The Thirties: An Intimate History of Britain. Juliet Gardiner

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СКАЧАТЬ Tuesday, off Wednesday, work Thursday, off Friday, work Saturday. In this way the men could not claim any dole. They were taking home maybe three days’ pay — about £1 or 25/-. That was bad enough, but those on the dole were in an awful plight — 18/- for a man 6/- for a wife.’

      ‘The miners were always subject to a day or two days out. If they got four shifts a week they were lucky,’ recalled Clifford Steele, whose father was a miner at Grimethorpe colliery in South Yorkshire. ‘And then there were the odd occasions, perhaps in wintertime when coal was demanded, that they worked pretty regularly. It was the case of only a few hours’ notice. If a man was on day shift starting at six in the morning he had to be hanging about at night to see whether the pit buzzer went. If the pit buzzer went at half past eight it meant that there was no work the following day. So it was a case of don’t put me snap [packed lunch] up Mother.’

      However, in industries where demand fluctuated but was generally depressed, part-time work could act in the interests of both employer and employee. A study of the workings of British industry between the wars has shown that in the harsh market conditions of the 1930s in the iron and steel industry it became imperative for over-capitalised firms to secure orders ‘at any price simply to provide sufficient cash flow for their creditors’. Short-time working meant that skilled men were kept on the firm’s books in case an order came in, and if this was on a regular basis ‘the sequence of idle days almost invariably enables the workers to qualify for Unemployment Benefit’. This suited the employers, since it allowed them flexibility and a team of experienced workers. And the employees knew that if it didn’t suit them, there were plenty of unemployed men eager to take their place.

      A similar situation affected women workers. As a Macclesfield Silk Trade Association member explained to a Board of Trade inquiry: ‘Trade … was slack … It went up and down — and the married women thought it wasn’t fair that they should be put on the dole when work was found for the girls. The boss … tried to explain. “My girls will go where there’s work,” he told them, “and they won’t come back when things improve and I’ll lose them. They’ll find work in another mill. Besides there’s only one wage going in with a girl.” But he took no notice that many of the men were on short time or the labour [i.e. receiving benefit] too, as well as their wives.’

      In the crisis year of 1931, the Ministry of Labour became concerned that payment of benefit for short-time working was ‘one of the abuses of the present system’. However, an inquiry into the iron and steel trades revealed that most — though not all — employers believed that 80 per cent of short-time workers needed benefit payments in order to survive. As one employer put it: ‘We know all our men and their domestic circumstances, and but for the “dole,” they would be physically unable to do their work when there is any for them.’ Overall it seemed that only about 15 to 20 per cent of the men normally employed in the industry ‘would not be reduced to “needy” circumstances if unemployment pay is not granted’ — presumably these men were members of the small aristocracy of affluent skilled labour, for differentials in the industry were very wide.

      Far from suggesting that short-time workers were abusing the system by drawing benefit, the employers argued that if benefit was not allowed, there would be no sense in a man being prepared to work three days a week: he would be better off not working at all and drawing a full week’s benefit. The government took the point, and the system continued. One effect, however, was to further disadvantage the ‘hard kernel’ of long-term unemployed, since there was always a reserve pool of short-time labour when an industry began to recover, and it was these men who stood to benefit, since there was little incentive to offer work to those who had been out of the labour market for some time, and whose skills and efficiency might be thought to have diminished. And so the curse was handed down. The sons of men already employed in an industry were much more likely to be offered apprenticeships or training schemes in that industry than other boys. If a boy started work in the same insured industry as his father, both would be eligible for unemployment benefit as of right, regardless of family circumstances. That was not the case for an unemployed youth, nor indeed, more perniciously, for the unemployed father of an employed youth following the introduction of the much-loathed Means Test.

      As part of the swingeing austerity package of 1931, which also raised contributions while cutting benefits, unemployment benefit could in future only be drawn as of right for six months: after that, those still out of work and requiring support had to apply for ‘transitional payments’ paid through the Labour Exchange. Before this was granted, they had to undergo a household means test carried out by the local PAC. The Committee would inform the Labour Exchange of the applicant’s circumstances, and the rate of relief he should receive was assessed. In arriving at this figure all forms of household income were taken into consideration. These included any pensions or savings, any money coming into the house from a working son or daughter, even household possessions. The maximum amount which an adult male could receive before losing his entitlement to benefit was 15s.3d a week.

      The fact that the total income of a family was assessed led to much bitterness, and sometimes family break-up. ‘The Act drove many more young men and women away from home than anything else, because if you had a son working, and the father was out of work, the son was made to keep him,’ explained a Welsh miner. ‘It was one of the reasons why so many left [the Valleys] for London or the Midlands.’

      Various ruses were thought up to get round this deprivation: a working child might leave home and go to live with a relative or in lodgings so that the parent would qualify for benefit. Or he or she might remain at home, but cram into an outhouse or a shed on the allotment when the Public Assistance officer was expected. Stanley Iveson, a mill worker in Nelson in Lancashire, a textile town with high unemployment, recalls the effect of the Means Test there: ‘In 1931 when people were being knocked off the dole, there was a big building across [the street] … it was a model lodging house. And … lads used to go and sleep there, during the week … It was a shilling a night. So they were able to draw the dole. But they went home for their meals. And it broke up homes in those days.’

      In Dowlais in South Wales Beatrice Wood’s father was an unemployed miner, but her brother had a job. The Means Test

      meant that everybody working had to keep their parents … there was a lot of friction between fathers and sons because the boys resented keeping their parents. We tried to live an honest life, we really tried, but … the Government was making honest people dishonest because of their rules. The Means Test man would come often, asking the same question. So we devised a plan with the help of my mother’s friend. We would say my brother was living with them. It didn’t matter to them because her husband was working. My mother didn’t like doing it, but we had to in order to live — if you could call it living. There was a lot of people doing it. The trouble was, my brother couldn’t be seen in our house because he wasn’t supposed to be living there. The Means Test man came when you least expected him. Sometimes he would call just as my brother had come in from work. He would be eating his food and if there would be a knock on the door there would be one mad rush to get the food off the table (because we only had one room) before we opened the door, and my brother would have to hide in the pantry … and stay there until [the Means Test man] had gone. The Means Test man came one day when my brother was bathing in front of the fire in a tub. Well. My brother jumped out of the tub wet and naked and went into the pantry to hide. We didn’t have time to take the tub out, so my mother, resilient as ever, caught hold of our dog and plunged him into the tub, pretending she was bathing the dog. My brother was freezing in the pantry. When we opened the door to let the Means Test man in, the dog jumped out of the tub and shook himself all over the Means Test man. It took all my powers not to laugh, because it was like a comic strip if it wasn’t so serious … Those Means Test men were horrible men, and very arrogant. They would sometimes lift up the latch and just walk in. So my mother went one better — she kept the door locked. They weren’t above looking through your window. I was always told that your home was your castle. But not us — we might as well be living in a field: we had no privacy — this was the dreaded nineteen thirties. СКАЧАТЬ