(1) Guttsman, W. L., The British Political Elite (London, Mac Gibbon and Kee, 1968)Google Scholar. I am most grateful to Mr. Guttsman and to Mr. P. M. Williams for their comments on an earlier draft of this paper.

(2) Two works are worthy of mention: Rush, M.The Selection of Parliamentary Candidates (London, Nelson, 1969)Google Scholar, which includes a mass of interesting material; and Pulzer, P. G. J., Political Representation and Elections in Britain (London, Allen and Unwín, 1967), which includes (pp. 64–74)Google Scholar a brief but illuminating discussion of the major party elites.

(3) Guttsman, (op. cit. p. 77n. 2)Google Scholar categorises elite members in terms of social background, and thus of parental occupation (in the case of aristocrats his criterion is the holding of a hereditary title in the grandparent generation). In this paper I have used the same definition of aristocracy but have categorised other elite members in terms of their own occupation prior to election.

(4) See Guttsman, , op. cit. pp. 78–9Google Scholar, for further elucidation of this process.

(5) See D. Butler and D. Stokes, Political Change in Britain. Forces Shaping Electoral Choice (London, Macmillan, 1969)Google Scholar, esp. Ch. iv, Class and Party.

(6) See, for example, the major networks of the Derbys, Salisburys and Devonshires constructed by Guttsman, , op. cit. pp. 222–4Google Scholar.

(7) At the beginning of the 19th century there were only 9 public schools—of which Eton, Harrow, Rugby and Westminster were the most important. The rise of middle class demand for this type of education not merely re-invigorated these often decaying institutions, but led to the foundation of many new public schools in the 1850s and 1860s. See Briggs, A., Thomas Hughes and the Public Schools, in his Victorian People (London, Pelican, 1965)Google Scholar. In effect, of course, these new (minor) public schools did represent a new channel of elite entry fashioned by the middle classes for their progeny.

(8) See Green, V. H. H., The Universities (London, Pelican, 1969), esp. the chart facing p. 142Google Scholar.

(9) Since the 1920s there have usually been between 120 and 140 Trades Union-sponsored seats (Pulzer, , op. cit. p. 71Google Scholar), most of them safe Labour seats. Rush, (op. cit. p. 186)Google Scholar shows that since 1950 the Co-operative movement has generally sponsored over 30 candidates. In the 1950 Parliament there were 110 Trades union-sponsored and 19 Co-op sponsored MPs.

(10) For further discussion of this point, see below pp. 23–5.

(11) There were fewer than 53 individual women MPS in this period—our figures double-count or more many who were reelected.

(12) Miss F. Bondfield (Lab. 1929–31), Miss E. Wilkinson (Lab. 1945–47) and Miss F. Horsburgh (Con. 1953–54).

(13) See above, Table iii, p. 40. See also Rose, R., Class and Party Divisions: Britain as a Test Case (University of Strathclyde, Survey Research Centre, Occasional Paper No. 1), p. 39Google Scholar where the decline of the working class Labour MP is charted for the whole period 1906–66, though the derivation of many of the statistics cited is suspect.

It should be noted that the swing of the electoral pendulum does not treat the component social groups within the major parties in the same way. For many years it has been the case that the safest Conservative seats have been disproportionately held by socially ‘superior’ elements, particuarly ex-public schoolboys. Thus, the worse the Conservative party fares electorally, the hightest the public school proportion within its parliamentary ranks (76% in 1955, 72% in 1959, 76% in 1964, 85% in 1966, according to Pulzer, , op. cit. p. 69)Google Scholar. Similarly, working class Labour MPs have traditionally been concentrated in the safest Labour seats so that their proportion within the PLP has risen with defeat, dropped with victory. It is this factor which accounts for the great variation in the working class proportions in the 1918–45 period, and also the slight rise in this proportion during the Labour defeats of the 1950s.

(14) See above, note 13.

(15) Sunday Times, 31 May 1970.

(16) Throughout this paper this term is used to denote replacement of working-class by middle-class elite members.

(17) Working class Conservative MPs are as invisible as ever, of course, but in light of the major Labour trend it is interesting to note that the always small number of trade unionist and worker Conservative candidates has also tended to fall (from 10 in 1955 to 9 in 1959 to 6 in 1966: Rush, , op. cit. p. 97)Google Scholar. The 1970 figures provided by Butler, and Pinto-Duschinsky, (op. cit. p. 302)Google Scholar (6 worker candidates of whom 2 elected) are not strictly comparable with Rush's figures.

(18) The Conservative MP, Julian Critch ley, has made the distinction, in the cricketing terms so dear to Conservatives, between the ‘gentlemen’ favoured by county seats and the ‘players’ who, until recently, were to be found only in the less secure suburban seats (New Statesman, 5 Feb. 1965, p. 189). The same passage from Critchley's article is quoted in different versions by Rush, (op. cit. p. 90)Google Scholar in order to agree with him, and by Pulzer, (op. cit. p. 70)Google Scholar in order to de-emphasize the point he makes.

(19) Rush, , op. cit. p. 77Google Scholar.

(20) Ibid. pp. 72–3.

(21) Ibid. p. 72.

(22) The best pointer is the falling age of Conservative candidates in Labour-held seats—it is from this pool that a large proportion of future MPS will be drawn. In 1951 46.5% of such candidates were under 40, in 1970 55·3% (Rush, , op. cit. p. 96Google Scholar, Butler, and Pinto-Duschinsky, , op. cit. p. 300)Google Scholar.

(23) Mason is the only working class member of the 1964–70 Cabinet young enough to entertain reasonable expectations of future office in a Labour Cabinet (Mellish is already 60). Though a miner, Mason is hardly a typical worker—having attended the L.S.E. and entered Parliament at the age of 29.

(24) The only aristocrat in the Labour Cabinet, Lord Longford (the 7th Earl), had also been an Oxford don, though his first job had been as a research worker in Conservative Central Office.

(25) The town of Bootle provides an example of a Labour municipal oligarchy based on kinship: “For 120 years the Mersey-side Mahons have established a modest though significant political dynasty in Bootle to a point where the sooty Lancashire town is often called ‘Mahonchester’” (Sunday Times, 7 Feb. 1971). For interesting data on kinship networks within the General and Municipal Workers' Union (one of Britain's largest unions), see Lane, T. and Roberts, K., Strike at Pilkingtons (London, Collins Fontana, 1971), p. 53Google Scholar.

(26) Sir Dingle and Michael Foot; George and Ronald Brown; and four brothers sitting for Manchester seats: Leslie and Harold Lever, and Charles and Alfred Morris.

(27) To this list (which has no claim to being complete) one may add G. Janner MP 1970-), son of the former Labour MP and (now) 1st Baron Janner. A comparison of the educational backgrounds of these 8 sets of fathers and sons provides an index of the social mobility and aspirations of Labour's elite. Of the fathers two (Jenkins Sr. and Henderson Sr.) had only an elementary education, five attended secondary schools and one (Cripps Sr.) a public school. The latter was the only father to attend Oxford, though Noel-Baker Sr. attended Cambridge and four attended other universities. Of the sons, Jenkins Jr. and Henderson Jr. were the only two not to attend public schools, Five of the sons attended Oxford, two Cambridge and one London university.

(28) Virtually every Conservative Cabinet Minister of the 1955–64 period who did not remain in active politics has since received a peerage (private W. L. Guttsman).

(29) A lower age of Cabinet entry does not, it should be repeated, necessarily imply younger Cabinets—it may just mean longer Cabinet careers.

(30) Again, this figure includes many women MPs counted more than once if re-elected. This probably leads to exaggeration of the post-1945 proportion since, in this period of relatively stable party fortunes, the chances of re-election have improved.

(31) Mrs. B. Castle (Lab. 1964–1970), Mrs. J. Hart (Lab. 1967–1969), and Mrs. M. Thatcher (Cons. 1970-). This trio provides an interesting comparison with their 3 predecessors who were similarly split between the parties (see above, n. 15). None of the first three were married or attended university; all of the latter three are married and attended university, two of them at Oxford.

(32) In the nine Conservative constituency parties examined by Rush, (op. cit. p. 62)Google Scholar women provided between 50 and 60% of the total membership, with 55% the overall average.

(33) i.e. 23.2% of all trade union members. Between 1951 and 1968 the increasein the number of unionised women more than accounted for the total increase in overall trade union membership (Central Statistical Office, Social Trends (H.M.S.O.), No. 1, 1970, p. 75Google Scholar).

(34) Rush, , op. cit. pp. 222–3Google Scholar.

(35) Rush also found an almost universal preference for married over single women as candidates (ibid. p. 64), a preference which strongly discriminates in favour of the minority of women with the happy combination of the means and ability to manage a husband and family while struggling without pay to establish themselves as successful candidates.

(36) Butler, and Pinto-Duschinsky, , op. cit. p. 302Google Scholar.

(37) Rush, , op. cit. p. 81Google Scholar.

(38) Roth, A., The Business Background of MPs (London, Parliamentary Profiles, 1972)Google Scholar.

(39) It is not clear whether Roth includes past or only present business interests. I have assumed he includes both; if not, then all figures cited should be much higher.

(40) Ibid. p. 181.

(41) Ibid. p. 203.

(42) Rhodes, G. W., Co-operative-Labour Relations, 1900–1962 (Co-operative College Papers, No. 8, Loughborough, 1962, p. 111–2 (author's italics)Google Scholar. Cited by Rush, pp. 203–4. Mr. Rhodes is understandably enthusiastic about a policy of which he himself has been a beneficiary (he is a graduate and lecturer).

(43) Safe seats rather than seats with union sponsorship were studied because union sponsorship is a very variable quantity, in some cases of overwhelming importance, in others of merely token significance.

(44) There are other reasons why most working class MPs make late political starts: it takes longer to achieve prominence in manual or white-collar employment than it does in the liberal professions; working-class communities are often very conscious of hierarchy in terms of seniority—in an otherwise scantily differentiated community age is the most obvious principle of social organisation; where education is thinly spread the emphasis placed on length of experience is often greater; nominating someone as an MP is both a way of pensioning them off and “kicking them upstairs” from (more important) trade union roles. For the retire ment age effectively enforced on sponsored MPs by most major unions, see Rush, , op. cit. pp. 161–2Google Scholar.

(45) The Liverpool (Scotland) constituency provides an extreme example of what may occur in an inner-city area. D. Logan was elected here in 1929 at the age of 58 and sat until his death, aged 93, in 1964. He was General Secretary of the Pawnbrokers' Assistants' Approved Society—hardly a major union interest.

(46) Butler, D. and Freeman, J., op. cit. p. 211Google Scholar. My percentile calculations. The 1972 figure is an estimate.

(47) Such links have been severed quite recently. D. Grenfell (first elected 1922), who had worked as a miner as a boy of 12 in 1893, sat in Parliament until 1959. E. Shinwell (MP 1922–70) had a somewhat similar career and retired aged 86. Both men reached their majority before the foundation of the Labour Party.

(48) To take an extreme example: in 1970, in a seat adjacent to that formerly held by Mr. Shinwell (see above, n. 53), D. Reed, aged 25, was elected. Should Reed last as long as Shinwell, he would retire in 2031…

(49) Wood, D., in The Times, 29 03 1971Google Scholar.

(50) Keesing's Contemporary Archives, 2 July 1968, p. 227–75. One need not accept Mr. Gunter (a former official of the Transport and Salaried Staffs Association) in his calculaself-cast role as tribune of the people. As Minister of Labour he had been principally concerned in holding down wages as part of the government's incomes policy, and had played a notable part in breaking the 1966 seamen's strike. His resignation was occasioned by a Cabinet re-shuffle in which he was dropped from 7th to 16th rank. Although he spoke of “returning to the folk from whence I came”, in fact he became a director of Securicor Ltd.

(51) The most notable spokesmen for this group have been Mr. Jones, the TGWU General Secretary and the former Ministers, Messrs. Crosland and Crossman. Ironically, their efforts seem to have been aided in several recent nomination contests by the strong disinclination of many CLPS to select men who held Ministerial rank in the 1964–70 government.

(52) Rose, loc. cit.

(53) Baumann, Z., Between Class and Elite (Manchester, Manchester University Press, 1972), pp. 318–22Google Scholar.

(54) They will not be easy to find, though, particularly given the Conservative habit of reserving to just such men (A. Robens, R. Marsh, G. Thomson) tempting offers of appointment to major extra-parliamentary posts. Labour has not, of course, had a working class leader since 1931, but until recently there has always been a Bevin Morrison, Bevan or Brown in second position. No such figures were in contention for the Deputy Leadership in 1970–72. Instead, the contenders (Messrs. Foot, Wedgwood-Benn, Jenkins and Short) were all graduates, the first three from Oxford, The hopes of the Left were vested in the first two: one a baronet's son, the other a former viscount.

(55) Bain, G. S. et al. , The Labour Force, in Halsey, A. M. (ed.), Trends in British Society since 1900 (London, Macmillan, 1972), Table 4.1, p. 113Google Scholar.

(56) Rush, , op. cit. pp. 228–9Google Scholar.

(57) Ibid. p. 183.

(58) Roth, A. and Kerbey, J., Ths MPs' Chart and the MP's Gallery (London, Parliamentary Profiles, 1971)Google Scholar. See esp. pp. 1–4.

(59) Rush, , op. cit. p. 210Google Scholar.

(60) Ibid. p. 246.

(61) B. 1886; entered the pits in 1898; matriculated from the coalface to a degree from the University of Wales; returned to trade union work in the mines; Labour MP 1934–72 for an impregnable Welsh mining seat, left-wing rebel, expelled from party in 1970.

(62) (The 5th Marquess of Salisbury) b. 1893; Eton; Christ Church, Oxford; Grenadier Guards officer; a banker 1919–29; Conservative MP 1929–41; in Cabinet 1940–45, 1951–57. Conservative Leader in the House of Lords 1941–57; after 1957 matriculated from the coalface to a degree leader of right-wing rebels.

(63) The biographical data above is all taken from Roth, and Kerbey, , op. cit. p. 3Google Scholar.

(64) As has been obvious at Party Confer ences where, increasingly, factions crys tallise, real debates take place, motions are passed and even (occasionally) the platform is defeated. A meritocratic leadership cannot depend on traditional deference—but it can and does push the Cabinet aristocrats forward to defend the most exposed positions.

(65) Co-option to the Cabinet from outside Parliament, or even immediately subsequent to an MP's election, is exceedingly rare. It is a nice comment on the dominance of the liberal professions within both the Labour party—the “Workers' party”, and the Conservatives—the “party of business”, that the two recent exceptions to this rule (Messrs. Cousins and Davies in side Parliament, or even immediately 1964 and 1970, respectively) involved the co-option of leading representatives of labour and capital.

(66) Since this was written, just such a case has been drawn to my attention in a Durham seat.

(67) The Times, 7 Dec. 1971. Emphasis added.