Abstract
It probably all started with my father. He came from a respectable working-class family in the East End of London, won a scholarship to a grammar school in the First World War, and left it at 16 to work in a commercial firm. Two things stand out. First, listening with him to the Brains Trust around the end of the Second World War and sharing some of his intellectual excitement, if not his grasp of the arguments, as the philosopher C.E.M. Joad and his co-discussants unpicked the latest theory of the nature of time or wrestled with the justification of democracy. And second, during the general election campaign of 1945, his going out at night to paint ‘Vote Labour’ slogans on the local roads.
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