Jimmy Reid and the public library: an education like no other

Jimmy Reid was laid to rest last week. The obituaries have been plentiful and praising. As someone who is interested in the industrial history of Britain, I have always been especially interested in the industrial heritage of my home town of Glasgow (as well as my adopted home of Liverpool), and my special interest in Glasgow shipbuilding made Jimmy Reid's passing all the more sad...

Poster of shipyard workers at Titan. Image: G.Macgregor, CC rights.

The size of shipbuilding on the Clyde back in the glory days is today unimaginable. Several industrial cities in the UK had shipyards, Merseyside included; but just as Liverpool eclipsed all other cities as a port in the Victorian period, so Glasgow and the Clyde eclipsed all others in shipbuilding during the same era, producing 30,000 ships during 19th and 20th centuries. This equated to a third of all ships in the entire world, more than all the shipyards in Britain combined. It's a staggering statistic and earned Glasgow the title of "shipbuilding capital of the world".

I recently visited the former site of John Brown & Company Shipbuilders. The builder of choice for Cunard Line, John Brown was one of the 40 shipyards that prospered on the Clyde and produced some of the most famous vessels the world has ever seen. The Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth, the Lusitania, the Aquitania, the Britannia, HMS Hood, the QE2 – they were all built there. And although it's been turned into an excellent tourist attraction with the help of EU funding, it remains a tragically haunting place. 100 hectares of open space. The largest of the slipways remain, upon which the QE2 would have been launched into the Clyde for fitting out. The classic Titan cantilever crane has been restored too, giving a tiny glimpse of the scale and sheer majesty of the vessels being built at the yard. But it was in the final years of the 'good times' at the shipyards that Jimmy Reid grew up.

RMS Queen Mary at Long Beach, California, now serving as a museum and hotel. Image: WPPilot, Wikimedia Commons, CC rights.

Reid was many things in his time, including a trade unionist, communist, Labour Party member, journalist and Rector of the University of Glasgow; however, he rose to international prominence in the early 1970s leading the Upper Clyde Shipbuilders (UCS) 'work-in' at Govan, Glasgow. The good times were over for British heavy industry, and this included marine engineering on the Clyde too. Increasing competition from abroad and a lack of investment meant that the yards increasingly required a state subsidy to complete their orders. UCS had gone into receivership and the Conservative government (led by Edward Heath) had decided that UCS - itself an amalgamation of five major Clyde shipyards several years earlier - should operate without state subsidy. The removal of these subsidies would immediately extinguish at least 6,000 jobs. Rather than adopt traditional forms of industrial action (e.g. strikes, sit-ins, etc.), the union leadership - spearheaded by Reid - decided to stage a 'work-in'. The union leadership were determined to complete the existing order book of ships and complete them to their traditional high levels of craftsmanship. Only this way would they dispel the myth of the 'work-shy' shipbuilder; only this way would they demonstrate their superior work ethic, project the best image to the British public, and demonstrate the viability of the yards. Said Reid famously, when addressing the shipyard workers:

"We are not going to strike. We are not even having a sit-in strike. Nobody and nothing will come in and nothing will go out without our permission. And there will be no hooliganism, there will be no vandalism, there will be no bevvying because the world is watching us, and it is our responsibility to conduct ourselves with responsibility, and with dignity, and with maturity."

This unique industrial action had integrity and was successful in the short-term, attracting international attention, sympathy and financial support (most notably from John Lennon and Yoko Ono). It is also why BAE Systems today have two ex-UCS yards on the Clyde, currently building the brand new high-end Type 45 Destroyers for the Royal Navy. Ultimately though, shipbuilding in Glasgow and on the Clyde today is a shade of its former self.

Titan cantilever crane at the former John Brown shipyard, Clydebank. Image: G.Macgregor, CC. rights

Jimmy Reid was born into a shipbuilding family. He left school at the age of 14 and pursued an apprenticeship in shipyard engineering. Despite leaving school with the minimum education possible, Reid went on to become one of the most talented political figures, orators, political thinkers and political leaders in British politics. He was fascinated by politics, reading about it constantly and studying political texts in the local public library almost every day. Sir Alex Ferguson – always astonished at Reid's knowledge - said at Reid's funeral:

"Our education was football, his education was the Govan library. He was never out of there."

Public libraries are often considered "the people's university". When Reid was made Rector of the University of Glasgow, "pompous" academics would ask which university he attended, to which Reid would reply: "Govan Library"! The public library moulded Reid, provided an education like no other and helped him develop an intellect which Sir Michael Parkinson described as "formidable". Reid personified the public library mission of education and lifelong learning available to all, regardless of age, skill level, or ability to pay. I have many issues with the running of public libraries today (some of which I might discuss in a future blog), but their importance in creating people like Jimmy Reid across Britain, and elsewhere in the world, can never be forgotten. And I'm not necessarily talking about people of Reid's political persuasion; but the importance of providing fantastic opportunities for education, enlightenment and betterment – and escape. The wealth of the Govan area during its shipbuilding heyday is reflected in its public buildings. The magnificent Town Hall, for example, with its neo-classical decoration, overlooking the quasi-futuristic architecture of Glasgow's redeveloped waterfront (and now used as a recording HQ for Franz Ferdinand). And Govan Public Library (or Elder Park Library as it is officially known) is no exception; a beautiful Victorian listed building situated within Elder Park. What a great location to build a public library; inviting local residents to escape the noise and dirt of shipbuilding and marine engineering to enjoy its salubrious surroundings and architectural splendour while reading an improving book! The Victorians had style - and they recognised the importance of the public library as an institution.

Elder Park Library, front elevation. Image: mike.thomson75.

It is a dangerous time for public libraries. Because they are such established institutions, people often take for granted that they will always exist, come rain or shine. Yet, the role of public libraries as the people's university remains as important as ever, not only to promote social inclusion and enable vulnerable people in society to engage with civil society, but providing opportunities for lifelong learning in dire economic circumstances. If some should go, where will the Jimmy Reids of tomorrow go? Some will argue that the increased penetration of broadband (circa 65%) makes some public libraries dispensable, but what about the remaining 35%, or those that are suddenly made redundant and can no longer afford their broadband bill? Where do they go if they want to develop knowledge in a particular discipline, or learn about IT? And just because someone has broadband does not mean that they can get access to all the information they might require (bibliographic databases?), or that the information will be any good. The Telegraph reckons Jimmy Reid's life would make a great biopic. I agree, so long as the splendour of Elder Park Library is maintained and we have plenty clips of Jimmy perusing the book stacks.