Immigration and Social Policy in Britain

Catherine Jones

• Publisher: Taylor & Francis
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN: 9781136445804
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Social Sciences
• Subtopic: Health Care Delivery
• Index: Social Sciences

Tavistock Press was established as a co-operative venture between the Tavistock Institute and Routledge & Kegan Paul (RKP) in the 1950s to produce a series of major contributions across the social sciences.
This volume is part of a 2001 reissue of a selection of those important works which have since gone out of print, or are difficult to locate. Published by Routledge, 112 volumes in total are being brought together under the name The International Behavioural and Social Sciences Library: Classics from the Tavistock Press.
Reproduced here in facsimile, this volume was originally published in 1977 and is available individually. The collection is also available in a number of themed mini-sets of between 5 and 13 volumes, or as a complete collection.

Part I
The argument

1
Introduction: immigration and social policy

Mass immigration to this country furnishes not merely a commentary upon, but in many ways a test of, prevailing statutory social policy. Such at least is the proposition underlying this study. It is one that I hope to demonstrate and develop by comparing three instances of mass immigration, each coinciding with a different phase of British social policy development. Thus we shall be examining the years of Irish immigration, c. 1800-61; the years of East European Jewish immigration, c. 1870-1911; and the years of New Commonwealth immigration, c. 1950-71. [1] Before proceeding to the case-studies themselves, however, I shall first explain my approach in greater detail and then, in the following chapter, set the scene for the rest of the book by discussing British social policy development over the whole period in question.

The idea, of looking at the relationship between immigration and statutory social policy in the context of social policy development, was one that arose out of an initial duality of research (and teaching) interests: New Commonwealth immigration and its impact upon present-day social policy, on the one hand, and nineteenth/early twentieth century social policy in Britain, on the other. What had seemed at the start to be two quite separate fields of interest, however, came gradually to appear more closely connected. In particular, the study of present-day immigration and its social policy implications seemed to demand some historical perspective.

New Commonwealth immigration, to judge from the evidence available, was of three-fold significance for contemporary statutory social policy. To begin with, the mere presence of such newcomers in this country helped to show up some of the shortcomings — as well as some of the strengths — of Welfare State social services provision. Yet such a presence seemed, in the second place, to furnish not merely a passive commentary upon but an active test of the problem-solving capabilities of social service agencies faced by sometimes novel, sometimes controversial, and often greatly increased demands upon their facilities. Set against this, however, there was a third tendency apparent: for the social services themselves to feature as bones of contention in the host-immigrant context and for them thus to constitute a problem-exacerbating as well as a problem-solving resource.

However the significance attributable to New Commonwealth immigration in these respects did not seem peculiar to New Commonwealth immigration per se. Evidence relating to earlier periods of social policy development in Britain seemed to suggest that first the Irish and subsequently the East European Jews, for instance, had been of comparable import as newcomers. They too, in other words, had seemed to show up the current scope and ethos of the social policy prevailing in their day. They too had apparently tested the problem-solving capacities of existing social services. And they too had helped expose social policy as a focus for host-immigrant resentments.

None of this, of course, implied any necessarily deliberate intention on the part of the immigrants themselves. All of this, however, seemed to point to there being common factors linking these and possible other immigration experiences — irrespective of the precise characteristics of the various immigrants themselves, of the precise condition of the British society into which they came, and of the precise layout of the social services they each encountered.

The point seemed one worth further exploration. So far as early Irish and East European Jewish immigration was concerned, this meant the collection of mostly secondary source material — since the breadth of subject-matter encompassed made first-hand research in both these areas an unrealistic proposition for one whose primary objective was, after all, to provide a fresh commentary upon, rather than a major addition to, the groundline evidence.

Inevitably, however, secondary source material was to prove in many respects less than complete and often less than appropriate for my purposes. It was at this stage and for these reasons that I decided finally against any attempt to include further instances of immigration (other than the three already referred to) in this study. [2] It was at this stage also that it proved necessary to carry out limited first-hand research in the field of New Commonwealth immigration. [3]

Nevertheless, the evidence accumulated did seem to support the notion of there being a consistent interrelationship between certain forms of immigration and ongoing British social policy. Moreover there seemed three broad reasons for this pattern.

To begin with, early Irish, East European Jewish, and New Commonwealth immigration could all loosely be described as instances of mass economic immigration to this country. In other words, they all involved large numbers of people; and they all involved a movement of people from less prosperous or less promising circumstances into what was evidently considered to be a more prosperous or more promising environment. This is not to say, of course, that there were not additional — sometimes powerful — motives present on each occasion. Nevertheless the numbers involved, and the characteristics of the immigrants in each case, would seem to support the idea of there being at least an underlying economic rationale for coming to Britain.

Upon arrival, such newcomers were bound almost by definition to constitute a relatively deprived, vulnerable and conspicuous group, in comparison with the bulk of the native population. As such they were likely, not merely to fall more than usually within the ambit of any existing social services (or projected social policy), but to be noticed more than usually whenever they did so. Mass economic immigration to Britain, in other words, was likely at the very least to furnish some sort of commentary upon the scope and ethos of contemporary social policy.

In the second place, Britain was nothing if not an ambivalent host society throughout this period; since the very qualities which served recurrently to attract — or even necessitate — mass immigration were also among those qualities which made such immigration difficult to come to terms with, whenever it occurred.

The capacity of a society both to attract and to accommodate large scale economic immigration would seem to depend, on the one hand, upon its ability to afford such newcomers apparent opportunities for advancement and, on the other, upon its ability to adjust to the prospect of these opportunities being fully taken up. But herein lay the rub. The ideal, from the potential immigrant's point of view, might have been a loose-knit, uncomplicated, easy-going social structure chock-a-block, nevertheless, with economic opportunity. Such an ideal was epitomized, in the minds of nineteenth-century migrants at least, by the image of the New World as a half-empty, expanding, exploratory economy. But it was hardly applicable to Britain — either in the nineteenth or the twentieth century. Britain's attractiveness over this period was the product of industrial and post-industrial development, rather than one of untapped virgin potential.

This was scarcely a trivial point. Industrial development might both attract and benefit from an influx of additional (cheap) labour from time to time. Nevertheless the same industrial development engendered social and political repercussions — the effects of which were to render this an increasingly complex and self-conscious society: less and less accessible, in a way, to large-scale, allegedly 'less civilized',[4] immigration. The country's international self-image — whether as workshop of the world, as moral/political pace-setter among nations, or as latter-day mother country of a onetime empire — amounted in this respect to an extension of the same ambivalence.

In the third place, the development of statutory social policy was not merely part and parcel of the repercussions referred to above; it served if anything to draw attention to, and provide an additional focus for, any debate over mass immigration.

Thus, to take the first half of this statement: industrialization and post industrial development entailed such a dislocation of social conditions as to give a sizeable proportion of the population active grounds for unease — if not for outright frustration or despair. At the same time, changes in the balance of the economy led to changes in the distribution of acknowledged power and influence within British society. Money talked — and eventually labour talked — just as the possession of land had talked earlier. Some of those who felt themselves to be most familiar with — if not most threatened by — the social consequences of industrialization were thus successively in a position, not merely to voice their opinions, but to expect to be listened to. This, after the experience of industrialization had tended, arguably, to favour a belief not merely in the alterability of social as well as economic conditions, but in the desirability, perhaps, of such alteration. These considerations help, at least, to account for the development and subsequent expansion of statutory social policy.

Yet the significance of this sociai policy, so far as mass immigration was concerned, was bound to be double-edged. On the one hand, needy immigrants might be expected materially to benefit from services designed, at the very least, to cater in some way for the weakest and most vulnerable sections of the population. On the other hand, however, the mere existence of any statutory social policy implied some degree of unease or dissatisfaction with the existing or 'natural' state of society, on the part of those whose opinions mattered. Furthermore, it implied some determination, however narrowly or broadly based, to engineer or maintain a more suitable alternative.

This then was hardly the relaxed, open-ended, easy-going environment of which any immigrant might have dreamed. A mass influx of impoverished outsiders was, in turn, almost the last thing so ambitious and self-conscious a society could want — for all that the extra manpower might be useful. The very appropriateness of existing social services to meet what were presumed to be immigrant requirements could, in such circumstances, become a focus for resentment in itself. Hence, I would suggest, the tendency of mass immigration to show up prevailing social policy not merely as a problem-solving but also as a problem-exacerbating resource.

These therefore seemed the common factors — applicable to each of the case-studies under review and broadly explanatory of the parallels between them. It is against this background that we shall look for the more specific points of contrast and comparison between each immigration-social policy encounter.

We will begin by looking in more detail at the manner in which social policy has developed in Britain, This discussion will, I hope, set the scene for the case-study presentation in two ways. To begin with, it should throw light on the nature of the social policy prevailing at the time of each period of immigration — and hence should provide a framework within which the impact of particular newcomers upon particular social policies and social services may the more readily be assessed. At a more general level, however, the discussion of social policy development should furnish some commentary upon the development of the host society itself — given that I shall be trying to account for social policy in terms of its being a response to social, economic, and political conditions and ideas. Following this discussion, therefore, we may be better placed to comment on Britain as a host society vis á vis successive groups of immigrants.

Each of the case-studies will open with commentary on the characteristics of the immigrants, the apparent reasons for their coming, and the manner in which they were received by contemporary public opinion. This will lead, naturally enough, into the principal area for debate: namely the significance of the immigration for contemporary social policy. Here we shall be concentrating essentially on the extent to which, and the ways in which, the presence of the newcomers seemed to expose social policy, stretch its problem-solving capabilities and reveal its problem-exacerbating potential.

The main lines of presentation, therefore, will be much the same from one case-study to the next. Nevertheless, in terms of length and degree of complexity, these will be three very different exercises. Social policy tends to become thicker on the ground from one period to the next, as does the quantity of source material available on both the social policy and the immigrants in question. For these reasons alone one can expect the Irish to be the shortest and simplest, and the New Commonwealth to be the most ambitious, of the three case-studies. The fact that the New Commonwealth discussion draws upon first as well as second-hand material, constitutes a further, qualitative, difference between this and the earlier two exercises. Differences such as these, however, do not prevent the drawing of valid comparisons between the separate case-study material. It is on the basis of such comparisons that we will arrive eventually, I hope, at a framework of analysis sufficiently comprehensive as to account, not merely for the similarities, but for the contrasts and gradations between these three immigration-social policy encounters.

2
Social policy development in the host society

This is a wide-ranging subject on which to attempt a summary discussion. In effect, the choice lies between trying primarily to describe developments and trying primarily to explain them — since one cannot seriously attempt both within the space available. I have chosen to concentrate upon analysis at the expense of detailed description; partly because it is the factors underlying social policy development that seem most central to the present discussion, and partly because the presentation of case-studies later in this book should go some way to make up for factual shortcomings. Nevertheless this does, at this stage, mean an account that assumes some knowledge on the reader's part — although not so much, I hope, as to be meaningless without it.

Looked at from this distance, the development of statutory social policy from the early nineteenth to the mid-twentieth century would seem to fall into three broad periods, or phases. This is not to suggest that precise chronological boundaries might be drawn separating the close of one period abruptly from the commencement of the next. I suggest merely that one may, with hindsight, detect such contrasts of style, scope, and objectives between social policy in the middle years of the nineteenth century, social policy in the years surrounding the turn of the century, and social policy in the middle years of the twentieth century, as to regard these periods as fundamentally distinct from one another in this respect. [1]

It is around these distinctions that I shall structure this discussion.

(i) Take-off

Statutory social policy begins to acquire prominence in Britain from the first half of the nineteenth century. The 1834 Poor Law Amendment Act and the 1848 Public Health Act, to say nothing of factory legislation and education grants, are landmarks almost too familiar for repetition here. Yet, not-withstanding the documentation available, one is still bound to question why it was that collective interference should from this time have begun to accumulate.

Social policy arises, virtually by definition, out of a dissatisfaction with the contemporary state of society — or with social conditions as they currently exist. Yet such a truism does not take us very far. Within any given social establishment it is still necessary to ask who is dissatisfied, why are they dissatisfied, to whom does their dissatisfaction matter, what do they or others think should be done about it, and what, in practice, may be expected by way of any engineered response. Social policy is in other words the product of a particular social, economic and political order — not simply a reflex reaction to any given degree of severity or unevenness in social conditions.

To state this is, once again, to state the obvious. Nevertheless the fact that statutory social policy appeared to take off in Britain only after her industrial revolution, seems to have prompted many commentators to view early policy development as a response by national leaders to the 'intrinsic' horrors of industrial living and working conditions, as experienced by growing masses of the population. 'The first industrial nation' (Mathias 1969), by now allegedly the workshop of the world, was battling to knock the worst out of an industrial revolution whose consequences it was at last beginning to appreciate. Thereafter, once statutory intervention had got under way, it was presumably a case of self-generated growth in governmental action.

Superficially there is much to sustain this synopsis. Certainly the rigours of early factory regimes, along with the wretchedness of urban living conditions, for a mushrooming wage-labour force dependent utterly upon the dictates of a trade cycle, have been amply documented. In the case of both factory and public health legislation, moreover, the targets for reform can be identified exclusively as the consequences of rapid industrialization and its urban accompaniments. Statutory services once on the ground, furthermore, did tend to show up areas for additional or intensified government action.

Even so, this is hardly a sufficient explanation for the emergence and proliferation of statutory social policy in Britain. While the lot of the labouring classes was undoubtedly a hard one in the nineteenth century, it is by no means proven that the majority were actually worse off than their counterparts of a century before. [2] Nor indeed was this the first time that dissatisfaction had been expressed either by them, about them, or on their behalf. Again, while this was an age of marked social policy development, not every such piece of policy seems to have been geared consciously to cope with the aftermath of industrialization. The New Poor Law, for instance, was arguably still setting its sights on the problem of the rural destitute rather than on those of the urban unemployed (Rose 1972: 12).

So, if one assumes a causal relationship to exist between the experience of industrialization and the subsequent development of social policy in Britain, it is to the effects of industrialization upon the social, economic, and political order in general — rather than upon the extremes of living conditions in particular — that attention must be directed.

Dissatisfaction over social conditions was being expressed in many quarters in the first decades of the nineteenth century. The poor, be they unemployed labourers, uneasy craftsmen, or simply soldiers returning from the wars, were protesting at their lot, while the propertied classes were protesting at the waste and the worry of it all (Webb and Webb 1929). Not every protest carried the same import or the same weight politically. The Agricultural Labourers' Revolt of 1830 was at once a last, hopeless fling for them and a signal for others to demand counter-action. But the protests of ratepayers over the mounting expenses of the old poor laws were met eventually by a Poor Law Amendment Act. Those who made and paid the money called the tune.

In itself this was hardly a novel state of affairs — except that those recognized as the money-makers and money-payers of 1830 represented a rather different social gathering from their pre-industrial equivalents. However exaggerated the label, the industrial revolution had intervened and begun to make its impact. To say that the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries witnessed the emergence of manufacturing and subsequently of labour-force interests as factors to be reckoned with in a society hitherto governed essentially by the dictates of land and trade, can be no more than a primitive simplification. Yet it contains enough truth, perhaps, to service this discussion.

From 1832 manufacturing interests were in effect assured of representation, as £10 householders, in the House of Commons. This 'enfranchisement of the middle classes' has accordingly been cited, very often, to explain both the harshness of the New Poor Law, on the one hand, and the repeal of the Corn Laws, on the other. Yet to explain all in terms of current parliamentary representation is effectively to skirt the point. Manufacturing interests gained representation, belatedly, because they were recognized at last as commanding a vital national resource.

It is against this backcloth tha...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Original Title
• Original Copyright
• Dedication
• Contents
• Acknowledgements
• Part I: The Argument
• Part II: The Case Studies
• Appendix The SSRC Survey: 'The response of the statutory social services to New Commonwealth immigration'
• References
• Notes
• Index