Education, parenting and concepts of childhood in England, c. 1945 to c. 1979

Abstract Both education and parenting became increasingly ‘child-centred’, or ‘progressive’, in post-war England. This article contends that the impact of this shift for concepts of childhood, and for children themselves, was equivocal. Progressive methods were physically and emotionally demanding for both teachers and parents, and popularised versions of developmental psychology and psychoanalysis shaped a limiting concept of the child. This article also suggests, in line with recent work by Thomson and Shapira, that changing concepts of childhood map democratic selfhood because the capabilities that children lacked were those that must be possessed by the adult citizen. By exploring how children were defined in relation to adults, and how adults’ needs were increasingly subordinated to those of the child, this article also begins to question how we might usefully use age as a ‘category of historical analysis’.


Introduction
Progressive, or 'child-centred' , education became the dominant orthodoxy in English primary and secondary modern schools in the post-war period. 1 In brief, this new pedagogy aimed to provide a more interactive education that was suited to the needs of the developing child, rather than teaching children a predetermined syllabus. 2 In the 1950s and 1960s, fashions in parenting advice also changed markedly. In parenting manuals and in talks aimed at parents in parent-teacher associations, local parenting groups and radio broadcasts, parents were also advised to take a more child-centred attitude to the upbringing of their offspring, shaping their care around the particular requirements of their infant rather than following a rigid behaviourist timetable. The bond between mother and child assumed greater psychological significance than ever before. This shift could be read as broadly positive for children both in school and at home, with the definition of psychological normality expanding to encompass a broader definition of the child's needs. 3 However, with the exception of Angela Davis's and Laura King's recent monographs, there has been little sustained historical attention paid to how parents and teachers reacted to child-centred models. 4 This article will contend that neither progressive education nor progressive parenting, underwritten by developmental psychology and by psychoanalysis, re-imagined childhood in such a straightforwardly positive way as earlier historiography has implied. Developmental psychology focused on the minimal capabilities of the child in comparison with the adult, putting forward an image of mature adulthood that was defined relationally against immature childhood. In parenting advice, this model was combined with psychoanalytical analysis of the child's inner world that further underlined his or her otherness from adults. These discourses artificially emphasised normal children's egotism, aggression and irrationality, suggesting to the casual reader that normal adulthood was free of such flaws and that children were incapable of altruism, kindness and formal reasoning.
These theoretical models also presented practical challenges. By relying heavily on psychological and psychoanalytical expertise, progressivism undermined the traditional claims to authority made by both parents and teachers, leading mothers to rely more upon external experts, and teachers to feel that their professional authority was under threat. Progressive parenting also demanded more from parents, especially mothers, than traditional advice, while pressures on primary school teachers, who were predominantly female, also increased. The prescription that mothers should subsume their own needs to those of their children, alongside increased public focus on, and criticism of, parents' skills, may have contributed to the popular sense that the post-war generation was both uniquely privileged and ungrateful. 5 Child-centred discourse suggested that children's limited cognitive, emotional and social development left them naturally unable to understand the needs of others; some parents and teachers flipped this rhetoric to suggest that it was child-centred caregiving itself that was making children selfish. While seemingly accepting the new psychological dogmas about children's limited capacities, caregivers still suggested that child-centred practice exacerbated rather than ameliorated the problem.
As children spent the vast majority of their time at school or at home, especially as their freedom to roam shrank towards the end of this period, it makes sense to consider changing concepts of childhood in educational and domestic settings in tandem. 6 Teachers played a part in the dissemination of psychological ideas about childhood to parents, principally at parents' evenings and through parent-teacher associations, but these two case studies are also linked by the substantial group of female teachers who had children of their own. By 1967, around half of all teachers in maintained schools were married women, linking to the wider trend of married women in the workplace in post-war England. 7 Similarly, the majority of female primary school teachers hailed from working-class backgrounds. 8 Like other mothers, post-war married women teachers tended to take a career break when they had children, returning to teaching when their children were older; this career pattern was so common among female teachers that 'married women returners' were a recognised phenomenon in official discourse about teacher supply by the 1960s. 9 many male teachers, of course, were also fathers, but unlike the majority of female teachers, their career trajectories were not usually defined by whether or not they were parents. This article will draw upon a wide range of sources to consider how experiences of child-centred parenting and teaching affected broader concepts of childhood. The progressive discourses on childhood available to both teachers and parents will be examined through best-selling parenting and teaching manuals, the popular teaching journals Teachers [sic] World, The Schoolmaster and Woman Teacher's Chronicle (the Teacher from 1963) and the Times Educational Supplement, and government reports on education, and contrasted with the original arguments of the works of developmental psychologists such as Jean Piaget, and psychoanalysts such as melanie Klein. For teachers' and parents' actual experiences, I will use three oral history archives: the Wartime Evacuation Project (WEP), led by Philip Gardner and Peter Cunningham; the archive maintained by the oxfordshire History Centre; and a set of 10 oral history interviews that I conducted in oxfordshire which were explicitly concerned with exploring how parenthood affected both teachers' concepts of childhood and their relationship to their pupils, alongside 15 qualitative questionnaires. 10 In these oral history interviews, teachers' memories of parenting young children and of their own career trajectories are inevitably influenced by their later experiences. However, by considering how motherhood sits within female teachers' accounts of their careers, I am less interested in the accuracy of their memories than the professional significance they placed on having children of their own. This reflects the work of other oral historians on gendered memory; for example, Penny Summerfield has explored how women forgot or minimised those elements of their war work that did not fit into public narratives of commemoration. 11 more broadly, it has been suggested that women are socialised to remember relationally, to fit their own stories into networks that reflect the most important relationships in their lives, whereas men tend to tell stories where they are the only important actor, which suggests why female teachers tended to connect their public and private lives in a way that male teachers did not. 12 By using contemporary psychological and sociological studies such as the work of John and Elizabeth newson, on parenting, and Patricia Sikes, on teachers' experiences of parenthood, I will also be able to consider how these experiences were framed by women at the time. 13 Finally, as this summary indicates, I will be drawing to some extent on a case study of oxfordshire and the City of oxford, two local education authorities historically known for their progressive practice. 14 However, wider consideration of oxfordshire within national context has demonstrated, firstly, that its progressive reputation may have been overstated; and, secondly, that local concerns were mirrored across England, indicating that it is to some degree representative of contemporary educational trends. 15 The task of English primary schools was shaped in this period by two crucial national developments: the 1944 Education Act, which established the tripartite system of secondary education, and the 1967 Plowden report, which both summarised the swing towards child-centred methods in primary schools since the 1931 Hadow report and suggested how this trend should be extended and consolidated through increased educational expenditure, especially in 'educational priority areas' , and restructuring the current age divisions in schools to better fit children's psychological development. 16 In the context of this article, the most significant impact of the 1944 legislation on primary schools was to focus their purpose solely on the needs of the under-12s; separate secondary education for all adolescents was seen as necessary because of the growing belief-influentially expressed by Hadow in 1931-that their educational needs fundamentally differed from those of younger children. This recommendation was gradually, but decisively, put into practice; Plowden noted approvingly that while 35 per cent of schools were all-age in 1949, this dropped to 12 per cent in 1955 and stood at only 1 per cent in 1965. 17 Even in smaller rural schools that remained all-age, logbook evidence indicates that after the Second World War, headteachers became more concerned to maintain a juniorsenior divide, to ensure that teachers had some experience of teaching the age group that they worked with, and to avoid large age ranges within a single classroom. 18 These institutional changes hence consolidated the developmental psychological view of childhood, by suggesting that there were absolute differences between different age groups, and that the school system should be structured around this basic fact. 19 Historians and sociologists have recently begun to pay enthusiastic attention to the idea that age, like gender, can be a 'useful category of historical analysis' . 20 But theoretical discussions of this concept have often been limited, and there is a dearth of work that attempts to put these claims into practice. 21 For example, Lynn Botelho's recent article, which issues a 'call to arms' for the establishment of this category, actually asks for little more than a greater focus on the experience of ageing. 22 This article aims to highlight a crucial aspect of the category that cannot be neglected if it is to be used effectively: the fact that age, like gender, is essentially relational. Historians have tended to analyse childhood, adolescence and old age in isolation, while paying almost no attention to mature adulthood. 23 The concepts of childhood influenced by psychoanalysis and developmental psychology were not constructed in a vacuum; indeed, they were explicitly defined against the presumed capabilities of adults, at a time when what was required of an adult citizen was changing. michal Shapira has recently suggested that the experience of 'total war' from 1939 to 1945 shaped a new understanding of selfhood that focused on the disjuncture between the 'war inside' and the outward needs of the democratic self to adapt to society. Central to this, she argues, was a new psychoanalytically influenced understanding of childhood, and the mother-child bond. 24 While the war was not a turning point for concepts of older children and adolescents in the education system, Shapira's work indicates that it exerted greater influence on images of infancy and early childhood. The argument that a shift in concepts of childhood linked to a shift in concepts of selfhood in mid-twentieth-century Britain is also made by mathew Thomson. Thomson argues that the ideal of the democratic citizen affected the image of the school-aged child and adolescent from the late 1940s onwards, placing greater emphasis on sociability and community spirit. 25 Shapira's assertion that it was the psychoanalytical 'idea that democracy requires maturity and a certain level of mental stability stemming out of healthy childhood' that reshaped selfhood appears initially to be in conflict with this argument, as well as postulating an alternative chronology to Thomson. 26 However, these two explorations of the origins of the idea of democratic selfhood in concepts of childhood can be brought into harmony if we consider the influence wrought by images of the baby and young child in progressive educational practice. Child-centred education promoted a limited, and potentially self-centred, image of the junior-aged child. This reflects the aggressive and destructive image of the younger child promoted by psychoanalysis, augmenting the idea that children as a whole-not merely the under-fives-were separated from adults by their emotional and social immaturity. A 'normal' childhood was increasingly defined by its difference from a 'normal' adulthood, which in its turn was shaped by the requirements of social democracy.

The 'child-centred' child
In order to explain how children differed from adults, developmental psychologists and psychoanalysts had to make-often empirically unsubstantiated-assertions about adulthood. 27 Jean Piaget's influential schemas for staging children's cognitive, social and moral development made presuppositions about the mature mind, despite the fact that he did no empirical research with adults. By the age of 15, he asserted in his work with Bärbel Inhelder, adolescents could handle 'propositional' or 'formal' logic, allowing them to practice deductive or experimental reasoning, 'analyse [their] own thinking and construct theories' and adopt ideals, preparing them for the achievement of full adulthood. 28 His earlier work on moral development argued that the fully developed mind tempered a desire for equality with a concern for individual circumstances, and valued forgiveness above punishment for wrongs. 29 In contrast to this idealised version of adulthood, the child was restricted by his or her chronological age. The assertion in post-war texts that young children were incapable of true empathy or co-operation implicitly contrasted the child with the adult citizen, who was capable of a collectivist outlook. Similarly, melanie Klein considered how the infant psyche differed from the integrated adult mind, painting a bleak picture of violence and fear. 30 In this section, we will consider two theoretical concepts about childhood, and how they were distorted and simplified when translated into more popular contexts: the idea of the 'egotistic' child and the psychoanalytical depiction of the inner worlds of children. Both Piaget and Klein described the young child as 'egotistic' , a phrase which became a common point of confusion in both parenting manuals and teaching journals. Klein's theories about the ego and 'egotism' were not meant to be read in moralistic terms; in The Psychoanalysis of Children (1932), she argued, like Sigmund Freud, that a young child is inevitably 'narcissistic' because his or her ego is not fully developed. 31 The child is forced to be narcissistic in order to project the 'death instinct' outwards on to other objects, which results, as Klein wrote in her later text Envy and Gratitude (1957), in envy, which is expressed in the child's first object relation, to the breast, and leads to the child's destructive feelings towards the mother. 32 While this led to her dark view of the infant psyche, this schema made no moral judgement about the child's narcissism, and, indeed, implied that all children, however they were handled by their parents, had to go through this phase. This preserved the clear distinction between the integrated psyche of the adult and the undeveloped ego (and superego) of the child, but removed the idea of innately selfish small children.
Piaget's work on the 'egoism' of the child adopted a similar viewpoint. The 'egocentric' child was a term he first used in The Language and Thought of the Child (1923, trans. 1926), arguing that the 'egocentric stage' began to diminish around the age of seven. 33 He expanded upon the idea in The Child's Conception of the World (1926, trans. 1929), where he stated that the child's 'intellectual egocentricity' means 'that the child neither spontaneously seeks nor is able to communicate the whole of his thought' . 34 For Piaget, as for Klein, egocentricity was not a moral failing, but a key characteristic of what he was later to term the sensori-motor and pre-operational stages of development. When interviewed by Psychology Today in 1970, however, Piaget himself recognised that this term had been continually misinterpreted. When asked by the interviewer, Elizabeth Hall, 'When you say that the young child is egocentric, just what do you mean?' , Piaget replied, 'That term has had the worst interpretations of any term I have used' . Indicating that this was a widely recognised issue, Hall replied, 'That's why I asked the question' . Piaget went on to clarify his use of this terminology: When I refer to the child, I use the term egocentric in an epistemological sense, not in an affective or moral one. This is why it has been misinterpreted. The egocentric child … is incapable of putting himself in someone else's place, because he is unaware that the other person has a point of view. 35 Crucially, Piaget and Klein were both clear that the idea of 'egocentricity' was not applicable to children over seven.
This definition, however, was not the one that came into popular use. Furthermore, theoretical statements about younger children were often mistakenly assumed to hold true for all children under 12, distorting the intentions of the original texts still further. Teaching discourses often made the same mistake. Training college lecturers' A.G. Hughes and E.G. Hughes's Learning and Teaching (1937, revised 1946) was an extremely popular manual, going through multiple reprints in the inter-war years and into the post-war period, and regularly appearing on training college booklists. 36 Hughes and Hughes, in an introductory chapter on child development, asserted that 'It is well known that young children are, as a general rule, determined little egotists' . 37 Similarly, the ministry of Education's report on Primary Education (1959) stated that 'During childhood there is a gradual transition from the baby's egocentric life of play towards the adult's occasional hours of freedom' . 38 These guides, therefore, implied that children aged 7 to 11 were at least partly egocentric, in comparison to the self-denial expected of adults, and often associated egocentricity with undesirable characteristics, rather than using the term in the value-neutral sense that Piaget and Klein had intended. They used both psychoanalysis and developmental psychology to bolster more recent re-imaginings of the role of the adult, and hence, the limits of the child.
Kleinian terminology also contributed to the negative depiction of the inner world of the child in post-war childrearing manuals; first and foremost, those written by the British neo-Kleinian psychoanalysts, John Bowlby and Donald Winnicott. Their popular handbooks were reissued as cheap Pelicans in the 1960s, and both were regular speakers on the radio. 39 Klein's complex analysis of the child psyche was rarely communicated clearly in these formats. Winnicott's popular texts often used psychoanalytical terms without qualification or explanation, presenting a dark view of an infant governed by innate aggression. In his The Child and the Family (1957), he emphasised the violent phantasies of the infant; for example, in his discussion of breastfeeding, he noted that 'it is not possible to ignore the destructive element in the aim of the infant' and darkly implied that the infant's 'thousand goes at the breast' is different from bottle-feeding it a thousand times: 'the survival of the mother is more of a miracle in the first case than in the second' . He also represented the child's relationship with the family using fairly negative terminology: 'A normal child, if he has confidence in father and mother, pulls out all the stops … he tries out his power to disrupt, to destroy, to frighten, to wear down, to waste, to wangle, and to appropriate' . 40 Similarly, Bowlby wrote ominously in Maternal Care and Mental Health (1952), his original World Health organisation report that was abridged to become Child Care and the Growth of Love, that if the child has a close enough relationship with his mother, his 'characteristic and contradictory demands, on the one hand for unlimited love from his parents and on the other for revenge upon them when he feels that they do not love him enough, will … remain of moderate strength' . 41 ronald Illingworth, a professor of child health at the University of Sheffield who had worked under Arnold Gesell at yale in his earlier years and was also influenced by Bowlby, took up this theme in his The Normal Child (1953), which became a key reference text for GPs. In keeping with his background in developmental psychology, Illingworth noted that aggressiveness in childhood is not only to be expected but is an important stage that the child must pass through, arguing that parents must be understanding of the child's emotional difficulties. However, he also picked up on psychoanalytical themes when, later in the volume, he described the development of a child up to the age of three which admits little that is positive about the baby or toddler, and carefully notes that this picture of horror 'is not exaggerated' . 42 While this text was primarily intended for family doctors, Illingworth also wrote a popular reference guide for parents, Babies and Young Children (1957), with his wife, Cynthia. The popular American writer Dr. Spock, a paediatrician who was strongly influenced by psychoanalysis, also suggested that the two-year-old had inherently violent tendencies: 'If your child is hurting another, or looks as if he were planning murder, pull him away in a matter-of-fact manner and get him interested in something else … he will come round to generosity very gradually' . 43 Children's inability to control their own desires was contrasted to the stronger superego of the healthy adult in these psychoanalytical texts. These guides remained popular into the 1970s; Spock, as is well known, went through multiple editions and reprints, but the texts by Bowlby, Winnicott and Illingworth also continued to sell well throughout this period. Illingworth's The Normal Child, for example, had gone through 6 editions and 11 reprints by 1975, and Babies and Young Children was in its 5th edition by 1977.
In the late 1970s, however, Penelope Leach's Baby and Child (1977) offered an interesting counterpoint to these older childrearing texts. Leach held a doctorate in social psychology, but was a well-known popular writer on parenting, contributing regularly to the Times as well as to magazines such as Mother and Baby and Mother, and presenting her ideas on the BBC on programmes such as Woman's Hour. 44 While she had written an earlier book on parenting-Babyhood (1974)-it was Baby and Child that was to become a key reference point for mothers from the end of the 1970s. Leach claimed to write 'from the baby's point of view' and her image of the inner world of a child, informed by Piagetian developmental psychology rather than psychoanalysis, was much gentler than the pictures painted by earlier writers such as Bowlby and Winnicott. 45 Furthermore, she avoided the confusing terminology of these texts by omitting terms such as 'egotistic' . Instead, she clearly explained that a baby cannot be 'spoiled' because 'they are not grown up or clever enough to be spoiled'; babies cannot yet see themselves as separate from other people, so cannot place their own wants above those of others. 46 Her description of the capabilities of early childhood, from three years onwards, actually challenges Piaget's schema by asserting that the young child is capable of far more than he had theorised; for example, she argued that '[h]e becomes capable of genuinely unselfish sympathy and concern' , which Piaget had seen as impossible for a child of nursery school age. 47 However, Leach's manual was not available to parents until the very end of our period; and despite her less limited concept of childhood, the demands that her texts placed on mothers were no less rigid than the strictures of earlier writers, as we shall see.
When considering teaching manuals that focus on 7-to 11-year olds, the picture also becomes more complex. Although, as we have seen, children in this age group might be incorrectly described as 'egotistic' , alongside their younger counterparts, this was also portrayed as the 'age of the gang' by developmental psychologists. 48 In Circular 151, issued by the ministry of Education in 1947 and entitled 'Explanatory notes for the completion of the school record card' , 'sociability' was defined as strong if the primary school child was 'very sociable and companionable; very happy and easy in company' and weak if he or she 'keeps aloof from others; self-centred and solitary; unfriendly' . 49 The idea that children in this age group are naturally gregarious seems difficult to square with assertions about their egotism at first glance; however, this might be rationalised as a shallow kind of sociability, unlike the deeper connections forged by adolescents and by adults. For example, the psychologist C. W. Valentine wrote in his popular textbook Psychology and its Bearing on Education (1950) of the 'more intense emotional bond' of early adolescent friendships, compared to the groups formed by younger children, which also do not possess true team spirit. 50 The attributes assigned to this age group would, in practice, have also been mediated by gender, class and race. The white male child was the invisible norm in such manuals. 51 There is not space here to fully examine these important topics, but we will briefly consider the gendering of the 'child-centred' child. Childhood and adolescence were treated very differently in child-centred writing. manuals, texts and reports that discussed adolescents foregrounded gender differences by asserting that boys' and girls' interests were fundamentally different. 52 In contrast, the most popular teaching manuals for primary school teachers usually mentioned the differences between boys and girls only briefly; the term 'child' is consistently used for younger children, with gendered pronouns appearing only when the subjects approached adolescence. For example, m. V. Daniel's standard textbook Activity in the Primary School (1947) contrasted the 'child of seven' with 'the boy or girl of eleven' . 53 As this suggests, gender assumed greater significance at the older end of the age group because common characteristics were seen as less usual; Daniel, who was an HmI in manchester, thought that after the age of ten, 'the divergence between the interests of boys and girls becomes more apparent' . 54 HmIs were often concerned that children should have teachers of the same sex, but only once they reached a certain age; reports do not otherwise mention the gender of primary-aged pupils. 55 Teachers World and The Schoolmaster also have little to say on gender for this age group; Joseph Edmundson's comment in 1956 that 'The average primary school child, boy or girl, is a very healthy young animal with an almost insatiable craving for physical activity' is typical. 56 This is not to suggest that teachers did not display gendered attitudes towards their pupils in practice, but only to note that the theoretical image of primary-aged children was one that highlighted shared, practical interests and gregarious energy, rather than gender-which only served to distinguish them further from adolescents and adults. Becoming a fully gendered being indicated that the child was getting closer to maturity.
Having accepted that children had inherent limitations, these advice guides tended to argue that, to ensure healthy development, parents and teachers must be prepared for children to behave badly. Although child-centred writers normalised these images of the child, teachers and parents tended to be more critical of the type of child that resulted from child-centred practice. Indeed, they often blamed child-centred caregiving itself for making children more self-centred, playing into the popular stereotypes about children that we have already encountered. Teachers World criticised child-centred methods in these terms in 1967: 'British children do not like work; and too many teachers have stopped making them work … We have decided to bring up a generation of confident, assertive, take-the-easy-road children' . 57 Correspondence in the journal reflected this point of view: one teacher wrote in 1966 that 'Children today are becoming so self-centred and fond of playing at work that real work comes as a shock they may never revive from' , and a similar letter to the TES in the same year criticised 'this sentimental, entirely misplaced and dangerous pandering to youth' . 58 While the Teacher had been initially much more supportive of progressivism, an increasing number of articles in the journal were expressing concern by the 1960s and 1970s: in 1961, A.W. rowe criticised 'the modern mistaken tendency to over-stress the child and his needs' , while in 1970, an anonymous female teacher in her 50s argued that 'our modern schools seem full of noisy, restless, neurotic children, few of who seem capable of even a few minutes' quiet, deep conversation' . 59 While teachers expressed concerns about child-centred education openly, parents' concerns about the impact of permissive parenting were necessarily more muted. nevertheless, such worries emerged in social scientific surveys and oral histories of parenthood as early as the 1950s and 1960s. Drawing upon 21 new oral history interviews, Selina Todd and Hilary young have recently asserted that the 'moral panic' in a segment of the post-war media about delinquent youth was not shared by working-class parents, who were happy that their children could enjoy greater freedom and a wider choice of leisure pursuits than they had been able to, and actively sacrificed their own time and money to provide for their teenagers. 60 However, alongside this generational harmony between parents and teenagers, there was a cross-current of anxiety and uncertainty in working-class discourse concerning younger children, whose upbringing was more governed by child-centred norms than that of the cohort who had already entered adolescence in the 1950s. This phenomenon was observed by psychologists John and Elizabeth newson in 1963 in nottingham in their survey of 700 families with four-year-old children; they found it so common that they devoted a section of their chapter on changing attitudes to parenting to this 'bewildered trend of twentieth-century changelings' . 61 Working-class mothers, they argued, felt pressure to put the child first at all times, and while consciously choosing to parent in a different way from the way that they had been brought up, often seemed nonplussed by the results. They returned to this assertion in Four Years Old in an Urban Community (1968), arguing that 'many parents are finding that they have got something more than they bargained for … it is not always so easy to accept the more spirited, disrespectful child which is the result' . many have 'an uneasiness, a confusion, as to what they are achieving and what they are trying to achieve' . 62 This trend was experienced by middle-class mothers as well, the newsons argued; but it had been in place before the wars via the influence of writers such as Susan Isaacs, Bertrand russell and A.S. neill, and had taken longer to percolate down to the working class, which meant that middle-class mothers experienced less of a contrast with their own mothers' style of parenting. 63 The newsons admitted that, due to the lack of reliable evidence on older parenting methods, this section of their book, examining the responses to the question, 'Would you say you were bringing up your children the same way as you yourself were brought up, or differently?' , would not rest as reliably on statistical evidence as some of the other sections; nevertheless, they argued, these statements were still important, as a mother's parenting style was so deeply affected by her own childhood. 64 A bricklayer's wife thought: 'they're not so well behaved today as they were when we was young. They don't think so much of other people, of their parents, these days' . A labourer's wife is recorded as saying: When they get big they're very difficult, aren't they? They seem to be more full of life than we was, I don't know if it's the war that's done it or what. They seem to like their own way a lot more, don't they? I don't know whether it's us that's doing it or not.
A craftsman's wife was the most eloquent, and the newsons themselves saw her as getting to 'the heart' of what they thought of as the 'more intropunitive attitude of this younger generation of parents': nowadays, if they don't turn out right you wonder where you've gone wrong, don't you? It used to be … if things went wrong it was the child's fault, not the parents' , they could never be wrong. I think we're not so happy about ourselves these days, we blame ourselves, not the child. I do, I know. I wish I didn't sometimes. 65 Spock himself reflected this trend in his additions to the revised editions of his 1955 British text. In the US, he had been blamed for what was perceived as the increasingly selfish and anti-social attitudes of teenagers who had been raised in accordance with his advice, and this perhaps partly explains his about-face. 66 In the section on 'Discipline' in the original text, he essentially argued that punishment should not be necessary in a well-ordered household.
'If a child is handled in a friendly way, he wants to do the right thing, the grown-up thing, most of the time' . 67 In his 1969 edition, however, the section was now headed 'Some common misunderstandings about discipline' and phrased as a warning: while parents have 'welcomed new theories' , Spock suggested that They have often read meanings into them that went beyond what the scientists intended-for instance, that all that children need is love; that they shouldn't be made to conform … that whenever anything goes wrong it's the parents' fault; that when children misbehave the parents shouldn't become angry or punish them but try to show more love. 68 The consequences of this, as the newsons had also intimated in the late 1960s, were bad for both parents and children: 'They encourage children to become demanding and disagreeable … They make parents strive to be superhuman' . Punishment could sometimes be necessary, as 'Children's motives are good (most of the time) but they don't have the experience or the stability to stay on the road' . 69 This was a much more equivocal picture of the young child than the confident statements Spock had expressed in his 1955 edition, but it chimes with the new anxieties now prevalent among both teachers and parents about the behaviour of the rising generation. Caregivers needed to tread a careful line between understanding the cognitive and emotional limits of the child and allowing this recognition to lead them into over-indulgence, while children were now viewed as less innately capable, putting greater pressure upon teachers and parents to shape them into the citizens of the future.

The 'child-centred' caregiver
If children's cognitive limitations meant that they were inevitably self-centred, caregivers could not negotiate their own needs; they had to be consistently altruistic, precisely because their charges were not. moreover, as children's emotional and social progress was now linked to their chronological development, there were natural limitations on what teachers and parents could do to educate them in empathy before adolescence, imposing new and more taxing expectations on the adults who had to deal with pre-pubescent children. In childrearing advice, this provided a sharp contrast with inter-war norms. Inter-war behaviourism, which dominated parenting advice manuals before the advent of psychoanalysis, has traditionally been viewed by historians such as Deborah Thom, Christina Hardyment, Cathy Urwin and Elaine Sharland as rigid and demanding, imposing feeding and sleeping timetables on the mother and infant and making mothers feel inadequate if they failed to effectively 'train' their infant or educate themselves as an expert in infant and child care. 70 However, it could be more explicitly focused on the mother's needs than later discourses. For example, Sydney Frankenberg's popular Common Sense in the Nursery, first published in 1922 and in its third edition by 1934, argued that 'By training the baby to lie alone … by feeding him four-hourly by day and not at all by night, a woman is able to lead a human life instead of having it completely disorganised' . 71 Behaviourism also suggested that young children were capable of much more than developmental psychologists believed. John Watson, the wellknown US behaviourist, thought that even a three-year old was capable of putting 'on such habits of politeness and neatness and cleanliness that adults are willing to be around him at least part of the day' . 72 This was hardly a warm-hearted view of the place of children in the family; but it did suggest, in contrast to later child-centred advice, that children were capable of considering and responding to others' needs.
In order to effectively raise the egotistic child, the standards of maternal love that later writers expected could be daunting. In the early years, a mother was expected not only to subjugate all her own needs to her child, but to enjoy her own self-sacrifice; Winnicott argued in The Child, the Family and the Outside World that the infant could sense if the mother was not enjoying her role, arguing that she must take pleasure from washing and dressing her baby 'or else the whole procedure is dead, useless and mechanical' . 73 In an earlier series of radio talks, 'How's the Baby' , which broadcast from 1949 and which contain very similar content to Winnicott's first edition of The Child and the Family, he stated that 'A mother who is enjoying herself is probably a good mother from the baby's point of view' . 74 meanwhile, Bowlby issued warnings about the impact of separation from one's young child, even for a short period of time, writing in the abridged popular Pelican edition of Child Care and the Growth of Love that such continuity was necessary for a 'proper' mother-child relationship: 'Just as the baby needs to feel that he belongs to his mother, the mother needs to feel that she belongs to her child' so she is able to provide 'constant attention night and day' . Again, the mother also needs to feel 'correctly': 'profound satisfaction' and 'devotion' are expected. 75 Spock, although less prescriptive, still enjoined mothers to 'EnJoy yoUr BABy' at the beginning of his manual. 76 John and Elizabeth newson commented on this trend in their 1968 study of parenthood in nottingham, which we will return to in greater detail later in the article; while they recognised that advice manuals were now less specific and focused on flexibility alongside a few general principles, they thought that the 'trouble arises when the injunction to "have fun with your children" itself begins to acquire the pressurizing character. ' 77 Leach's manual was no exception to this trend, as the first lines of her introduction made clear. She argued that taking the baby's point of view does not mean neglecting yours, the parents' viewpoint. your interests and his are identical … If you make happiness for him he will make happiness for you. If he is unhappy, you will find yourselves unhappy as well, however much you want or intend to keep your feelings separate from his.
'Fun for him is fun for you' , she reiterated a few pages later, reflecting the newsons' observation. 78 Despite the use of 'parents' in the plural in this opening section, Leach was clear that her manual was really aimed at mothers, as, drawing on Bowlby's attachment theory, she argued that 'Every baby needs one special person to attach himself to … It is through this baby-love that he will become capable of more grown-up kinds of love' . Fathers, she argued, were usually unable to be this 'special person' because they were out at work. 79 Unlike earlier (male) writers, Leach recognised that her methods involved 'extremely hard work' for the mother. 80 But she argued that the answer was not to try to separate your interests from your child's but, on the contrary, to try to meet his/her needs in every way: 'If you refuse to help him, trying to ration your attention, everyone will suffer and you will suffer most of all' . 81 Despite Leach's more practical tone, this warning was as clear as those issued by Bowlby and Winnicott, placing the key responsibility for a child-centred upbringing solely with the mother.
Teachers, too, were told that while progressive education required greater thought, time and effort, both they and their pupils would benefit from the investment. The child-centred teacher was required to produce a wide range of different kinds of apparatus for childcentred activities, construct lessons to allow for children's own interests and use classroom space in increasingly imaginative ways; for example, by decorating the walls, putting out a nature table and allowing more group work by rearranging the furniture. 82 Some teachers felt that child-centred teaching, which encouraged class participation, also made it harder to discipline the pupils, and that these less orderly classrooms were inherently more taxing. Howard Peach, a schoolteacher, argued in 1967 that new methods of teaching maths meant 'a debasing of arithmetical accuracy in favour of child agitation, entertainment and sheer novelty' which required the acquisition and use of far more equipment. 83 Lynn, one of my interviewees, felt that the 'integrated day' , a child-centred innovation in the primary school that allowed children to plan their own timetables, was 'exhausting' and 'really hard work' when she had to put it into practice in the mid-1970s because it was 'another name for what I would call chaos' . 84 While it was recognised by even the most enthusiastic exponents of child-centred methods that this new way of teaching was especially demanding for the teacher, Sybil marshall argued that the effort was worth it, both for the pupil and, crucially, for the teacher: 'To control a class in freedom … is the most exhausting way of all of doing a teacher's job' , she admitted, but it is better for the teacher 'to be a well of clear water into which the children can dip all the time, instead of a hosepipe dousing them with facts' . 85 Her philosophy was echoed by John Blackie, an influential Cambridgeshire inspector who became Chief Inspector for Primary Education from 1963 to 1966 and a lecturer at Homerton thereafter, in his book Inside the Primary School (1971), where he stated that 'The new methods make very heavy demands on the patience, good humour, energy, knowledge and skill of the teacher, but it is also true to say they are much more rewarding for him' . 86 material conditions in the majority of England's schools were not suitable for such major innovations, placing even greater strain on teaching staff. Large class sizes were a basic barrier to individualising one's teaching, and also made any attempt to teach in a more 'progressive' way even more demanding. Peter Cunningham suggests that the average primary class ranged from 40 to 50 pupils in the 1950s. 87 By 1960, the average class size was 33, but 23,000 classes still contained over 40 pupils. 88 Average figures also hide the especially difficult conditions encountered by some teachers, especially those teaching in small rural schools. John Brucker started teaching in 1950 in Abingdon in oxfordshire with a class of 54 children: 'outings were rare weren't they' , he recalled, 'you couldn't manage 54 kids' . mary Bews, an educational adviser for oxfordshire schools, described the rural classrooms that she encountered in the 1950s: 'The high windows, so the pupils couldn't see out, the tortoise stoves, that roasted the front rows while those at the back froze. The drab-coloured walls, the iron-framed double desks' . Unsuitable, crowded buildings persisted into the 1970s; as Lynn recalled, in one of the oxfordshire primary schools in which she did her teaching practice in 1973, 'there were far too many children to fit into the room-the teacher had had to take the doors off the cupboards … you couldn't actually open the cupboard doors because of the press of desks and chairs' 89 The Plowden report of 1967 indicated that this was not a problem unique to oxfordshire; it calculated that around two-thirds of primaries still occupied pre-1919 buildings, as 'school building programmes since the war have favoured the secondary schools' . 90 The Teacher noted that American teachers visiting English primary schools in 1966 had commented that It is difficult to group or have activity centres, when the room is so filled with nailed-down desks, plus steady streams of traffic … noise coming through the plywood partition from the infants' room next door prevents almost all oral discussion. 91 As progressive reform had proceeded more swiftly in primary schools than in secondary moderns, this put primary school teachers under particular pressure. 92 The demands of progressive childrearing were encapsulated for many parents in post-war England in the idea that they had to put their children 'first' , reflecting the greater importance placed on 'future citizens' after the Second World War. 93 . While teachers acknowledged this stricture grudgingly, parents were more likely to adopt it enthusiastically. roberts notes that children born in the 1950s and 1960s were expected to do less housework, citing Christina Hardyment's statement that 'reaction from austerity, military discipline and sudden death made parents peculiarly inclined to indulge the new generation' and suggesting that most parents saw a child-centred family as desirable. 94 Willmott and young also note in their comments on the new suburb of Greenleigh that parents increasingly put children's needs first; when mrs Adams was asked if she wanted to leave Greenleigh, she answered 'I'd say no. I'd say that for the children's sake. They do love it here and it's so much better for them. But if it were for myself alone, I'd say yes' . mrs Sandeman said, 'I don't even go to my mum now. I haven't got the fare money. But you've got to put up with things if you want a place for your children. your children come first, I say' . 95 Pat Thane records the testimony of a 25-year-old unskilled working-class woman from Bermondsey in the 1950s: 'I reckon we all feel more responsible for our kids then they did when they had those big families-we don't want more than we can give a fair chance to' . 96 The newsons also recorded how frequently the idea of 'a better chance' reoccurred among their respondents, while Ferdynand Zweig noted that the same phrase was used by his male manual workers with children, indicating this was not gender specific. 97 As Selina Todd notes, the debate over working-class 'affluence' has neglected to consider that mothers often prioritised their children's leisure and consumption over their own, moving to the suburbs and allowing children greater financial independence, even though this often meant self-denial. 98 Although many women willingly subscribed to the ideal of a child-centred family, this did not mean that this choice was free of resentment. Progressive childrearing was not only demanding, but could lead to inevitable comparisons between an inter-war and post-war youth. Although David Fowler's The First Teenagers emphasises the freedom and spending opportunities of young inter-war wage earners, Claire Langhamer has warned that his case is overstated for young women. 99 As Sally Alexander notes in her survey of young women in the 1920s and 1930s, some of her interviewees felt disappointed and sometimes angry that they had been forced to leave school at 14 … This sense of disappointment never left the women. It had different effects. It left powerful feelings of ambivalence towards both their mothers and the homes they did not want to reproduce. 100 This explains why mothers were willing to sacrifice so much for their children but also implies that this sacrifice was not easy. Todd characterises the inter-war generation of women as governed by a framework of 'unfulfilled desire' within which they constructed hopes for their daughters, but it seems unlikely that they could have completely forgotten their own unrealised dreams. 101 As Carolyn Steedman suggests, drawing upon memories of her own 1950s childhood, mothers might not always be able to hide their resentment: her own mother told her stories of the hardships of previous generations, where 'The lesson was, of course, that I must never, ever cry for myself, for I was a lucky little girl' . 102 By the late 1970s, some mothers may have experienced child-centred parenting and relative affluence when they were children themselves, but for the majority of our period, this would not have been the case.
In contrast with parents, teachers in post-war England argued more assertively that the need to put the child 'first' in education meant that the needs of the teaching profession were neglected. Despite resistance to child-centred methods among teachers, a majority of English primary schools had at least partly reformed their practices by 1967. As the third section of this article will consider, pressure tended to come from the progressive inspectorate, from the refresher courses that teachers were enjoined to attend and most crucially from head teachers who believed that their own standing would suffer if they were too slow to adopt new ideas. Teachers, therefore, were often teaching in ways that they did not understand or which did not suit them, and, combined with the limited progressive image of childhood that we discussed in the previous section, this often led to the sense that the child's interests were now in conflict with that of the teacher. While mothers were enjoined to identify their own interests with those of their children, teachers often refused to accept this idea in relation to their pupils, however they might have governed their relationships with their own children. In 1959, J. P. Powell wrote to the Times Educational Supplement to state that 'Surely one of the most ill-advised policies adopted in education since 1945 has been that of 'Children First' . your front page recently claimed that 'they are really all that matters, after all' . Does anyone still really believe this?' S/he claimed that this policy had caused 'Large classes, low salaries, unsound teaching methods, the subversion of authority in the classroom, and the alarming breakdown rate among teachers' . Education, s/he argued, 'cannot succeed if the interests of one side are deliberately neglected' . [emphasis mine.] 103 Children not only served as a point of contrast against which to define the qualities that shaped adulthood, but were seen as a threat to the needs of adults.

Expertise and authority
As some teachers began to perceive child-centred practice as a challenge to their professional authority, children themselves might be figured as the problem, especially if it was believed that progressivism was emphasising children's existing selfishness. Post-war childrearing advice also undermined mothers' expertise by appealing to maternal instinct while providing little practical guidance. By assuring mothers that they would simply 'know' what was best for their child while simultaneously encouraging them to turn to clinical and psychological experts, writers induced anxiety and uncertainty, especially if mothers did not feel that they 'naturally' knew how to best care for their offspring. Bowlby, Winnicott and Leach's advice, while discarding detailed timetables for the baby's day, positioned parenting as far more emotionally demanding. It was now deemed to be a matter of innate knowledge, which some mothers may have experienced as glorious freedom but others may have found stressful, not knowing what to do and feeling more of a failure because they felt that they should know. 104 This uncertainty was demonstrated by the increased number of mothers seeking expert advice, rather than relying on the advice of older relatives and friends as they had tended to do in the inter-war period. As Elizabeth roberts's findings in Barrow indicate, working-class women who had their children in the 1940s tended to listen more to advice from friends and relatives than health professionals; she gives the examples of mrs owen and mrs marley, who had their children in 1940 and 1939 and 1943, respectively, who both primarily sought advice from relations. 105 Lara marks's research on four inter-war London boroughs also indicates resistance among working-class mothers to attending infant welfare clinics. 106 In contrast, as roberts's and Lucinda Beier's research has shown, working-class mothers who had their children in the 1950s and 1960s make increasing reference to clinics, and this is reflected in the increasing number of attendees across the period. Health visitors also became increasingly accepted. 107 Teachers also acted as 'experts' on child psychology and education, disseminating ideas to parents through open days, courses and PTAs, which became increasingly popular in the post-war period. 108 Talks introduced parents to new concepts: for example, at Hook norton all-age elementary, the county psychologist addressed the PTA in 1948, and Edith moorhouse, the well-known senior adviser for primary education in oxfordshire, spoke on 'the revolution in Education' in 1951. 109 As Doreen Essex, whose children were at school in oxfordshire in the 1950s and 1960s, put it, 'you saw the teachers as the expertise in teaching your children. you didn't feel that you'd got the expertise' . 110 While parents were willing to seek expert advice and place less value on practical, inherited knowledge, teachers' response to child-centred pedagogy was conditioned heavily by their career stage, and shaped by the need to defend their own professional authority. 111 younger teachers, on average, tended to be more susceptible to the influence of new methods, but by the time teachers had gained more experience in the classroom, they tended to draw on a different model of professional expertise that did not rely on a body of psychological knowledge about childhood. 112 This dominant trend was exemplified by an outpouring of correspondence over more than three months in the popular journal the Teacher in June 1967, sparked by a letter from G.L. Haynes, a primary school teacher who had been teaching for the past 30 years. While she got good results and had a good relationship with her class, she explained, she felt that 'modern methods' were seen as 'the only aspects of education worthy of discussion and notice' , and despite pressure from HmIs, she was resistant to adopting them. 113 Training college student Christine Philips argued in response that Haynes had given an inaccurate depiction of modern education, and had ignored the need to 'educate the whole child' . 114 Philips's intervention embodied the concerns of many more seasoned teachers, as she had yet had no experience of teaching, and was basing her claims upon psychological theory. An anonymous letter, in September 1967, summed up the overall reaction to Philips: 'one shudders to think how many people with the enthusiastic lack of experience of miss Phillips coupled with most excellent paper qualifications may be dictating primary policy from exalted levels' , he/she wrote giving the examples of HmIs, advisers and training colleges-the key agents of the promotion of progressivism. 115 Despite Haynes's traditionalism, female primary school teachers, on the whole, were more sympathetic to child-centred education than male primary school teachers in this period, as a 1975 study of 1513 teachers from 201 English and Welsh schools indicated. 116 However, married primary school teachers-both male and female-tended to be more traditional than unmarried teachers, regardless of their age. 117 While some married women would have been childless and some single women would have had children, it is fair to assume that the majority of teachers with children would have been married. Why were married female teachers less progressive than their single counterparts, even when they had a similar amount of teaching experience? Firstly, female teachers who had children of their own tended to place much greater significance upon the experience of parenthood than men. An interesting trend in the WEP interviews is the number of female respondents who reflect that, rather than their evacuation experiences or any other turning point in their career as a teacher, it was having their own children that really made them relate to their pupils in a different way. 118 Patricia Sikes observed a similar phenomenon in her study of 'the life-cycle of the teacher' in the early 1980s. Sikes argued that female teachers observed that they returned more as 'mums' to the children after having a career break. reflecting the trend shown in the WEP interviews, she states 'The 'advantage' mentioned by all mid-career women with children was that of greater understanding and sympathy' . Ann, 43, thought that 'Having your own children must change the way you see children … you get an understanding of children but you don't really know where you got it from' 119 my own female interviewees who had had their own children all, without prompting, emphasised how important the experience of becoming a mother had been for their teaching practice. For example, Debbie thought that 'After having my own child, I became different-better, I think' . 120 Carol, who had her first child in 1977 after she had already been teaching for seven years, stated in her questionnaire that one of 'the biggest influences' on her teaching had been 'my own children! I learnt so much more about child development' . 121 Interestingly, female teachers who had never had children of their own might point to the experience of getting to know children outside the school setting as a crucial influence on their teaching. ruth, one of my interviewees, when asked 'over the course of your career have you found that, as you've got older yourself, has the relationship with the children changed?' turned immediately to discourses about parenting: I'm not a mother myself but I've got friends with-whose young children I've looked after and they've grown up with me and I've grown sort of grown older with them-I think that how I deal with children is different … Just as a parent gets more confident with the second child than they were with the first child, I think with teaching you get more confident in how to deal with young people. 122 This suggests the power of the image of the teacher as mother, and how even childless female teachers might feel obliged to play into this stereotype. Teaching discourse in the post-war period, especially in primary schools, often deliberately positioned teachers as mothers, as Carolyn Steedman argues, citing Donald Winnicott's statement that the young teacher needs to learn about mothering through 'conversation with and observation of the mothers of children in her care' . 123 In contrast, while male interviewees often claimed that becoming a father had changed their relationship with their pupils if questioned directly, they did not bring parenthood up spontaneously when discussing key influences on their teaching. 124 While, therefore, it was not only mothers who felt that contact with children outside school altered their relationship with the children they taught, female teachers who had children of their own did experience a distinctive career trajectory that did not apply to men or childless women. Taking a career break to be a full-time mother seemed to alter their relationship with the theoretical concepts of childhood postulated by child-centred educationalists. most obviously, spending time outside the workplace meant that shifts in teaching practice struck women with greater force upon their return. Some WEP respondents commented that they were more disposed to progressive pedagogy after becoming mothers, as they felt that they understood children better, and this was reflected by one of my interviewees, Carol, who felt that 'it's taken me till bringing up my own children and then going back into primary school' to become 'much more excited about the development of children's minds and how they learn through play… maybe because I've got practical experience of it' . 125 A more typical response, however, was to comment on how rapidly things had changed, usually for the worse, which tallies with the responses from the 1975 survey. 126 For the majority of teachers, then, the experience of motherhood may have made them no less traditional, or even increased their conservatism. This does not necessarily mean that they remained uninfluenced by psychoanalytical childrearing ideas, but that the demanding nature of these strictures, which they may have related to the more taxing task of child-centred education, may have engendered greater resistance to progressive education, as well as encouraging ideas about children's innate selfishness promoted by both popular childrearing and teaching guides. Finally, of course, their greater practical experience of children both in the classroom and in the household may have encouraged them to disengage with theoretical ideas as they grew older.

Conclusion
Teachers and parents received distinct sets of advice about how to relate to children in post-war England, with the predominance of psychoanalytical discourse in parenting advice contrasting with the significance of developmental psychology in guidance aimed at teachers. nevertheless, this article has contended that it is illuminating to consider both of the principal spaces where children's psyches were shaped simultaneously. Both teachers and parents felt increased pressure to treat children as individuals, unable to rely any longer solely on traditional or craft knowledge, and both felt that the strictures of progressivism made their roles more demanding. Although they expressed their concerns in different languages, both teachers and parents became increasingly anxious about the impact of child-centred methods upon children themselves, contributing to a national shift in concepts of childhood that positioned this generation as a matter for concern. And when teachers became parents themselves, they often returned to teaching increasingly resistant to child-centred methods, despite claiming that they now understood children better. A 'craft' knowledge based on day-to-day experience was reasserted over the theoretical advice of experts, although teachers were still often required to use progressive pedagogy in the classroom. By promoting a more limited concept of childhood, progressivism was also not as wholly positive for children themselves as has been previously suggested.
By focusing closely on post-war concepts of childhood, rather than the more familiar analysis of adolescence, this article has suggested what precisely was believed to be necessary for a healthy development to full democratic selfhood. Children became objects of public concern because of their supposedly innate aggression and selfishness; as future citizens of post-war Britain, they needed to overcome these faults as they grew up into fully fledged adults. 127 These concerns were intensified by the popular belief among teachers and parents that the supposed solution to this problem-child-centred education and parenting-was in fact, making it worse, teaching children that their needs were more important than those of adults. However, it is also important to recognise that concepts of adulthood were also reshaped in this period, aligning with the requirements of a citizen in a social democracy. Therefore, childhood was contrasted with a more stringent concept of adulthood, widening the division between children and adults. By considering how post-war concepts of childhood were shaped by psychological assertions of what children lacked, this article has begun to explore how using age as a relational category might be fruitful for historians. To fully understand how childhood changed in post-war Britain, it has contended, we must also start to deconstruct assumptions about adulthood.

Disclosure statement
no potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.