nationalise the "one-armed bandits" and give the money to the Arts Council? But seriously, my Lords, why not a culture tax, as they have in some countries on the Continent, levied on juke boxes, "pop" records and authors who are out of copyright? All over the world Shakespeare goes, and he blacklegs on living authors, as George Bernard Shaw once said. If we put a one-half of one per cent. royalty on every performance of Shakespeare's plays, and on all these authors out of copyright, we could build up an enormous fund to help the Arts or the Youth Service in this country; or even if we had a national lottery, as they have in Sweden.

I apologise to your Lordships for taking so long, but. I have nearly finished. I do not pretend that this is a miracle cure; it cannot be. It will take years to get any results. But let us face the fact that youth feeds on ideas and causes, and we have to lire their imaginations and give them positive outlets. This is urgent in other ways. If you want to look at it merely commercially, may I say that there was a report of an American company who were recently trying to choose a site on which to build a new factory. They sent a representative over, and had the choice of a site in Yorkshire or a site in Germany. They chose the site in Germany, for the simple reason that the workers in the factory would have more cultural facilities and sporting facilities available in the area in Germany, and they wondered what the executives would do on a Sunday in that area of Yorkshire.

The situation is desperate. It is not a question of thinking what it will be like in the year 2000, hut of thinking what it is like now. It is so urgent and desperate that. I beg the Government to launch a new cultural offensive, side by side with this new cultural revolution. We dare not forgo our responsibility for leadership in this field. We cannot leave this vacuum of leisure to be filled entirely by the "pop" promoters or the bingo merchants. We have to get our sum right; we have to get the equation right, and say that prosperity is not enough. We have to beware the third day. I should like to finish up by quoting a little of Shakespeare in relation to this subject. He says: This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hope: tomorrow blossoms. And bears his blushing honours thick upon him: The third day comes a frost, a killing frost, And when he thinks (good easy man, full surely) His greatness is a-ripening,-nips his root And then he falls … My Lords, I think we should ponder those words.

4.35 p.m.

BARONESS ELLIOT OF HARWOOD

My Lords, we are having an extremely interesting debate, and we are much indebted to the noble Baroness, Lady Burton of Coventry, for having put her Motion on the Order Paper and given us the opportunity to take part. I was most interested in what the noble Lord, Lord Willis, had to say, and may say that with a very great deal of what he said I entirely agree. I think he has put energy, drive and thought into this, and what he was talking about makes sense: as he said, it adds up. On that I would support the noble Lord wholeheartedly.

I was most impressed by the analysis made by the noble Baroness, Lady Burton of Coventry, of the situation which might arise out of the development of automation. First of all, it is mathematical, and then it seems to me also to be a jigsaw puzzle. How mathematical jigsaw puzzles can work out, I do not know. But the fact is that the noble Lady has put before us a very challenging picture, and it is one about which we are all concerned and to which we should all like to make some contribution. I should like, also, to support what the noble Lady said about Coventry. It is a most remarkable city. Coventry has done things since the war which no other city has done, and it has shown great faith in the future. Its cathedral alone is one of the greatest buildings to be put up in my lifetime; and I am sure, also, although I have not had experience of it, that the noble Lady's reference to the theatre is absolutely true.

The fact is that in various parts of our country a tremendous amount of drive, initiative and enterprise is going on; but we want to see it spread further, and we should like to see more than we do now. I have been listening to the speeches (there are many more to follow, and I do not propose to detain your Lordships for long), but it is not easy to see exactly what can be done beyond increasing what we are at the moment trying to do. The world is divided into those people who have more leisure than they want and those who have not nearly enough leisure and no one day is long enough for all they want to do. Those who have too much leisure are, on the whole, people who indulge in rather foolish things sometimes, in order to get a kick out of it and to fill in their time.

I do not think these people are entirely divided by wealth or education. I know a lot of rich people who, it seems to me, spend their leisure time in the most foolish and unproductive ways. Equally, I know a lot of people who are not so rich who spend their leisure in interesting, wise and creative ways. Although I agree with the noble Lord, Lord Willis, that there are greater opportunities for people who go on to universities, to technical colleges and so on, it is not only a division of "haves" and "have-nots", rich and poor, or however you like to express it. The fact is that leisure is a subject on which we can exercise our own judgment and ideas, which are very varied, and one cannot legislate for them. There is no prescribing, it seems to me

The noble Lord, Lord Amulree, spoke about the leisure of the old people, about whom he knows so much. I will join forces, if I may, with the noble Lord, Lord Willis, and talk about the young, because the subject of young people is something about which I know a little, having spent some part of my life trying to discover more about it. Many years ago leisure was restricted, money was restricted and young people had not the choice of the alternatives they have today. They were happy, and it may be that they were as happy, or even happier, than children are to-day. But it was quite different. The noble Baroness, Lady Burton of Coventry, is right in saying that what we are facing to-day is something absolutely different from what has been faced in any other generation.

It is that very difference which the noble Lord, Lord Willis, emphasised: the difference of choice; of having your leisure over-organised; and in the sense he was talking about "pop" music, advertising and so on, it is almost being interfered with, because you are hardly given the chance to choose. So although there is much more time and many more opportunities, there are other things which make it more difficult for young people to choose what is recreative and satisfying in the real sense, and what will give them something in life which will be of interest always.

I do not think we ought to get too much concerned about the fact that we always hear of the bad cases and not of the good. A vast amount of work is being done through the Youth Service, of which I have some small knowledge and on which I think the Government are to be congratulated. I agree that it is not enough. I agree that we want more money and more opportunities, so that people would then have a better chance of taking these opportunities.

Nevertheless, a great start was made with the Albemarle Report, by the establishment, shortly afterwards, of a college for youth leadership training. I learned by inquiry at the Ministry of Education that they are now turning out 250 to 300 students a year and that they should reach the target of 1,300 new youth leaders by 1966. That is very satisfactory. But there remains this terrible shortage, not only of trained people, but of people to train. As we know, the personnel position in education, whether in the primary school or as youth leaders, is very difficult indeed. There has also been a big drive to train part-time people for youth leadership. I was encouraged to find that there are over 4,000 part-time leaders employed at the present time by 142 local education authorities. I think that is most encouraging, although admittedly it is not enough. I also found, with considerable interest, that the building projects for the Youth Service are going ahead satisfactorily. In 1964, 682 projects, worth £6 million, have been completed, and 108 projects for the Youth Service worth £1.9 million are under consideration. The Advisory Committee which is organising all this have a further 218 projects worth £1.6 million. Those things are all in the right direction, and we want to see them go ahead even faster. I believe those voluntary organisations, to some of which the noble Lord, Lord Willis, referred, put forward even bigger schemes, and each year they fall between £7 million and £8 million short of what they would like to have. I think we could well put forward the proposal that we should speed up the building estimates and building projects for the voluntary organisations as well as the local education authorities, over the next ten-year period.

One realises that one is always talking about more money. We have had many debates in your Lordships' House about education, and we know of the tremendous programme for universities. We have had debates on the Newsom Report and on primary education. We know that vast sums of money are needed for all these things, and that it is difficult to provide enough money for everything. Nevertheless, I would put in a plea for the adolescent—for the people who are in that gap about which the right reverend Prelate the Lord Bishop of Chester spoke and which is difficult to fill.

I think this is a matter of urgency. I also believe that if we could do something for those adolescents we should find that they are not far away from being law-abiding citizens. On the whole, they are not anxious to be bored moped-riders, smashing up peaceful seaside resorts or having gang fights with other teenagers. I believe that if they were given other opportunities and other chances, that type of activity would probably die away. And this is urgent, because now we have 1 million more teenagers than we had some years ago, since the bulge has gone through the schools and has now come out into this age group.

It is difficult to persuade the adult population—and here I think we are all to some extent responsible—of the urgency and enormous importance of this problem, and that it is something which we adults must do something about. And yet—and I speak now with some experience in local education—it is difficult to persuade people that the Youth Service should not be at the bottom of the programme for expenditure on development. I should like to congratulate the Department of Education, because in the last years they have increased considerably their grants to voluntary organisations. What is more, they have brought in 38 voluntary organisations who had no grants before. This was one of the recommendations of the Albemarle Committee.

I am sure your Lordships know of the extraordinarily enterprising things which are being undertaken through the enterprise of the organisations. The organisation I know best, the Youth Club Organisation, has arranged expeditions to Greenland, to Greece, across the Pindus Mountains, camping and hiking holidays in Europe, and on one occasion an expedition to Israel. Great interest has been aroused by the Duke of Edinburgh's Awards, and the tests which young people go through are very exhausting and trying, and also character-making in consequence.

Nevertheless, with all that—and there is much more that one could talk about —there are a great number of young people who are not interested in this kind of thing. What is it they want? The noble Lord, Lord Willis, has put before us the idea of developing more of the Arts Council activities, more theatres, more art galleries, libraries, and so on. In all of that I could not agree with him more, but I am still afraid that the young we are trying to influence will not be tempted into those places unless more is done to bring their educational interests to that point.

I think there is something we could do for the young adults. These are the 17 and 18-year olds, who may possibly be thinking about getting married or planning to get married, and who will have their own homes, and so on. They want a different type of club or youth organisation, because they are less interested in activities and more interested in thought and discussion. I should hope that we might develop in our youth organisations the kind of club to which some of us may belong, where we meet our friends and have a meal and talk, and where nothing is particularly organised but where we can discuss the problems of life together. It is not a question of talking down to people or talking at people, but of letting the people meet each other on their own level, with ordinary discussion as equals, under conditions with which the old-fashioned types of youth club did not have any particular relation—a rather sophisticated and more adult club is what I would look for, for that type of person, with time to talk, time to think, and not necessarily to be organised.

Variety is what we are seeking, and while I agree that we want to encourage the activities to which people respond enthusiastically, and while we want to increase the number of playing fields, swimming pools and the things about which the noble Lord, Lord Willis, has spoken, I still think there is room for a place where leisure can be spent, not actively, but in a more sophisticated manner. For that, we need new buildings and more generous contributions from local authorities as well as from the Government.

Too often, I believe, the young look with great impatience at the lack of interest of the adult community in their problems; and it is because of that impatience that they appear to be brusque and rude in an endeavour to "get their own back", as it were, on us. This is where skilful club or youth leaders can be of very great help. But they must have good salaries and good buildings, and they must be prepared to have immense patience and understanding with those rather tough young things.

I believe that in the Albemarle Report we have a blueprint which, expanded and developed as it was always intended it should be, will provide some, though not all, of the answers to this problem. If we can get more money, more buildings and more people, it is not beyond the bounds of possibility that in five years' time the purple heart takers, the "mods" and "rockers" and all those strange characters whom we read about in the newspapers, will themselves be organising their own worthwhile activities and not breaking up other people's homes.

My Lords, I believe that if the Government could see their way to go further in this field of youth service, if they could undertake yet more responsibilities —and I know it means money; we cannot get away from that—and if, at the same time, the adult community, whether it is in the local authorities in the areas in which people are living or nationally, would take a keener interest in what is going on and in helping in any way they can, we should get a much better relationship between the young, very active and possibly rather brusque and rude, growing-up teenager and the adult community.

I hope that out of the debate we are having to-day, which I am sure will bring forward many more ideas, as it has already brought forward many ideas, we may take a useful step into the age of automation, which, as the noble Baroness, Lady Burton of Coventry, has rightly said, is not really so far away. It may be far away in some industries, but not in the modern industry in which the noble Baroness participates. To an extent, it is already with us, and we have somehow or other to meet it. I urge upon the Government, in the case of young people, to continue the good work and to expand it as much as they possibly can.

4.52 p.m.

THE LORD BISHOP OF NORWICH

My Lords, like others of your Lordships, I should like first to thank the noble Baroness, Lady Burton of Coventry, for initiating this debate, and for the setting in which she has introduced it. We have been assured again and again that the development of automation may bring factories and offices to do mechanically many processes at present being done by men and women; will lead to increased leisure as well as increased wealth, and will not lead to unemployment—a particular form of leisure which no one wants. The fear of being called a Luddite has kept all but the most intrepid sceptics quiet. But now the anxieties begin to mount up, and the noble Baroness has called our attention to them.

The evidence from the United States, as popularised in this country by, for instance, Michael Harrington's book The Other America, indicates that increased automation is adding steadily to an increasingly grave problem of unemployment. Worse, it is both perpetuating and creating large pools of virtually unemployable people; areas of self-perpetuating sub-culture, with all the processes of degeneration built into them. The effect is felt not only among manual workers; bank staffs are feeling it, and white collar workers generally have to face the possibility either of reduction of staff or of refusal to replace those who leave.

In this country the President of the Amalgamated Engineering Union, Sir William Carron, recently warned the Union's national committee that some redundancies under automation are inevitable. The maintenance of the machines will not absorb the redundant production workers as had previously been hoped and asserted. So, also, the Principal of the Manchester College of Science, reflecting a week ago on the same facts, called for a comprehensive programme of re-education now for unskilled workers, nearly one and a half million of them, who, he alleges, will be unemployable if the industrial changes are effected which must be effected if we are to maintain our projected 4 per cent. growth. The alternative is that these men will not only be unable to share the increased wealth which automation is supposed to bring, but will be subjected to all the personal and social deterioration which we know accompanies unemployment and unemployability—to an imposed and unwanted form of leisure which past experience has shown to be one of the most degrading social evils which can afflict our society.

In advocating a comprehensive programme of re-education, one is all too well aware of the considerable difficulties in introducing those most likely to be affected by unemployment to new skills and new types of work at a time when some would feel themselves either too old or, at all events, too little inclined or prepared for re-education, and would, in any case, as they must, be peculiarly reluctant to do other than fight for the continuance of their present work. But if the process of re-education is presented and recognised as a means of continued security of employment, this is surely an undertaking in which the Government, employers and trade unions could successfully, and indeed must successfully, co-operate as a matter of immediate importance.

I believe that these sober realities should have a place in our minds when we are debating this subject, as indeed they have been already in the speech given by the noble Baroness, for we are not concerned only with how people should use their spare time; we are concerned with how they shall live. One can scarcely imagine this House debating leisure, still less debating it as a problem, 100 years ago; but that it is a problem for the present, and an even larger problem for the future, is evident from the speeches which have already been made and from the previous debate initiated by the noble Earl, Lord Arran, to whose speech this afternoon I listened with great enjoyment—and awake!

Some of the issues with which we are faced to-day arose in what I suppose was the last major period in which the active promotion of useful pleasure pursuits was Government policy—namely, in the Tudor Era, when King Henry VIII gave a Royal lead in providing tilt yards and tennis courts, built on a piece of Abbey property alienated to him in Whitehall where a Saxon hall or palace had once stood, and recently opened up in the excavations made in refitting the Treasury site. Archery and manly sports were encouraged to prepare the nation to defend itself against attack from France and Spain; but also, in a time of deep social and economic disturbance, to divert young people from joining the strolling bands of "sturdy beggars".

For the most part, however, leisure and its pursuits remained the privilege of the few until the Industrial Revolution. Then, for large numbers of the population, rural toil was converted into urban toil in what was socially a far more merciless environment, from which many people still suffer. Relief from this toil was sought in short bursts of highly emotional participation in mass occasions. It might be the preaching of a Wesley among the colliers of Bristol; it might equally well be a public execution at the Tyburn Gallows at Marble Arch. It might be a great political occasion—a speech from Mr. Gladstone; or it might be a brass band contest; a club day with the friendly societies; or a day in the crowds on Epsom Downs or Hampstead Heath. This was the recreation of the poor—the industrious poor, not the very poor. This made the maximum use of limited time in terms of emotional return and the minimum demand on limited cash. It needed no capital, no equipment. Saturday afternoon football crowds, when they happened only on Saturday afternoons, brought this picture right into our own times.

In no more than a generation this picture has changed. It has changed because, as a nation, we have redistributed our wealth and the allocation of our time. And with this there has arisen a remarkable proliferation of activities and interests in which an increasing number of people are participating in the greater amount of time released from work and the physical and mental demands made by the necessity of living. This means that leisure is no longer to be regarded solely in terms of rest or emotional compensation after the effort and tedium of long hours of work. Leisure is a substantial part of any person's normal life. Most people, or at least more people, come to their leisure less tired, with more energy to use than was formerly the case—though I sometimes wonder if that is true of the housewife. As leisure therefore comprises a large and growing proportion of most people's active life, there is all the more importance attached to the way it is used.

One requirement—it is a very important one, and one that has frequently been named and surely needs to be underlined all the time—is that leisure should be a matter for everyone's free choice. You cannot compel leisure or impose how it is to be used. It is a personal thing, an expression of individual talent and character and interests. But while you cannot impose the way in which people choose to spend their leisure, that does not mean that everything to do with leisure lies outside the business and responsibility of good government. A responsible society must be concerned that its people are given freedom of opportunity in the use they choose to make of their leisure. The concern and intention in this will be misdirected (and here I very much agree with what the noble Lord, Lord Willis, said in this respect) if at the back of it the object of making provision for leisure is evaluated in terms of greater production, although it is true to say that if people's leisure is satisfying it is likely that their work will be better. But the aim in any practical policy for leisure must ultimately lie in respect for the best interests of every citizen as a person and a free member of society.

The ingredients required for leisure are adequate time, adequate wealth and the incentive, inspiration and skill needed to put the opportunities given by time and wealth to good use. In this the responsibility of Government lies partly in the whole setting of the framework of society in which the nation's life is ordered. But there are certain particular points of special responsibility, one of which has been already underlined in this debate; namely, that of education where interests, a sense of purpose, an inquiring mind and good health may be promoted, as we all hope will be the case, in their homes. Secondly, more must be done in enabling the capital and personal equipment required—not necessarily in providing all of it, but almost essentially some of it—for a great variety of forms of leisure. As regards the latter, a great deal has been done, and is being done, through Government and voluntary agencies. But there are certain serious present gaps which can be filled only with Government planning and initiative. There are two of these which I should like to mention.

The first is vividly portrayed in the Newsom Report, which I believe is one of the most striking and valuable educational and social documents produced in recent years. I am thinking particularly of Chapter 3 entitled "Education in the Slums." It opens with a quotation from the work of Mr. J. B. Mays, who has devoted many years to the study of methods of social education in slum areas. I should like to quote from paragraph 52 of the Report. The Committee say this: We find many different kinds of social problems in close association: a high proportion of mental illness, high crime and delinquency rates; and above average figures for infant mortality, tuberculosis, child neglect, and cruelty. Here, too, the so-called problem families tend to congregate. Life in these localities appears to be confused and disorganised. In and about the squalid streets and narrow courts, along the landings and staircases of massive blocks of tenement flats which are slowly replacing the decayed terraces, outside garish pubs and trim betting shops, in the lights of coffee bars, cafés and chip saloons, the young people gather at night to follow with almost bored casualness the easy goals of group hedonism. These are the areas which we have left behind in the advance of our prosperity, in the redistribution of our nation's wealth and amenities. These are the areas where we have not invested our capital; the Newsom Report tells us that no less than 79 per cent. of the schools in these areas are grossly substandard, against a national average of only 40 per cent. These are the areas in which teachers do not stay, if they can get out—he few who stay long enough to realise a professional vocation there. And so these are the areas where the children do not stay at school either— not a day longer than Parliament compels them to; for here their education is so inevitably limited as to be powerless to enlarge their imagination. They are restricted more than other children, to the bare classroom subjects, with less time on practical subjects and physical education, simply because there are not the classrooms, the facilities and the teachers for them. As a training ground for leisure what can these schools do? Only one in eight among fourth-year pupils belong to any school clubs and societies; just one half of the number in secondary modern schools generally.

Let us recognise our obligation to these areas and resolve to meet it in terms of wider social, economic and housing policies, as well as in the educational reconstruction which Sir John Newsom and his Committee call us to. He asks for a hold rebuilding of schools—and it is interesting that he underlines that they should be small schools—in these areas, for such measures as will encourage more teachers to stay in them and to live in them, so sharing the community's life; for an interdepartmental working party to be set up to deal with the general social problems, including education, in slum areas.

Finally, let me quote him again on the very subject of this debate, leisure, in the context of these children. Here I quote from paragraph 72: We are clear that an adequate education cannot be given to boys and girls if it has to be confined to the slums in which they live. They, above all others, need access to the countryside, the experience of living to- gether in civilised and beautiful surroundings, and a chance to respond to the challenge of adventure. They need priority in relation to school journeys, overseas visits, and adventure courses. Clearly this is an educational matter, but it is not solely one. Children below school age, young workers, older people—the whole community—need to have a stake in something more than the streets in which they live. It is not simply a matter of facilities. Every educationist knows well enough that good results can obtain where the physical amenities and buildings are sub-standard, and how improvisation can be turned to positive advantage; but this is no argument for keeping them that way. It is just because it has been shown that good results can be achieved in these areas with inadequate facilities that we know that any priority given to these areas, in terms not only of buildings but of persons, will be amply justified.

THE EARL OF ARRAN

My Lords, if I may intervene, I wonder whether I understood the right reverend Prelate correctly. I think he was talking about school journeys and holidays in the country for children. Perhaps I may say —I am a prejudiced person, as chairman of the Children Country Holiday Fund —that we do send 6,000 children away to the country every year, and the results in terms of happiness are quite immeasurable.

THE LORD Bishop OF NORWICH

I thank the noble Earl for what he has said. It is very much in support of the direction which the Newsom Report recommends.

The second point I wish to make concerns the incentive or inspiration and the skill which are necessary to put leisure to creative use. In this country—it is not true of all countries—we believe in letting people enjoy their leisure in their own way, provided that in the process they are not being anti-social. There is a whole range of leisure of a simple kind which is shared by people of all kinds. When a felon's not engaged in his employment, Or maturing his felonious little plans, His capacity for innocent enjoyment Is just as great as any honest man's. Such studies as I have come across of the way people actually use their free time seem all to agree that leisure is, for most people, a home and family- centred affair. This appears in Mr. Ferdynand Zweig's study of workers in the more affluent motor industries, and others; it appears in some studies of Dr. A. R. Emerson of the University of Nottingham, and of Dr. Mark Abrams of Research Services. I quote two passages from Professor Abrams based upon a study made in the winter of 1962: Very broadly, it would seem that contemporary British home life is heavily concentrated on the traditional domestic activities. By and large, people at home are doing more comfortably and more spaciously what they have always done. Even in the middle of winter there is little time allocated to pursuits likely to exercise and satisfy any sense of craftsmanship or specialised intellectual activity. The one major addition to the traditional pattern is the large amount of time spent on watching television and listening to the radio. These already take up nearly one-quarter of all the average person's waking hours at home. At the week-end the proportion is even higher, and this suggests that, at least in the first instance, the provision of any additional time for home activities will be used largely to watch more television, especially if the supply of television programmes is also increased. His second passage describes activities outside the home: In general, then, one can say that, apart from the young, the British citizen in winter spends little time outside his home, and what time he does spend is very largely demanded by the necessity of working for a living and getting to work. These compulsions affect men much more than women. Only the young unmarrieds devote a majority of their waking hours to activities outside the home and there meet their fellow citizens on anything like an expansive scale outside the work situation. With marriage they return to the domestic hearth, and with old age they rarely leave it. The fact is that this domestic routine, centred more and more upon television, offers a great opportunity to the broadcasting corporations, and I know that they are already alive to it. The suggestion that television viewing encourages passivity is not, it appears, justified by the facts. The B.B.C. have made careful studies which go to show that television has drawn its viewers from other passive pursuits—not from active ones: from the cinema, from the pubs (if that can be described as a passive pursuit) and from sound radio.

There may, indeed, be programmes on television which invite no more than a passive response, but there are many more which do not. The B.B.C.'s Shakespeare cycle can draw 3 million viewers—many of whom would never have gone to a theatre to see Shakespeare. And is watching Shakespeare a merely passive experience? Or is seeing the dramatised version of a great novel, which many would never read for themselves? We know of the new and extensive interest created by television in archaeology, in wild life, in aquatic life; we know of real creative writing and of more and higher musical performance coming out of educational programmes, as well as more extensive and more selective reading. We know of the wide response to the "activities" programmes—motor-car servicing, dress-making, art, languages, keep-fit, which the B.B.C. put out with well-written publications to accompany the radio transmissions.

We have here a means of helping people into a more active and skilled, a more interesting, and therefore a more satisfying and more ennobling, use of leisure. One hopes that the broadcasting corporations will continue to present programmes which are imaginatively slanted to engage the participation of viewers in the variety of ways in which this can be done. Other agencies can help in the same way. The extramural departments of universities, the adult education committees of local education authorities, and that old and well-tried institution the Workers' Educational Association—all at hand, ready to work in concert with these educational and cultural programmes of the broadcasting authorities. Here I must express the hope that the Minister of Education will not hamper the progress of such bodies as the W.E.A. by freezing or by restricting their grants. They have a new rÔle to fill in our society and, with encouragement, I believe they can fill it.

My second reflection is on those significant words in my quotation from Dr. Mark Abrams, where he says that "apart from the young" the British citizen in winter spends little time outside his home. The young, quite properly, want to be up and out. It would be wholly unnatural if they were content to spend as much of their leisure time inside their homes as do their parents. They are the group, too—say from school-leaving to about 22—who are not watching television in great numbers. They have time, and they have money in their pockets. What incentive and inspiration is being offered them to turn these into leisure interests? The problem is especially acute in one particular area which I want to mention—the new housing areas where there are young people; and in those circumstances there is not always any traditional, established provision to help them.

Many of the larger post-war housing estates—I can think for instance of Leigh Park, near Portsmouth, or the New Towns, like Stevenage—when they were established were peopled, for the most part, by young marrieds with small children. There were few teenagers in any of them. Many of these towns—as, for instance, in the case of Stevenage—have been planning for the time, which is now upon them, when they would have a large teenage population. But in recent new housing extension and overspill development there are, in many cases, a number of teenagers among the families who first make their homes there. In so many cases the houses are built and the families go to live there without any sort of amenities available.

What I should wish to urge is that when any new housing area is being planned amenities for young people particularly should form an integral part of the initial buildings in the estate—not be an "extra" after the houses have been built up, and only then if there is enough money to go round. Otherwise, life in these communities gets off on the wrong foot and soon acquires a notoriety for teenage delinquency. The decrease of incidents of juvenile delinquency in Liverpool and Birmingham attributed to the interest teenagers