Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Living with Mental Illness by Enid Mills, Pp. xii + 184. Institute of
Community Studies/Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1962,
28s.
Miss Mills' survey concerns eighty-six patients fixmi a certain 'area in
East London' (which we are asked to leave un-named) who were admitted
to mental hospital in 1956 and 1957. She deals with the events and problems
which led up to their admission to hospital; the actual mechanics <rf admis-
sion; the nature of the community services to whose care many of them
returned; and with their difficulties, and those of their families, after dis-
charge.
The picture is a distressing one. The process of becwning ill enough to
be attonitted to a mental hospital is seen as 'a confused, slow and clumsy
process which may reach a sudden and bewildering climax'. Mental health
workers were overworked, insensitive, and sometimes callous. Only rarely
did patients and their relatives have any clear idea of the nature of the
problem, or of the measures which were being taken to deal with it. A
number of the patients entered the hospital 'voluntarily'—^but investigation
indicated that they had been led to do so by means of 'deception or threats'.
There is, for example, the case of Mr. Atterbury, who 'was led to believe
that he was going into a convalescent home' till 'at the front door, he noticed
the word "Asylum" carved into the stone'.
'At what cost does a family continue to care for a mentally sick relative?'
Now that the emphasis in the Mental Health Services is moving to com-
munity care, this question is a vital one. Miss Mills answers it with a
catalogue of despair—of bewilderment, fear, physical and mental exhaustion
and often social ostracism. She notes that, on the whole, families with a
mentally sick member were worse housed than other families—largely
because complaints of 'fire, flooding and gas, hangings and noise during the
night, and bad language and paranoic accusations during the day* had
caused the Housing Authority to move them to substandard acccMnmoda-
tion.
The social services provided little support. Only four patients out of
eighty-six were in touch with the L.C.C. psychiatric care service. Other
services were under-staffed, fragmentary, and poorly-co-ordinated. The
greatest degree <rf support came not from professional social workers, but
from the people whom Mis& Mills calls 'the Cognoscenti'—the local publican,
the secretary of a darts dub, someone with a little more knowledge and a
little more organising ability than the average. Home helps were commonly
accepted, and provided 'down to eardi common-seme'. By contrast, 'pro-
fessionally trained social workers from a different social class were often
received with hostility'.
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Much of what Miss Mills has to say has the stamp o£ authenticity; but
it is unfortimaite that she weakens her case by over-emphasis. It is hard to
believe that there were no sympathetic and sensible social wcwkers in the
area. One would have thought that the presence of the Institute of Community
Studies would have had some effect in raising the standard of provision
by now.
The material is taken very largely from patients and their relatives, and
no attempt at validation appears to have been made. Since some of the
patients were sufferii^ from pananoira, and others from d^ression, it would
have been a basic precaution to chedc the objective value of statements with
the medical records or the responsible psychiatrist.
Miss Mills makes no attempt to study the administrative problems of
mental hospitals or of local authority services. She has a passionate identi-
fication with her eight-six patients, and an apparent lack of sympathy for
doctors and niirses and social workers, whom she tends to see as the agents
of indifferent Authority.
This is essentially a small-scale piece of empirical research, unrelated to
any iwevious work, or to any general concepts in this field. Previous reports
from the Institute of Community Studies have provided a good deal of in-
formation about this 'area in East London', and indicate that it has a distina
sub-culture of its own. It is a pity that more reference could not have been
made to these studies, since the symptomatology, if not the aetiology, of
mental illness is culturally conditioned.
Miss Mills is a sensitive and humane observer; but sensitivity and a
strong social conscience are just not enough to produce a soumi piece of
research. At several points, her conclusions go beyond her evidence—
there is one particularly sweeping statement on the policy of mental hos-
pitals which seems to be based solely on interviews with the twenty patients
who were not discharged by the time the survey took place. A more system-
atic and objective appraisal would have produced less sensational material;
but it would have given a firmer basis for argmnent.
University of Manchester. KATHLEEN JONES.
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The Clerk in Industry by J. R. Dale. Pp. n 8 . Liverpool University
Press, 1962, 25s.
This is a useful descriptive study of a particular cat^ory of clerks about
whidi little has so far been known. It uses a variety <rf sources, but is based
predfflninantly on interviews with 208 male clerks in five companies in
different parts (rf the country. The author covers a number of topics of
interest to the sociologist in general as well as discussing in detail the more
practical problems of education and training. The two chapters dealing with
job experience, social origin and social status have perhaps the widest rele-
vance, containing as they do not only an analysis of the actual job histories
<rf the clerks analysed but an attempt to assess their attitude to clerical work.
There is, for example, material OTI their reasons for becoming a clerk which
reveals how oftra, clerical work, for the male entrant, is only a 'second best'.
Of particular interest is the findings that only 3.2% of the clerks interviewed
would choose clerical work for iheir sons, although 18.8% said that they
would choose a trade. The material on education background is also of
interest, for, although over half went to a grammar school, only 27 %
possessed an adequate general certificate of education.
Sociologists studying clerks have always been interested in white collar
unionism and Air. Dale has included a chapter on attitudes to what he calls
'combination and consultation'. It c(»nes as no surprise, in view of the low
union membership of industrial clerks, to find that 87.5% of those he
interviewed were not, and had never been, members <rf a trade union. Mr.
Dale convincingly suggests, however, that this low level <rf membership is
the result of apathy and lack of interest rather dian any considerable body
of opinicm hostile to white collar unionism in principle.
The chapters on qualifications, training, and education cwnprise a good
deal (rf the book and it is clear that these are matters on which the author
feels strongly. Certainly the general picture is a discouraging one, revealing
as it does considerable waste and frustration. A high proportion of the clerks
interviewed had tried to achieve some sort <rf pr(rfessional qualification for
purposes of pr(Hnotion but this effort had in the majority of cases, beai
frustrated, either because the exMnination was not taken or was failed. It
is true that many of those who did succeed were probably no longer clerks
so that Mr. Dale's universe, containing as it inevitably does, all those still
trying for promotion, and all those who have failed to get it, but not those
who have succeeded, will be rather more depressing than the reality. Never-
theless, the record of failure and frustration is an impressive one. Nor, as the
author shows, is this necessarily due to any fault in the students themselves,
fOT- education for c(Mnmerce is stiU almost entirely in the part-time evening
study stage, with all its hazards for the would-be student. Nor lave the
firms themselves given much thought to the actual training of their derks,
who are still taught 'on the job'.
Although this b(K>k is about the male clerk the author is well aware of the
significance for his status and j<^ oi^Kutunity of mechanisation in <^ces
and the scope this offers for the transfer (rf routine tasks to rdatively un-
called female labour. Nevertheless, he does not anticipate that the male
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clerk will disappear: rather, that with increasing mechanisation, women will
take over even more <rf the routine chores, leaving men to take over the
'many clerical positions which demand long experience and continuity of
service'. The implications of this tendency is that the male clerk will tend
to become mwe, radier than less skilled and will need more, rather than
less qualifications. As the author puts it, 'in the industrial office there is
likely to be no room at all for the male clerk of very limited ability and low
productivity'.
The clerk has for long been a significant figure in sodol<^ical literature
by reason of his marginal position between the middle and the working
classes. Yet, for some reason, there have been few att«npts by sociologists
to make a really determined effort to study this interesting social and oc-
cupational group. It is to be hoped that Mr. Dale's venture will encourage
others to follow.
University of Liverpool. OLIVE BANKS.
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Married Women Working by Pearl Jephcott, with Nancy Seear and
John H. Smith. Pp. 208. Allen and Unwin, London, 1962, 35s.
In Britain today just over half of all female employees are married, ann-
pared with about a fifth at the turn of the century. Economic expansion and
full employment have increased the demand for female labour at a time
when the numbers of single women available continue to decline. In face
of this increase in the employment of married wranenj it is astonishing how
conroversial an issue it still remains as to whether married wcanen—and
particularly those with dependant children—should wantj be allowed, be
encouraged (the words should fit the prejudice) to leave home.
One of the purposes of the research of Miss Jephcott and her colleagues
was to find out the consequences for family life where the mother goes out
to work. The area selected for stiuly was Bermondseyj a solidly working-
class dockland borough on the south side of the Thames. It is a borough
which has been noted for many years not only for its poverty and the
troubled employment history associated with any area where casual labour
is common, but also for its respectability and strong local pride. Studied
by Charles Booth in the nineteenth century, and later adopted by a series
of social workers and reformers, its social history is well-documented. The
authors have drawn on this store of knowledge from the past and it is this,
plus their intimate knowledge of the present Bermondsey—^Miss Jephcott
herself has lived in the borough for some years—which adds colour and
substance to this report.
Although the employment of married women has so dramatically increased
in the country as a whole, it is by no means a recent phencanenon in
Bermondsey. Because <rf its closeness to the centre of I^ndon, because of
the long history of uncertain employment amongst their menfolk, it has
been both possible and necessary for many years for married women to
work outside the home. What is interesting therefore in this particular
district is not the effect of a sudden social change (a mass exodus from
home to factory); it is rather the adaptation of an established tradition in a
changing social situation—improved housing, smaller families, higher stan-
dards of childcare, and full employment. On the whole the findings of the
research are very reassuring. So much so, indeed, that the writers seem
at one or two points to strain to find a darker side. For example, they go
to some trouble to seek out a correlation between mothers at work and
children in court but, as they themselves point out, the evidence is. far
from conclusive. It also, in fact, somewhat conflicts with an earlier impression
in the botA that the mothers who work were amongst the more energetic
and cOTni)etent.
The authors suggest that the stability of the area, the tradition oi mothers
working, the availability of part-time work close by, and so on, tnay all
have helped to minimise the risks and strains so often associated with the
mother's absence from home. Other research on the subjea in very different
areas has, however, similarly found no evidence oi harmful consequences.
Of course there may be adverse effects as yet undiscovered—one can only
say at present that there is no indication that families stjffer in serious
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ways when wives work—and one would like to see more research, perhaps
in a new town, along similar lines to explore this further. One wonders,
for example, what the lor^-tcrm effects on w<Mnen's health might be, for
in Bermondsey, at any rate, there is little doubt that tiie dual rSle demands
a good deal of physical and mental effort. But even here there would be
great difficulties in disentangling and measuring results, as might be illustrated
by the quotation from an essay by a 14 year old Bermondsey girl: 'My own
mother recently took up a part-time job and I find that although she often
feels tired and needs more help, she is much happier and has more interesting
things to say'.
Other aspects one would like to see explored more thoroughly in future
enquiries are the differing effects on women's family lives of their doing
part-time work as against full-time, and more detailed study amongst that
minority of women who start work when their children are below school
age.
As well as its comprehensive and intensive research into family life in
Bermondsey today, the study also covers—and with similar thoroughness—
the employers' problems in using married women. Peek Frean's, the firm
on which this aspect of the enquiry is based, has, so the authors write 'the
reputation of being progressive, and . . . certainly tended to be experimental
in both its technical and its personnel policy'. The speed with which it has
radically departed from traditional employment policy towards the married
woman worker suggests as much. In pre-war days no married women at all
were employed by the firm; by the middle fifties 82 per cent of women
employees were married. What is more, nearly half of all operatives were
engaged on a part-time basis, and numerous adjustments (in terms of hours)
and concessions (in terms of permitted absence) had been made as part of
the firm's attempt to meet the domestic needs of its married women em-
ployees. Of course, none of these changes have come about without difficulties
for management; but by and large they seem to have been worthwhile.
These are only one or two of the main strands in the fabric of this closely
woven and richly rewarding book. It is a pity that the swnewhat confusing
tables do not contribute as much as they could to an otherwise excellent
research report.
Institute of Community Studies. PHYLLIS WILLMOTT
Cambridge. T. H. MARSHALL,
Social Life and Cultural Change by Don Maitindale, Pp, xii -|- 528.
Van Nostrandj 1962, 70s,
The interpretation of sodal and cultural diange is a field in which socio-
logists, historians, and critics are necessarily concerned. The problems are
so difikult that we ought to keep an open mind about the value of disciplines
not our own, which t^er to work here. It has been very interesting for me
to read and think about Professor Martindale's study. He <^ers to rescue
the theory of social and cultural change from the comparative disrepute
into which it appears to have fallen in the social sciences. He advances a
number of theoretical propositions, and tests them with case studies. Enough
of my own work has been in a comparable field, t h o u ^ following different
disciplines, to make the book alive for me, but of course I cannot claim to
review it from any but my own points of view.
Martindale begins by analysing the professional suspicions of any compara-
tive study of society and civilisation. He argues that the collapse of early
f^ms oi prc^ess theory, and in particular of unlinear evolutionism, left com-
parative studies (rf social and cultural change in a disreputable mess, since
the ordinary purpose of these studies had been to prove one or other of
these schemes. The same point is true, he argues, of the many popular
cyclical theories, and the studies supporting them. A more self-conscious
and scientific sociology, on the other hand, has producd only three major
approaches lo the matta-, none of them satisfactory. These are the culture-
lag theory, which he sees as breaking down, in any wide field, because of
its distinction between material and non-material culture; the o r ^ n i c cyclical
theory, which he sees as determined and distorted by moral and ethical pro-
grammes, allowing bias in the selection of evidence; and the intrusive dis^
turbance theory of the functionalists, which has proved very limited in its
description of actual change.
Martindale then outlines a social behaviouristic theory of change. Three
areas are defined: the establishment of groups and institutions; the formation
of cranmunities; and the synthesis of civilizations His book is mainly ain-
cemed witb the formation of commimities, since this process requires the
reconstruction of first-ord«r groiq>s and instituti<ms, and its crystallisation is
normally the essential agent of the synthesis of a civilisation. The intellectuals,
as a group, are given special attention because they occupy a strategic rdle
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in the integration of conmiunities, though they are not the sole creators, and
because they are again prominent in the subsequent syn'diesis oi a civilisation.
Four hypotheses are then offered:
(i) that the periods of formation of new cwnmunities are man's creative
epochs;
(ii) that the quality and quantity of creativity are related to Ihe type of
coimnunity in each case, and in general have been highest in the
creation of the more complex axnmimities;
(iii) that in the maturity <rf a community free creativity declines, and in-
tellectual forms becmne restricted;
(iv) that in creative periods truth is tested by standards arising from the
creative process itself, while in conformist periods it is tested by its
degree of acceptability to established institutions.
I have no doubt that these theoretical propositions are useful, though I
find them unsurprising The major problems seem to me still concealed
within the forms of the hypotheses. What criteria, for example, do we use
to distinguish a period of ccMnmunity formatitm from a period of maturity,
unless we use the evidence of the rise or fall of creativity whidi in fact
we are trying to eiqjlain? As Martindale turned to bis test cases, I watched
with considerable interest.
His first four cases are of andent sodeties: in China, India, Palestine
and Greece, Martindale fulfils his hypotheses, but I can say no more than
that, I have seen (as Martindale has seen elsewhere) bow easy it is to make
a sdxeme fr«n facts imperfecdy known, I mean no disrespect to Martin-
dale when I find my critical training reminding me that studies of this
kind must be to a considerable extent external. I don't mean that they
shouldn't be tried, but when I think oi what is involved I hesitate to
imderwrite them. In the only case of which I have some limited knowledge,
that of the Greek dramatists, I can say that I found. Martindale's
brief account depressingly reminiscent of the worst kind oi external
literary history. To explain change at that level of generalisation has
never been difficult 'Sophistication—Eurijades' has been a tag for
generatiwis, but I find as I read the plays that it leaves the major questions
unanswered. A sophistication from what? From *a ratiwialization of the
old semi-religious conceptualisations , . . (Aeschylus and Sophodes)'. but
then to bracket Aeschylus and Sophodes seems to me to an odd ear for
change. And 'semi-religious conceptualisations'? The Oresteja} I suspect
that if I knew much of China, Palestine and India I should be arguing like
this all the way. It isn't that Martindale's hypotheses seem wrong; it's that
they don't, for me, engage anything like dosely enough.
TTie problem about community formation and maturity came up with
particular difficulty in Martindale's last case: Humanists and Sdentists in
the Western World. I can speak tmly of E n g i i ^ culture, but I can see that
two <rf our most brilliant literary periods (Elizabethan and Romantic) could
be interpreted as periods of c«nmunity formation, and I am interested in
the possibility that periods <rf literary and sdendfic creativity may actually
have alternated. But in this way I am away from Martindale, I do not indeed
understand whether he w i ^ e s us to take modem Western society (since
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the Renaissance) as one period or several of (XKnmxmity fonnati<Mi. It seems,
on the w*ole, one period, as he describes it, but by the time that has been
said I find all the questions of social and cultural change that I know any-
thing about swallowed up in a single movement. I was thinking about
1750-1780 as a period of maturity and rigidity, or as at least a period <rf
quiet. I was thinking about 1880-1930 as a period trf creativity, but what
community was then being formed? I confess I find my own jargon
of new problems and consequent tensions more immediately useful^ but
I would like to see it set down, point by point, with Martindale's hypotheses,
to find out if it is only the scale and generality <rf his accoimt which is a
diifercnce between us. If he would accept the history of England since
the Industrial Revolution as in his sense a period of community formation
(it seems to me to answCT his criteria) a genuine confluence might be possible.
Yet I suspect we would diifer, even then, about the point of maturity now
reached, since the Industrial Revolution or even since the Renaissance. He
shows a fine professional contempt for any valuing history, and this I don't
mind: there must be both kinds about. But on his own ground I don't
think he has supplied any objective tests of formation and maturity by which
we might decide where we now are. His remarks on the present are lame
and sketchy, taking evidence from the anti-utopias and s(Hne problems of
American civilisation (die academic problem takes on a sudden panicularity,
and engagement of emotion, that is interesting by comparison with the rest
of the book). There is perhaps even a hint of unconscious cyclical theory.
The 'instrumentalism' of science and the 'growth of mass institutions', which
I suppose were agents of our kind of community formation, are seen as
threatening the humanism which has sought to integrate the civilisation. I
don't know about valuing histories, but I am impressed by the regularity
with which that valuing pattern recurs, in men claiming objectivity. I
wonder even whether the formulations of 'ccmimunity formation-creativity'
and 'maturity-rigidity' are themselves rationalisations of a present and im-
explored tension.
But then in these matters I am a critic and not a sociologist. My imper-
tinences can be assigned to the inter-disciplinary war. Except that I don't
think there is really any need for war. If sociologists, historians and critics
can accept diat they will often be working on the same material, and that
different approaches may be necessary to illuminate its genuine cmnplexity,
then we can go profitably on heaping up our mistakes and letting others
expose them, with an essential charity. I am grateful to Professor Martin-
dale for this (^portunity of a peaceful collision with a non-valuing sociol-
logist. There will no doubt be many more opportunities.
Jesus College, Cambridge. RAYMOND WILLIAMS
367