It is the late 1960s in Britain. The heroism and suffering of the Second World War are now more than two decades away. Although victorious, the nation has had to endure severe austerity to recover from the cost of the war. It is now returning to prosperity: between 1951 and 1964 industrial production increased by 40 per cent, there were four times as many cars on the roads and thirteen times more television sets in the home. Earnings increased by 110 per cent, and the average standard of living by 30 per cent. By the end of the fifties Prime Minister Harold Macmillan could justifiably claim: ‘Most of our people have never had it so good.’

Benefiting from this new-found wealth, the youth of Britain, who had not lived through a time of war, began to assert themselves. Britain, which had always been regarded by America and Continental Europe as the home of tradition and conservative values, now became the home of the outrageous mini-skirted fashion of Mary Quant and Carnaby Street and of the deafening rock music of the Beatles and the Rolling Stones. The ending of conscription in 1960 meant that young men had greater freedom and more disposable income than ever before, the widespread availability of the contraceptive pill encouraged sexual experimentation, and the common acceptability of hallucinogenic drugs allowed the young to explore different states of consciousness.

Surprisingly, though, this did not lead to a society of mindless pleasure-seekers.