1950s UNIT

Supplemental
Readings
Civics 500
**NOTE: These are supplemental readings for our unit. You will still need to read assigned sections
of The Unfinished journey by William Chafe (see class calendar).
TOPIC 3: Prosperity of the 1950s- EQ: Why do you think most Americans enjoyed a level
of prosperit that their ancestors could have only dreamed about? How might this affuence
impact the future of American societ?
Read: Chafe Ch. 5 pages 111-122; Read assigned perspective from "The Suburbs-The
American Dream" packet-prepare 5 key points from the reading in your notebook and
come prepared to present your side.
Read ONLY your assigned section:
A The New American Dream (1953)- Harry Henderson
B. The New American Nightmare (1956)- John Keats
TOPIC 4: Family Life/Popular Culture During the 1950s- EQ: To what extent is family
lie today similar to that of the 1950s? To what extent is it a departure?
Read: Chafe Ch. 5 pages (123-128)
Come prepared to discuss-highlight and comment on the following primary
sources:
Source 1: "Life Magazine Identifies the New Teen-age Market"
Source 2: "Newsweek Decries the Problem of Dangerous Teens"
Respond to essential question-be sure to incorporate ideas from each of the
packets.
Topic 5: TV & Popular Culture- To what extent is 1950s popular culture an accurate
refection of 1950s society and its values?
Read: Chafe Chapter 5(128-146)-TV and Popular Culture;
Source A - "Leave it to Beaver and Ozzie and Harriet"
Source B - "US News and World Report Assesses the Perils of Mass Culture and
Evils of Television"
After reading these sources, respond to the essential question by incorporating
ideas from all of the sources into your response.
Topic 6: Assessing the 1950s -Read: Were the 1950s America's Happy Days? YesjNo
Finish outline, come prepared to discuss this question, and present your projects -you will
receive a work ethic grade for your participation.
The Suburbs: The New American Dream (1953)
Harry Henderson (b. 1914)
Between 1945 and 1960, 40 million Americans migrated fom the cities to the
suburbs. Spuned by govemment programs designed to encourage home ownership,
developers created whole new communities. Many developments, such as those by
builder William Levitt, consisted of row upon row of nearly identical mass-produced
homes. In the following viewpoint, joumalist Harry Henderson examines the lives of
people living in these "Levittowns" and other suburban areas. The article, frst published
in Harper's Magazine in November 1953, offers a mixed but generally positive portrayal
of American suburbia.
Excerpted from "The Mass-Produced Suburbs" by Han-y Henderson, Harper's Magazine, November 1953. Copyright 1953 by HmTy
Henderson. Reprinted by permission of the William Monis Agency, Inc., on behalf of the author.
What attractions do the new suburbs have for the people living in them, according
to Henderson? What generalizations does he make about the economic and social
situation of these suburban residents? What does he find most appealing about this fonn
of suburban life?
Since World War II, whole new towns and small cities, consisting of acres of
near-identical Cape Cod and ranch-type houses, have been bulldozed into existence on
the outskirts of America's major cities. Begun as "veterans' housing," and still commonly
called "projects," these new communities differ radically from the older urban areas
whose slow, cumulative growth depended on rivers and railroads, raw materials or
markets, industries and available labor. They also differ from the older suburbs which
were built around existing villages. These new communities are of necessity built on
open fam1land-to house people quickly, cheaply, and profitably. They refect not only
the increased number of young American families, but an enom1ous expansion of the
middle class via the easy credit extended to veterans.
The best known of these communities, Levittown, Long Island [New York], is
also the largest; its population is now estimated at 70,000. Lakewood, near Long Beach
in the Los Angeles area, is a close second. Park Forest, some thirty miles south of
Chicago-which has signifcant qualitative differences from the others, in that its social
character was as conscientiously planned as its physical layout-now has 20,000 people
and will have 30,000 when completed. No one knows exactly how many of these postwar
cmmnunities exist in all. The Federal Home and Housing Authority, which insured
motigages for nearly all the houses, has no records in terms of communities or even large
developments. However, one can safely assume that their combined population totals
several million people.
These communities have none of the long-festering social problems of older
towns, such as slums, crowded streets, vacant lots that are both neighborhood dumps and
playgrounds, or sagging, neon-fonted business distticts that sprawl in all directions.
Instead everything is new. Dangerous traffc intersections are almost unknown. Grassy
play areas abound. Shops are centrally located and under one roof, at least theoretically,
with adjacent off-street parking.
Socially, these communities have neither history, tradition, nor established
structure-no inerited customs, institutions, "socially imp01iant" families, or "big
houses." Everybody lives in a "good neighborhood"; there is, to use that classic American
euphemism, no "wrong side of the tracks." Outwardly, there are neither rich nor poor, and
initially there were no older people, teen-agers, in-laws, family doctors, "big shots,"
churches, organizations, schools, or local goverments. Since the builder required a large
cheap site, the mass-produced suburbs are usually located at the extreme edge of the
c01mnuting radius. This means they are economically dependent on the big city, without
local industry to provide employment and share tax burdens.
Studying the Suburbs
Tlrree years ago I began a series of extensive visits to these new communities to
leam what effect this kind of housing and social organization has on people. I was
particularly interested in what customs developed, what groups became important, what
attitudes and ways of handling problems were created. I wanted to know, for instance,
how people made friends, how you became a "big shot," and how life in these towns
differed from that of our older towns.
The notes below are an attempt to describe what I found out, a rep01ier's report on
a new generation's version of the "American way." Thev are based on interviews and my
own observations in six such conmmnities, including Levittown and Park Forest. While
each community is different, ce1iain common pattems exist, although their strength varies
in accordance with two factors: screening and size.
Screening-or the selection of people by fxed criteria-obviously affects the
economic, social, and cultural life. Where screening is based on something more than the
ability to make a down payment, the population tends to become a narrow, specialized,
upper stratum of the middle class. Size affects the community in another way. The
construction of ffty or a hundred new homes on a common plot immediately beside a
suburb of 5,000 merely results in their becoming pmi of that community, adopting its
social structure. But when the number of new homes is many times larger than the old,
both problems, and new ways of living emerge with greater force. (However, even in
small projects some new pattems are present.)
These notes are, of course, subjective and as such liable to personal distortion.
Valid statistical data- because of the sh01i time people stay put in these towns, plus a
host of other factors-are simply beyond the reach of one man. But, for whatever they
are w01ih, here they are.
Companionship
At first glance, regardless of variations in trim, color, and position of the houses,
they seem monotonous; nothing rises above two stories, there are no full-grown trees, and
the horizon is an endless picket fence of telephone poles and television aerials. (The
mass builder seeks fat land because it cuts his construction costs.)
However one may feel about it aesthetically, this puts the emphasis on people and
their activities. One rarely hears complaints about the identical character of the houses.
"You don't feel it when you live here," most people say. One mother, a Midwestem
college graduate with two children, told me: "We're not peas in a pod. I thought it would
be like that, especially because incomes are nearly the same. But it's amazing how
different and varied people are, likes and dislikes, attitude and wants. I never really knew
what people were like until I came here. "
Since no one can acquire prestige through an imposing house, or inherited
position, activity-the participation in community or group affairs-becomes the basis of
prestige. In addition, it is the quickest way to meet people and make friends. In
communities of strangers, where everybody realizes his need for companionship, the first
year is apt to witness almost frantic participation in all lands of activities. Later, as
friends are made, this tapers off somewhat.
The standardized house also creates an emphasis on interior decorating. Most
people try hard to achieve "something different. " In hundreds of houses I never saw two
interiors that matched-and I saw my first tiger-striped wallpaper. (The only item that is
endlessly repeated is a brass skillet hung on a red brick wall. ) Yet two styles
predominate: Early American and Modem. What is rarely seen, except in homes of older
than-average people, is a family heirloom.
Taste levels are high. My interviews with wives revealed that their models and
ideas came primarily from pictures of rooms in national magazines. Nobody copies an
entire room, but they take different items from different pictures. At first most women
said, "Well, moving into a new house, you want everything new. " Later some altered this
explanation, saying, "Nearly evetybody is new .. .. I mean, they are newly married and
new to the community. They don't feel too cetiain about things, especially moving into a
place where everyone is a stranger. If you've seen something in a magazine-well, people
will nearly always like it. " So manv times were remarks of this character repeated that I
concluded that what many sought in their fumiture was a kind of" approval insurance. "
Asked whom they missed most, women usually replied, "My mother. " Men's
answers were scattered, apt to be old friends, neighbors, relatives. Many women said; "I
wish there was some place close by to walk to, like the candy store in the city. Just some
place to take the kids to buy a cone or newspaper in the aftemoon. It helps break up the
monotony of the day. " They considered the centrally located shopping centers too distant
for such outings.
Because these communities were built from scratch, they afforded a degree of
planning impossible in our older cities, and-depending on the builder's foresight and
awareness of social problems-advantage was taken of this. Plarmers solved complex
problems in trafic fow, space anangement, play areas, heating problems, site locations
to provide sunlight, and kitchen trafc. But nobody thought about dogs.
Dogs in Suburbia
The people in these conuunities have generally escaped from crowded city
apariments. Their 50 x 100-foot plot seems to them to be the size of a ranch. One of their
first acts is to buy a dog, on the theory that "it's good for the children, " an old idea in
American family folklore, and to tum the dog loose. Usually the people know nothing
about dogs or their training. Theoretically, the dog is the children's responsibility;
generally they are too young to handle it.
The result is that the dogs form great packs which race tluough the area, knocking
down small boys and girls, wrecking gardens and fower beds, and raising general hell.
Then people t1y tying them up; the dogs owl and bark until no one can stand it. Locked
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up inside the house, they are a constant worry, and charge out to bite the mailmen and
deliverymen. In one community thirteen mailmen were bitten in one summer.
Dogs, along with children, are the greatest cause of tension within a block. In
Park Forest, outside Chicago, dogs were fnally voted out of the 3,000 unit rental area in
the bitterest, hottest, meanest, most tearful fght in that community's history. But they are
permitted in the private-home area because our conception of private property includes
the right to own a dog even though he may be the damnedest nuisance in the world. One
can hardly describe the emotions aroused by dogs in these conununities. One man told
me he had bought his dog simply "because I am damn sick and tired of my neighbor's dog
yapping all night. I just want to give them a taste of what it's like."
Suburban Populations
The populations differ strikingly from those of the older towns. The men's ages
average 31 years; the women's about 26. Incomes fall somewhere between $4,000 and
$7,000 yearly, although incomes in excess of this can be found everywhere. Their homes
cost between $7,000 and $12,000. Roughly 90 per cent of the men are veterans. Their
major occupational classifications are managers, professionals, salesmen, skilled workers,
and small business men. Most communities also have sizable numbers of transient army
families.
Buying or renting a home in one of these communities is, of course, a fonn of
economic and personal screening. As a result, there are no poor, no Negroes; and, as
conununities, these contain the best educated people in America. In Park Forest, where
the screening was intensive, more than 50 per cent of the men and 25 per cent of the
women are college graduates; the local movie theater survives by showing Westems for
the kids in the aftemoon and foreign "ati films" for the adults in the evening.
Initially, city-bred women, accustomed to the constant sights and sounds of other
people, suffer greatly from loneliness, especially if their children are as yet unbom. One
woman expressed it this way: "Your husband gets up and goes off in the moming-and
you're left with the day to spend. The housework is a matter of minutes. I used to think
that I had been brought to the end of the earth and dese1ied." Another said, "I used to sit
by the window . . . just wishing someone would go by."
Generally this disappears as friends are made and children appear. Today most
communities have "older" (by several years) residents who make real effort to help
newcomers overcome their "newness."
Hardware stores rep01i their biggest selling item year-round is floor wax. "Honest
to God," said one store manager, "I think they eat the stuff"
The daily pattem of household life is govemed by the husband's commuting
schedule. It is entirely a woman's day because virtually every male commutes. Usually
the men must leave between 7:00 and 8:00 A.M.; therefore they rise between 6:00 and
7:00 A.M. In most cases the wife rises with her husband, makes his breakfast while he
shaves, and has a cup of coffee with him. Then she often retums to bed until the children
get up. The husband is not likely to be back before 7:00 or 7:30P.M.
Domestic Life
This leaves the woman alone all day to cope with the needs of the children, her
housekeeping, and shopping. (Servants, needless to say, are unknown.) When the
husband retums, he is generally tired, both from his work and his traveling. (Three hours
a day is not uncommon; perhaps the most widespread dream of the men is a job nearer to
the community, and they often make eamest eff01is to fnd it.) Often by the time the
husband retums the children are ready for bed. The husband helps put them to bed; as
they grow older, they are allowed to stay up later. Then he and his wife eat their supper
and wash the dishes. By 10:00 P.M. most lights are out.
For the women this is a long, monotonous daily proposition. Generally the men,
once home, do not want to leave. They want to "relax" or "improve the property "-putter
around the lawn or shrubbery. However, the women want a "change." Thus, groups of
women often go to the movies together.
Usually both husband and wife are involved in some group activity and have
meetings to go to. A frequent complaint is: "We never get time to see each other "; or,
"We merely pass coming and going." On the one occasion when I was refused an
interview, the husband said, "Gee, I'd like to help, but I so seldom get a chance to see my
wife for a whole evening .... I'd rather not have the inte1ruption."
Many couples credit television, which simultaneously eased baby-sitting,
entertaimnent, and financial problems, with having brought them closer. Their favorites
are comedy shows, especially those about young couples, such as I Love Lucy. Though
often contemptuous of many programs, they speak of TV gratefully as "something we
can share," as "bringing the romance back." Some even credit it with having "saved our
maniage." One wife said: "Until we got that TV set, I thought my husband had forgotten
how to neck."
These are the first towns in America where the impact of TV is so concentrated
that it literally affects everyone's life. Organizations dare not hold meetings at hours
when popular shows are on. In addition, it tends to bind people together, giving the whole
community a common experience.
The Coffee Klatsch is an institution everywhere. A kind of foating, day-long
talkfest, shifting from house to house, it has developed among young women to help fill
their need for adult conversation and companionship. The conversation is strictly
chitchat. One woman described is as "Just small talk ... about what's new ... about
whose kid is sick ... and then about who is apt to get sick." Yet many women complain
there is "too much talk," and some are very critical of the gregariousness.
New Lifestyles
When people moved into these conununities, they shed many of their parents' and
their home-town customs. For instance, slacks or shorts are standard wear for both men
and women at all times, including trips to the shopping center. Visiting grandparents
invariably are shocked and whisper: "Why, nobody dresses around here!" ...
Gone also are most rituals and ceremonies. If you want to know someone, you
introduce yourself; there is no waiting for the "right people." You "drop in " without
phoning. If you have an idea that will solve some problem, you immediately call up
everybody concemed. One result is that, generally speaking, there is less lag than
elsewhere between an idea and "getting something done," which may be anything from
organizing a dance to getting a stop sign for your comer.
The attitude toward pregnancy is unusually casual. Because it is so common,
pregnancy is regarded more objectively and refened to in tenns that would seem
outlandish in older communities. It is ofen called "our major industry"; or someone will
say, "That's the Levittown Look," or "It must be the water; you don't see any men
around." . . .
A marked feeling of transience pervades everything from shopping to fiendships.
This feeling reflects both optimism and uncertainty, and it encourages a tendency to seek
expedient solutions. For instance, the question of whether or not one plans to spend his
life there is shunted aside-optimistically. This has serious effects on school and town
govemment problems.
The uncertainty stems, as one young salesman expressed it, from the fact that
"you just don't know-whether you'll make the grade, whether the company will transfer
you, whether you'll be getting along with your wife five years from now, whether the
neighbors will move out and monsters will move in. So you hesitate to sink deep roots."
In general, optimism prevails over uncertainty. Many-a majority, I would say
consider this merely their "frst" house. They insist that they are young, and they
confdently look forward to owning a $15,000 to $20,000 house some day.
Interestingly, while most look upon their present house as a "temporary deal,"
because "under the GI-Bill owning is cheaper than renting," the most mihodox and
conservative views prevail conceming property and home ownership. There is more talk
about property values than you would hear in older towns and much effmi is put into
"making the place look like something." This may mean the addition of fences, garage,
patio, etc. A standard proud comment is: "We could walk out of this place with $1,000
profit tomonow."
Actual transience is high. Business transfers and increased incomes are its major
causes. As a result, there is a fourishing business in the resale of houses. In one
community where I interviewed twelve families in one block three years ago, all but four
have since moved. From the remaining families I leamed that the removals had nearly all
been due to increased incomes which pem1itted more expensive homes. Others had
moved to cut commuting time or because of company transfers. Unfortunately, no over
all statistics on transience exist.
"The people who live in these
communities are for the most
part enthusiastic about them."
The replacements for departed families are often older, 45 to 50 being the average
age of the men. Their goal is the $7,000 to $12,000 house. More certain of what they can
and will do, they are less anxious about "success," and financially not so hard pressed.
Having resided in older towns, they like these new cmru1mnities because of their
friendliness and optimism. "The older towns are dead," said one small business man who
is typical of this group.
Usually these "second generation" people have teen-age children and, in
interviews, they emphasized the absence of "bad neighborhoods" and ample play areas as
reasons for moving. Many also liked the idea that economically everyone is in the same
class. One father, a skilled aviation worker, said, "Where we used to live we had both
rich and very poor. Our girls were caught in the middle because the rich lads dressed
better and hung out together, and the poor kids dressed poorer and hung out together.
They were nobody's fiiend, while here they are everybody's fiend. I'd say they are
happier than they ever were."
Except for Park Forest, none of the communities I visited has a local police force.
Yet crime can hardly be said to exist-probably the most spectacular aspect of these new
towns. In one conununity with 15,000 people the crime record amounted, in two years to
6 burglary cases, 35 larceny cases, 13 assault cases (husband-wife rows), and 6 disorderly
conduct cases. Typically, the communities are patrolled by existing county and township
police, who repmi their only major problems are traffic and lost children.
Crime in Suburbia
Even Levittown, with 70,000 people not far fom New York's turbulent, scheming
underworld, has virtually no crime. According to the Nassau County police, who studied
one year's record, it had no murders, robberies, or auto thefts during that period; an
average city of that size during the same period would have had 4 murders, 3 robberies,
and 149 auto thefts.
Levittown had 3 assault cases, 16 burglaries, and 200 larceny cases while
comparable cities averaged 73 assault cases, 362 burglaries, and 942 larcenies. Larceny
in Levittown was mainly bicycle stealing. (Since these statistics were gathered, the FBI
has caught a Levittowner who planned a payroll robbery and a young mother, later
adjudged insane, has asphyxiated her two small children.)
Police attribute this lack of crime to the fact that nearly all the men were
honorably discharged from the anned services and subjected to a credit screening. This,
they say, "eliminated the criminal element and riff-raff." Some police ofcials included
the absence of slums and disreputable hang-outs as causes. Personally, I felt many more
factors were involved, including the absence of real pove1iy; the strong ties of family,
religious, and organizational activities; steady employment; and the absence of a
restrictive, fustrating social structure.
Family Economics
Every family operates, or tries to operate, under a budget plan. Most families
report their living standards have been raised by moving into the community. There is
almost constant self-scolding because living costs outrun the budget. The shining goal:
economic security. The word "success" is on everyone's lips and "successful people" are
those who advance economically.
Most families report it costs a minimum of between $ 100 and $150 a month to
live in these communities. While the rent or mortgage payment may come to only $65 or
$75 monthly, other expenses-commuting, garbage, water, utilities-push the total much
higher. In addition, distances to the shopping center and commuting stations vi1iually
require a car and all its expenses.
If the axiom, "a week's pay for a months rent," is applied, it is obvious that many
families are barely making ends meet and some are having real difficulty. Typical
conm1ents on their economic situation: "We're just like everyone else here-broke," or,
"We're all in the same boat, economically. Just getting by, I'd say." I estimated the
average man's income fiom his regular job to be under $ 100 a week.
Where screening was based only on ability to make the down payment rather than
ability to pay, you often fnd a sizable number of men seeking supplementary work:
weekend clerking in stores; finishing attics; door-to-door selling. In one community a
man who acts as a clearing house for jobs told me: "I'd say that 50 per cent of these
people are rmming on their nerve. One winter of sickness would knock them out." A
great number of women whose children have reached school age seek work, but it is hard
to find and pays less than they were used to eaming in the city. I talked to a night taxi
driver in one community whose job stemmed from his children's illnesses. This
supplementary work left him only six hours between jobs. It was rough, he admitted, " ...
but I figure it's worth it to have the kids here. I couldn't stand taking them back to the
city. I'll get these bills cleaned up yet."
In addition, the economic pinch is relieved in some families by subsidies from
parents. "There are a fair percentage of them who are still leaning on Mama and Papa,"
one store proprietor said. "I know because I cash their checks." In other cases the pressure
is relieved by "doubling up." This seldom means two young families in one house;
usually the "doubling up" is with in-laws, who share expenses. Technically this produces
substandard housing; the people involved regard this as nonsense. No stigma is attached
to the practice and many women expressed the wish to have their parents live with them,
mainly because they wanted companionship and guidance on child-raising ... .
Optimism
Both the individual and the community face these economic stresses with a
powerful, deep-seated optimism based on the conviction that they are just starting their
careers. The men sometimes say with a grim: "After all, this is only the first wife, first
car, frst house, first kids-wait till we get going." Though, in the long run, they measure
success in economic tem1s, people are frank about "being broke" and there is no stigma
attached to it by anyone, including families with larger incomes. "Money just doesn't cut
any ice around here," said one young engineer whose eamings put him in the $8,000-a
year class. "We've all been broke at one time or another. The important thing is, nobody
expects to stay broke." ...
Socially, the outstanding characteristic of these people is their friendliness,
wmmth, and lack of pretentious snobbery. Outgoing and buoyant, they are quick to
recognize common problems and the need for co-operation, one does not find the
indifference, coldness, and "closed doors" of a long-established community. There is
much casual "dropping in" and visiting from house to house which results in the sharing
of many problems and pleasures. Often the discussion of a few women over supper plans
will end up with four or fve families eating together. This may then lead to "fun," which
may be anything fom cards to "just talk" or "everybody trying to roller-skate, acting like
a bunch of kids." Nobody goes "out" often. Many report that, as a result of this pattem of
living, they "drink more often but get high less" than they used to. Drinking, it seemed to
me, had become much more of a social amenity and less of an emotional safety valve
than it is elsewhere.
Suburban Friendliness
This generalized, infom1al friendliness assumes so many fonns that it is a very
real part of everyone's life, replacing the thousand-skeined social structure of older
American towns. It explains why the people who live in these communities are for the
most pa1i enthusiastic about them. "Here, for the frst time in my life," one salesman said,
"I don't have to wony about my family when on the road. Here at least a dozen families
are constantly in touch with them and ready to help if anything goes wrong, whether it's
the car, the oil heater, or one of the kids getting sick. In Pittsburgh I had to rely on
scattered relatives who weren't in touch with my family more than once a week."
This is the big cushion which, while making life more enjoyable, protects the
inhabitants of the new suburbs and solves their minor problems. It absorbs irmmerable
small transportation needs, puts up TV aerials, repairs cars, finishes attics, and canies the
load of sudden emergencies. Nothing in these communities, to me, is more impressive
than this unifon pattem of casual but wan friendliness and cooperation.
The Suburbs: The New American Nightmare (1956)
John C. Keats (b. 1920)
Eighty-five percent of the 13 million homes built in the United States during the
1950s were in the suburbs-the areas just outside established towns and cities. These
fast-growing regions were the subject of much analysis-and criticism-by sociologists
and others studying American ways of life. The following viewpoint, excerpted from the
1956 book The Crack in the Picture Window by writer and social c1itic Jolm C. Keats,
provides a sharply satirical look at suburban life in the 1950s. A fonner newspaper
reporter, Keats has also written biographies of Howard Hughes and Dorothy Parker, and
has contributed articles to various magazines, including Esquire.
How important have federal govemment programs been to the growth of the
suburbs, according to Keats? Why are suburbs continuing to be built, in his view? How
do the opinions of both Keats and of sociologist Harold Mendelsolm (quoted in this
viewpoint) conceming suburban neighborliness differ from the views expressed by Han-y
Henderson, author of the opposing viewpoint?
Excerpted from The Crack in the Picture Window by John C. Keats; 1956 by John C. Keats. Reprinted by permission of Houghton
Mifin Company Inc.
For literally nothing down-other than a simple two per cent and a promise to
pay, and pay, and pay until the end of your life-you too ... can find a box of your own
in one of the fesh-air slums we're building around the edges of America's cities. There's
room for all in any price range, for even while you read this, whole square miles of
identical boxes are spreading like gangrene throughout New England, across the Denver
prairie, around Los Angeles, Chicago, Washington, New York, Miami-eve1-here. In
anyone of these new neighborhoods, be it in Hartford or Philadelphia, you can be certain
all other houses will be precisely like yours, inhabited by people whose age, income,
number of children, problems, habits, conversation, dress, possessions and perhaps even
blood type are also precisely like yours. In any one of these neighborhoods it is possible
to make enemies of the folks next door with unbelievable speed. If you buy a small
house, you are assured your children will leave you perhaps even sooner than they
should, for at once they will leam never to associate home with pleasure. In shmi, ladies
and gentlemen, we offer here for your inspection facts relative to today's housing
developments- developments conceived in enor, nmiured by greed, conoding
eve1ything they touch. They destroy established cities and trade pattems, pose dangerous
problems for the areas they invade, and actually drive mad myriads of housewives shut
up in them.
These facts are well known to responsible economists, sociologists, psychiatrists,
city managers and bankers, and ce1iainly must be suspected by the people who live in the
suburban developments, yet there's no end in sight to the construction. Indeed,
Washington's plam1ers exult whenever a contractor vomits up fve thousand new houses
on a rural tract that might better have remained in hay, for they see in this little besides
thousands of new sales of labor, goods and services. Jobs open for an army of bulldozer
operators, carpenters, plasterers, plumbers, electricians, well-diggers, bricklayers, truck
drivers, foremen and day laborers. Then come the new householders, followed by their
needs. A shopping center a11d supennarket are huniedly built, and into this pours another
mmy of clerical and sales personnel, butchers, bakers, janitors, auto dealers,
restaurateurs, waitresses, door-to-door salesmen, mail carriers, rookie cops, firemen,
schoolteachers, medicine men of various degrees-the whole mck and stew of
civilization's auxiliaries. Thus with every new development, jobs are bom, money is
eamed, money is spent, and pretty soon everyone can afford a new television set, and
Washington calls this prosperity.
That such prosperity is entirely material, possibly temporary and perhaps even
illusory, causes little concem at present. ...
The GI Bill
Let's step back in time to consider the history of today's housing developments:
The first good intentions which pave our modem Via Dolorosa were laid at war's
end. Conscious of the fact that some 13,000,000 young men risked disfigurement,
dismembe1ment and death in circumstances not of their choosing, a grateful nation
decided to show its appreciation to the survivors. The GI Bill of Rights was enacted, and
one of the miicles provided an incentive for bankers to assume low-interest mortgages on
houses purchased by veterans. The deal was, the bankers could recover a ce1iain
guaranteed sum fom the govemment in event of the veteran's default. The real-estate
boys read the Bill, looked at one another in happy amazement, and the dry, rasping noise
they made rubbing their hands together could have been heard as far away as Tawi Tawi.
Immediately, thanks to modem advertising, movable type, radio, television and other
marvels, the absurdity was spread-and is still spread-that the veteran should own his
home.
There was never the slightest justifcation for this nonsense. Never in the last 180
years of United States history was there an indication that a young man entering civil life
fom childhood or war should thereupon buy a house.
Young People Should Be Mobile
It is and has always been the nature of young people to be mobile. Rare indeed is
the man whose life is a straight arrows-fight from the classroom to the job he'll hold until
he dies. Many a retiring corporate officer put in his early years driving a bread tmck, then
had a fling at a little unsuccessful business of his own, then wandered into the door-to
door sale of cemetery lots before catching on at the buttonworks he was one day to direct.
Owning property implies a certain pem1anence-precisely that quality a bright young
man should, and does, lack. A young man should be mobile until he fnds his proper path.
A man with a house is nailed to its floor.
The housing article in the GI Bill, however, opened vast vistas. Not only was
there a govemment guarantee to be had, but there was also land to be sold, and since the
veteran had been led both by private and goverent propaganda to believe he should
own his home, the remaining consideration in the hard, practical minds of the real-estate
men was how much house could be offered for how little money. Or, to put it in the more
usual way, how little house could be offered for how much money. Cost became the sole
criterion of the first postwar house, and the frst economy was in space.
--------
Tiny Homes
The typical postwar development operator was a man who figured how many
houses he could possibly cram onto a piece of land and have the local zoning board hold
still for it. Then he whistled up the bulldozers to knock down all the trees, bat the lumps
off the terrain, and level the ensuing desolation. Then up went the houses, one after
another, all alike, and none of those built imediately after the war had any more floor
space than a moderately-priced, two-bedroom apartment. The dining room, the porch, the
basement, and in many cases the attic, were dispensed with and disappeared fom the
American scene. The result was a little box on a cold concrete slab containing two
bedrooms, bath, and an eating space the size of a broom closet tucked between the living
room and the tiny kitchen. A nine-by-twelve rug spread across the largest room wall to
wall, and there was a sheet of plate glass in the living-room wall. That, the builder said,
was the picture window. The picture it framed was of the box across the treeless street.
The young Americans who moved into these cubicles were not, and are not, to know the
gracious dignity of living that their parents knew in the big two- and tluee-story family
houses set well back on grassy lawns off the shady streets of, say, Watertown, New York.
For them and their children, there would be only the box on its slab. The Cape Cod
Rambler had anived.
It was inevitable that the development house was looked upon as an expedient by
the young purchasers. It was most ce1iainly not the house of their dreams, nor was the
ready-made neighborhood a thing to make the soul sing. It was, simply, the only thing
available. They had no choice-they couldn't afford to build their house, nor were they
given a choice of architecture. Instead, they were offered a choice between a house they
didn't much want and the fantastic rents that bobbed to the surface as soon as the real
estate lobby torpedoed rent control. The development house was the only living space on
the market priced just within the means of the young veterans.
It is still a maxim with responsible land agents that you should never purchase a
home in which you do not intend to dwell for at least ten years. Moreover, they'll say, a
house in which you have no equity cmmot be considered an investment. Despite these
truths, houses were bought on the assumption they would serve only as brief campsites
on life's wilderess trail, and incredibly enough, the govenunent in the past two years has
given encouragement to this singular point of view. With govenm1ent blessing,
purchasers are now being advised that buying a new house is like buying a new car. Old
one too small for the growing family? Trade your old home in and buy a new one, the
govenunent suggests, meanwhile helping the developers to continue their di1iy work in
order that prosperity's bubble doesn't burst.
The first veterans' developments set a patter for the builders. They sold the first
houses like hotcakes, so they've been making hotcakes ever since. Todays new houses
differ from those of 1947 only insofar as the materials are better and the workmen have
now mastered their jobs. The basic living problems are unchanged-they're built 1ight in.
These problems will remain unchanged unless the whole construction pattem changes;
until a housing development becomes something more than just a lot of houses.
Problems of Housing Developments
First of all, a housing development cmmot be called a community, for that word
implies a balanced society of men, women and children wherein work and pleasure are
found and the needs of all the society's members are served. Housing developments offer
no employment and as a general rule lack recreational areas, churches, schools, or other
cohesive influences.
A second present and future national danger lies in the fact that developments are
creating stratifed societies of singular monotony in a nation whose triumph to date has
depended on its lack of a stratified society, on the diversity of its individuals. Yet today it
is possible to drive through the various developments that sunound one of our cities and
tell at a glance the differing social strata.
Here is the $10,000 development-two bedrooms, low-priced cars, average
income $75 a week after taxes, three children, average food budget $25 weekly; jobs vary
from bus driver to house painter. Here is the $13,950 house-three bedrooms, available
to foremen and successful newspapermen, medium-priced cars, two and a half children
per average home; men's shoes cost $12 to $20 at this level. Next is the $17,450 split
level, especially designed for split personalities, upper-medium cars; liquor bill is $25
weekly; inmates take fly-now-pay-later air rides to Europe.
The appearance of several square miles of new housing units in a once rural area
adjacent to a city nonally brings about a violent clash of interests.
The young new householders, conscious only of their unmet needs, are intolerant
of the political milieu they've invaded. Indeed, if there was any cohesive force acting on
typical development householders, it would be that of hatred. Well might they f01m a sort
of mutual loathing society where the frst target of their wrath is the builder, the second,
the community around them.
For its pmi, the invaded conununity eyes the newcomers with something less than
wild enthusiasm. The administrative problems handed a county government by the
sudden appearance of several thousand new families are enough to make a strong man
blench. And, when the guts of a city are deserted by a middle class that flocks to the
suburbs, the tax problems created for the city fathers are even more frightening ....
A Lack of True Community
The first and most imp01iant fact to realize about housing development neighbors
is that they are not really fiends. They can never be fiends; the best relationship they
can achieve with one another is a superficial acquaintance based on service needs. Harold
Mendelsol, American University sociologist, put it thus:
"In housing developments patters emerge which make for superficial
cohesiveness. It is entirely artificial, based on providing mutual conveniences, rather than
on a basis of friendship, or on a basis of fundamental needs. A wants a hammer. He
bonows one from B. If he is feuding with B, it makes no difference, he'll bonow one
from C. D and E get into a mutual baby-sitting agreement. There is a car pool. All these
are conveniences, just service needs. A man in a development has no need to socialize
with the other men; his socializing takes place in the city where he works. Therefore,
development men are apt to nod to one another, or bonow things fom one another, and
their relationships in bonowing hammers, say, are no deeper than the relationships you
have with the man who comes to fix the plumbing in a city apartment. The development
women socialize because they can't escape one another-they're always out on the lawns
with their children and the children play together and therefore the mothers meet. But
most of their acquaintance is based on service needs-the bonowed cup of sugar; the
spoonful of corstarch for baby's sore bottom. They merely supply services to one
another-the same services a city would nmmally supply through its stores and delivery
services.
"Moreover," Mr. Mendelsohn said, "these people lack a basis of deep friendships
with one another. They are too much alike in age, jobs, number of children, and so on.
No1mally, you make friends where you live, or where you work. If you live in a
community of people very much like yourselves, the pressure for making friends is great.
But in an homogenous community, no one has anything to offer anyone else. What ideas
are expressed? What values fmed? What do you give to your neighbor? What can he
give you?
"Development people," Mr. Mendelsohn answered himself, "have nothing to gain
from one another. There is a great deal of neighboring among the women, but no real
friendships emerge, for too-much-alike people have nothing to communicate to each
other; no fundamentally different ideas are exchanged." ...
Suburbs and Children
"In a normal community," Mr. Mendelsolm said nostalgically, "there would be
YMCA and church facilities for dances, sports and social life; there would be public
libraries-even corer stores. In the moder development the houses are too small for
young families. Today's families can't entertain at home now, and when today's children
are teen-age, where do you suppose they will hold their parties and nonnal social life?
They certainly won't be able to conduct it anywhere in a development that is simply a lot
of houses.
"Today's housing developments ... destroy
established cities and trade patters, pose
dangerous problems for the areas they
invade, and actually drive mad myriads
of housewives shut up in them."
"To a sociologist," Mr. Mendelsolm said, "a community is a cohesive entity that
supplies essential needs and services to all the people who live in it. In developments, we
have already seen that churches are nonexistent or too few; that parks and recreational
areas are most often missing. These developments are just bedrooms on the edge of town.
What do you suppose will happen when the preschool children in all these places are ten
years older? Where will they go, and what will they do? You know perfectly well they
will find all their pleasures outside the development.
"Since even the movies are often miles away in the shopping center at the other
end of the development, you know the only thing for tomonow's children will be to
bonow the family car. In other words, all their recreation will be away from home. There
will be no chance for them to associate home with fun. To them, fun will always mean
something that happens away fom home-away fom any sort of parental supervision.
"Not all the features of a development are bad," Mr. Mendelsohn said judiciously.
"For one thing, there is no question that the development is a far healthier place to live
than the tenement or row house on a dingy, trafc-choked industrial street. Crime rates in
the development areas are insignifcant at present. Of course, what the crime rate will be
ten years from now when the children grow up with no place to meet or play under adult
supervision is something else again."
n
122 Majo,-rrablems in American History Since 1945
'DOCUMENTS
The tendency in thining about the history of twentieth-century America is to take a
decade-by-decade approach, seeing each decade as having distinctive problems,
characteristics, and themes. If that approach has its weaknesses for other decades, its
shortcomings are legion for the 1950s. For each theme that might encapsulate the
decade, there is a counterthene; and some developments, such as the expansion of
mass culture, had their roots in a much earlier time. One thing is certain: the years
following World War II opened a great number of new opportunities to many Americans,
the prosp
,
ect of which was both welcome and a bit frightening. The following documents
illustratesome. of the twitchiness in American culture as Americans made sense of
their dangerous bounty. The years following the war brought the vaunted baby boom,
but that vast group of youth seemed to threaten the culture. In Document 1, a writer for
Lie magazine remarks on the consumer muscle of teenagers in the 1950s. If that was
the good news about youth (as makers of all sorts of goods discovered), Document 2,
an article from Newsweek, offers some bad new about the dangers of juvenile
delinquency. Commentators blamed mass culture-including movies, rock 'n' roll,
and television-at least in part for declining moral values. Document 3, from U.S.
News and World Report, describes some of the fears television in particular inspired
about Americans' apparently increasing passivity. Like youth, sexuality became both a
product to be celebrated and sold in the 1950s and a force to be feared. Although new
organizations (and the famous "Kinsey Report") argued that gay and lesbian behavior
was not outside the norm, homosexuals, like communists, became the target of inves
tigators searching for subversives in governments, as Document 4 illustrates. Some
worries inspired quick answers, as Document 5 suggests in its advice on how to
respond to a nuclar attack.
l. Life Magazine Identifies
the New Teen-age Market, 1959
To some people the vision of a leggy adolescent happily squealing over the latest
fancy present fromDaddy is just another example of the way teen-agers are spoiled
to death these days. But to a growing number of businessmen the picture spells out
the proftable fact that the Aerican teen-agers have emerged as a big-time con
sumer in the U.S. economy. They are multiplying in numbers. They spend more and
have more spend on them. And they have minds of their own about what they want.
The time is' past when a boy's chief possession was his bike and a girl's party
wardrobe consisted of a fancy dress wor with a string of dime-store pearls. What
Depression-bred parents may still think of as luxuries are looked on as necessities by
their ofspring. Today teen-agers suround themselves with a fantastic array of garish
and often expensive baubles and amusements. They own 10 million phonographs,
over a million TV sets, 13 million cameras. Nobody knows how much parents spend
on them for actual necessities nor to what extent teen-agers act as hidden per
suaders on thir parents' other buying habits. Counting only what is spent to satisfy
)
Afuence and Discontent in 1.. /Os
-
123
- w
their special teen-age demands, the youngsters and their parents will shell out about
$10 billion this year, a billion niore than the total sales of GM.
Until recently businessmen have largely ignored the teen-age market. But now
they are spending millions on advertising and razzle-dazzle promotional stunts.
Their eforts so far seem only to have scratched the sut'face of a rich lode. In 1970,
when the teen-age population expands from its present 18 million to 28 million,
the market may be worth $ZO billion. If parents have any idea of organized revolt, it
is already too late. Teen-age spending is so important that such action would send
. quivers through
.
the entire national econom' y .. ..
At 17 Suzie Slattery of Van Nuys, Calif., fts any businessman's dream of the
ideal teen-age consumer. The daughter of a reasonably well-to-do TV announcer,
Suzie costs her parents close to $4,000 a year, fa more than average for the country
but not much more than many of the upper middle income families of her town. In
an expanding economy more and more teen-agers will be moving up into Suzie's
bracket or be influenced as consumers by her example.
.
Last year $1,500 was spent on Suzie's clothes and $550 for her entertainmimt.
Her annual food bill comes to $900. She: pays $4 every two weeks at the beauty
parlor. She has her own telephone and even has her own soda fountain in the house.
On summer vacation days she loves to wander with her mother through fashionable
department stores, picking out frocks or furnishings for her room or silver and
expensive crockery for the hope chest she has already started.
As a high school graduation present, Suzie was given a holiday cruise to Hawaii
and is now in the midst of a new clothes-buying spree for college. Her parents' con
stant indulgence has not spoiled Suzie. She takes for granted all the luxuries that
surround her because she has had them all her life. But she also has a good mind
and some serious interests. A top student in her school, she is entering Occdental
College this fall and will major in political science. . . .
.
.
.
.
.
.

Some Fascinating Facts About a Booming Market

FOOD: Teen-agers eat 20% more than adults. They down 3Y2 billion quarts of
milk every year, almost four times as much as is drunk by the infant population
under 1. Teen-agers are a main prop of the ice cream industry, 'gobble 145 million
.
.
c
gallons a year. . .

BEAUTY CARE: Teen-agers spent $20 million on lipstick last year; $25 million
on deodorants (a fifth of total sold), $9 million on home permanents. Male teen-agers
own 2 million electric razors.
ENTERTAINMENT: Teen-agers lay out more than $1.5 billion a year for enter- 4
tainment. They spend about $75 million on single pop records. Although they create
new musical idols, they are staunchly faithful to the old. Elvis Presley, still their
favorite, has sold 25 million copies of single records in {our years, an all-time high.
HOMEMAKERS: Major items like furiture and silver are moving into the teen-age
market because of growing number of teen-age marriages. One third of all 18- and
19-yea-old girls are already married. More than 600,000 teen- will be married
this year. Teen-agers are now starting hope chests at 15.
124 Major Pr ...v,ems in American Histor Since 1945
2. Newsweek Decries the Problem
. of Dangerous Teens, 1955 -
Call him "Tarzan." That's what he calls himself.
lis real
.
na

e is Frank Santana and he looks like a malnourished mouse but

he tlunk he s qmte a gu

-esecially when he's carying a gun.

.
'
A shm,
.
dark, adenotdal kid of 17, he was strutting down a street in the Bronx
last week wtth a
_
dozen members
?
f his gang, the Navajos. They were in uniform.
The

v
ore blue Jeans and leather Jackets, trimmed in yellow and emblazoned with
the mstgne
_
of the gang, a portrait of a Plains Indian. And they were looking for
Golden Gumeas. The Golden Guineas are a gang of teen-agers, too. The day before
a group of them had caught "Tarzan" and given him a pushing around. The Navaos
wanted revenge.

Model
Wiliam Blankenship Jr., 15, came up the street. He wasn't a Navajo or a Golden
Gumea. He wasn't a memer of any gang. He was a model student in high school
the
.
son of a research cherust who spent his spare time working to prevent juvenil
delmquency.

"Tarzan" gave his
_
gun, a .32-caliber Italian automatic, to a lieutenant to hold.
He grabbed Blankenshtp and accused him of being a Golden Guinea. Te lieutenant
Ralp
,
Fal

on, _ 6, "Superman," waved the gun menacingly.

'
Don t pomt that gun at me," cried Blankenship.
"Superman" put the gun in his belt.

"Don't chicken out," then screamed "Tarzan" at "Superman."

He grabb

d the gun and fred, killing Blankenship.

The NavaJOS scattered.
-,
The cops found 'Tarzan" at his apartment. They found the gun in the bathroom
water tank. They also found a pair of brass knuckles.
"Why did you shoot the kd?" the policemen asked.
"Tarzan" looked at his fsts.
"I didn't want to bang up these knukles," he said. "I'm a boxer you know s
used a gun
;
: He added with an air of apology: "I'm not very good
'
at street fht
mg, anyway.
Jungle
It too a crime as sensel

s
.
s as the murder of young Blankenship last wek to make
Amencans aware of a chilling fact: In several of the nation's cities and a 1 1
N Y k d Chi
' P cu ar Y Il
e
'
: or a cago, Juverule delinquency is actually becoming organized gang-
stensm. The old Prohibition mobs are gone Yet some of the cti

1
W
. . .
. 1 es remam Jung es.
1ere the Prohtbttlon mobsters prowled, teen-age hoodlums, organized like armies,
hav

taken

ver.1 'ru
:
e

?t just "bad kids." They are criminals. And they don't

hesitate to kill. 1. rohJbJtion mobsters killed for a ouroose. The teen-alers often
)
Ajuence and Discontent in the I!
125
will kill simply for the sake of killing or because, like Frank Santana, they don't
want to "chicken out. '; .. .
Juvenile delinquents come from every class of society, but tile teen-age gang is
a phenomenon of the slums. And it is a phenomenon also of tile socalled minority
groups. Sociologists say the gangs give tile youngsters a sense of status and a feeling
of "belonging." The trouble is, they can become vicious.
Escaped
"Gangs," says Cook County Sherif Joseph D. Lohman, a professional criminologist
and

a onetime professor of sociology at the University of Chicago, "attract young
sters because iliey fll a need iliat is lacking in society. They provide im escape from
the boredom and distasteful conditions iat parents and schools impose. There is
excitement in gang conflict and action. There are new and challenging experiences.
The gang solves a boy's problems by ofering what parents and society fail to pro
vide the restless, growing adolescent."
'The gangs range in size from a doz(n youngsters to 50 or 100 or even 250. All
iie members of each gang live i tie same neighborhood; usually, they are from the
same racial group. They give iliemselves names like the Navajos, tile Golden
Guineas, fue Jolly Gents, the Baldies, ilie Redwings. And tiley call themselves social
clubs or athletic clubs.
Trouble Makers
In New York, the police say, there are about 100 teen-age gangs. Of these, about 50
are listed by the cops as "active." This means they are trouble makers. They wage
wars in the streets with oilie.r gangs and they commit crimes.
Like Frank Santana's Navajos, the gangs usually wear un1forms:-in New York,
blue jeans and leather jackets; in Chicago, pegged trousers and black Ike jackets.
The Chicago teen-age hoods also afect ducktail haircuts:
The leaders are usually electt!d. And decisions usually are made by majority
vote. The organization is rarely cohesive. Members come and go. They move out of
ilie neighborhood; they go into ilie Army; they get married, Sometimes, gangs will
disintegrate abnost overnight. A few montils later, a new gang will spring up, with
many of the old members, but with a new name, a new insigne, and new leaders.
By and large, the gangs do not admit girls. Instead, they have girls' auxiliaties.
In Chicago, for example, the Commanders have the Commandettes; the Hawks
have the Squaws; the Mum-Checks have the Mum-Chicks. The girls also dress in
uniform-in Chicago, blue jeans and jackets. Says one: "It's hard for girls to wear
skirts when we sit on ilie comer with the guys. We'd get our skirts dirty."
. Until last year, many of the Chicago gang girls wore fueir hair pony-tail style.
Now they wear it bobbed.
Rnmhle -' -
,-
126
. ._
Major Problems in American Histor Since 1945
te|aaging toone gang will dance with a member o the other. 1hefirstgang's
raaar ishurt.8otherewill bea rumble. 1hehocds willght outinthestreets,
sametimeswithguasAndtherewillbecasualties.
1hegangsareastouchyasnationsabouttheirterritories. Whenagangrom
aaeneighborhoodwalksthtoughanother,that'sccnsideredaninvasionandanact
a war .. ..
Realgunsaresoeasytocomebythatewotheteen-agehoodsboiherwith
zip-gunsnow.
Whenboyandgirlgangmembersstattgoingsteady,theyexchange|acketsor
rings. InChicago,thegangcodedemandsthataboyseldomtravelwithhisgirl
exceptinacar,calledashort."Frequentlytheboysstealthecars,inwhichcase
theyarecalledhotshorts.

AtonesuburbanChicago high schoollastwinter, nearly 100 boys andgirls

crammedintoteenshorts,mostothemhot,andsystemicallyraidedanddemol-
ished aswan[North8horediningplace,causingdamagethatwasestimatedby
policeatnearly$250,000. Whentheyaskedmetogoalongwiththem,Ihadto,a
gang memberexplained."If I didn'tgoalong, they'dknowI waschickenandI
couldn'tlivearoundhereanymore.
Unenightlastmonth, neatly40 youngtoughscrashedaDeltaUpsilonatemty
danceattheUniversityoChicago,hutledbottles, bricks,andcluus,stabbedastu-
dentinthebackandbeatuptenothers. 1heyhaditcomingtothem,aMum-Check
explained.1aeyalwaysactedsosuperior.1heythoughttheywerebetterthanus
becausetheywenttocollege. Weeltitwasabouttimetotakecareothemanyway.
1woweeksago, ateratumorgot aroundthat onegang memberJwasdating
thegirlriendoanothergang'sleader,thesecondganggrabbedbaseballbatsand
racedtluoughthecitystreetsintwo cars seeking revenge. 1heysavagely slugged
twoboys,onlytodiscoverthatneitherboywasamemberotheoendingmob.
"Protection"
8teal-a-catclubs o sixto eightteen-agershavebecome increasingly popularin
Chicago. 8o hasthe practice o gitlmobstersbeatingupo thergirlssimply or
laughs.1hegirlhoodsalsohaveadoptedthepracticeobeatingupmotorists.Une
girlwillplythepartoahitchhikerWhenacatstopsorher,theothergirlsill
swarmoutohidingandstattpummelingthedriver.
InelementaryandhighschoolsiobothNewYorkandChicago,thehoodsre-
quentlywillorcotherstudentstopaythemprotectionmoney.5everalyoungsters
whoreusedhavebeenstabbedorslugged.Lastyear,oneothehoodswaskilledby
threeboyswhogottiredopayinghinrorprotection.
8aysathoughtul]uvenileexpert:1hesestreet-comergroupsocietiesareorgan-
izedonasystemo values opposedtothe valuesortheirparentsandsociety. We
can't 1 themthroughconventionalmeaas.1hegangsarehostiletoal organized
help. aresystematicallyattackingsociety.It'snotanindividualproblemba
group problem. Perhaps the viciousness o mankindin the past ew decades h
. Afluence and Discontent i> ..__,i950s
.
WhatAnswer?

ome|uristsbeevethatpoliceactionistheonlyanswertotheteen-agegaags.Uthers

tnstt thatbeatmg

up theteen-agersonlymakesthem more aatisocial.Uticiall

mttstheattitademNewYork.1hecityhasestablisheda YouthBoard whichworf
wrththgangsandattenptstodirectthemromantisocialtosocialeds.
s
1his week,Heny Lpstein,Deputy Mayor o NewYork,

recommended to
VayorRobettF Wagnetthattlie workotlieYouthBoatd be extended A dh
recommended, also,thatthe city appropriate approximately$300 OOO t
. n e
age k`

, o pnvate
ncreswor mg:opreventdelmquencyamongyouth.
.
3. U.S. Nes and World ReportAssesses the Perils of
Mass Culture ad the Evils of Television, 1955
1he;_est

eneworcesinAmeticanlietudayistelevision. Therehasbeen
nothr
.
ng etm epostward

ecade,orinmany decades beore that-pethaps

notsice mventionothepuntingpress. Lvenradio,byconttast,wasa placid
expeuence.
.

1himpac 1V ontl:iscountryhasbeensomassivethatAmericansarestill
wondermgwhat hi_

em.

Hastheeectbeengoodorbad? Whatpettnanentenects
.o nthemercanwa

nemaybeexpected? 1heseandotlierquestionsarecon-
sideredmthissurvey. .
Probablythereares

epeopleintheU.8.whohaveneverseenatelevision
prorm, butyouwou

ldha

gointotlieillstondthem.TooutotheeU.8.
nthesnoowntlieirown

s,oratepaymgorthem. In32 millionhomes,1V

dralsareckedonad, channel tochannel, atleast 100 million times
between8 A.M. andiindmght.
Lvetywhere,childrnsitwithe} gluedtoscreens-ortliretoourhoursa
dayontheaverage.1henparentsuse evenmoretimemesmerizedbytliisnew
marvel-ormonster. 1heyhavespent liondollarstolooksince1946.
Now,alternearly10 yearso1V,peop reasking: Whathath1V ht'
Wh t th` h` d
. wroug .
a IS is t mg omgtous?

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8olidanswerstotliisquestionareveryhatd get.Pollsters,sociologists, doc-
tors,techers,the1V people themselves comeup ithmoreconttadictionst|ian
conclusionswhenevertheystartasking.
"t,
.
Butalmostevetybodyhasanopinionandwantstoit.
.
Whatdotheeopinionsaddp to?Peoplehavestroviews. Hereatesome
widelyheldcoavictions,bothagamstandortelevision:
.
1htV haskeptpeoplergongplacesanddoing 1gs, romreading,
romthinkrngorthemselves.YetttIS satdalsothat1Vhastakenersvicatio 1
ntost:angandas ciangspotsaadsituations, broughtdistinguiseandench:
mgpeoplemtothe

trlivmgrooms,giventhemanewperspective.
1h

at1V hasmtetred with schooling,kept children rom Iearoing toread

aadwute,weakenedtheireyesightandsotenedtheirmuscle ttherearethoe
who hold that 1V has maceAmerica's youngsters more k..ing" about lie,
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"Leave It to Beaver" and .. Ozie and
Harriet":
American Families in te 1950s
0 UR mMt pwulri>lons ohraillonol lmil; d<rve from
lmags that au still ddlvero to our homs in countless reruns of
1950 tdvision sit-coms. When lirals and conrative debate
family plicy, [o example, the Issue is often framed In terms of how
many "Ozie and Harret familie ar ldt in Amerca. Urals com
pute the prcentage of total hoholds that contain a bradwinner
[ather, a full-time homemaker mother, and depnent children, pr
claiming that fewer than 10 prent o[ American families meet the
"Ozie and Haret or uave It to laver moel. Corvatives
counter that mou than half of all mother with prhol children
dthu au not employed or ar employed only par-time: They cite
plls showing that most working mothers would like to spnd more
time wth their childun and proically announce that the Nelsns
au "making a comebck," in ppular opinion If not in ral numbr.
Since everone admitS that nontraditional families ar now 1 a
jority, why this obssive concer to estblish 1 higher or a lower fig
uu? Urals sem. to think that unlrs they can prve the "leave It
to Javu" family Is on an irreverible slide towar extinction, they
cannot justify Introucing new family definitions and sial plicie.
Consratives blieve that if they can demonstrte the trditional
ramily is alive and well, although endangered by plicies that rewa
two-amer familis and single parnts, they can pass measurs to r
vive the sming placidity and prospry or the 195, asiated In
many people' minds with the rlative stability of mariage, gender
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24 TE WAY W NEVR WRE
rls. and family lif In that decade. thr 1950 family nlsttd toay,
bth sidr rmI0Mumc,wt would not havcthccuntrm
{
rzQs
cial dilemmas that cau such dtbatt.
At first glancr, thr figus em to justify this asumption. The
1950 was a profamily rio i the evu was onr. Rt of divorce
and illegitimacy we half what they a toay; marage wa almost
univerlly prai; the family wa rvrrwher hailed a the most
baic institution in siety; and a massivr bb bom, among all
classs and ethnic grups, made America a "child-cented" sciety
Births I hm a low of 18 .. pr 1,00 women during the Dps
sion to a high of 25.3 pr 1,00 in 1957. "The birth rate for thin
childn 'doubled btwren 1910 and 19, and that for fourth chil
dn tripled. "1
In trspct, thr 9> als sam a time of innoence and con
snsus: Gang wata among youths did not to drve-by shot
ings; the crack epidemic had not yet hit; di&cipline prblems in the
shols wer minor; no cular humanist" movement oppd the
195' addition of the wors unmr G to the Pledge of Allegiance;
and 9 prent of all shol levir we apprved by voters. Intr
ducton of mrplio vaccine in 195 4w the most drmatic of many
medical advanc that imprved the quality of life for childn.
The prfamily featurs of this decade we blsted by lmpive
economic lmprnments for vat numbB of Amercans. Btween
1945 and 196, the g national pruct gw by almost Jpr
cent and pr capita Income by 3 pnrnt. Housing str exploed
after the war, paking at 1,65 million in 1955 an mainh1g ab
1.5 million a year for the rt of the decae; the lncm in single
family homrownrrhlp btween 19- and 1956 outstrppd the in
c during the entl pcrdlng crntury and a half. By 196, 62
pnrnt of Amrican famlli owned their own homes, in contrast to
H prent in 9.Eighty-8ve pnent of the new hom we built
ln the suburb, whe the uclear family found new pssibilitir for
prvay and toetherrs. While middle-clas Amercans we the
prime bneHciari of the building bo m, substanlial numbr of
white working-class Americans mo\ed out of the cities into afford
able dndopments, such a uviuown.1
Mony working-clas families als movtd Into the middle class.
The numbr of slaried worker inc by 61 prent btween
19H and 1957. By the mid-1950, nearly U prent of the ppula
tion ha what wa labled a middle-class Income level (btween
IJ, and I1,0 in constant dollar), compad to only 31 gr-
/ )
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"lEAV I TO !EAVR" AN "OlE A HARtT" 25
cent in the "prsprus twenli," b thr Grt pslon. By
196, thiny-one mi1lion ul the nation [ory-four million families
owed thdr own home, 87 prtnt ha a television, and 75 prent
psssd a car. The numbr of pople wth disrtionar income
,- 1: .
doubled durng the 1950.

For most Americans, lhe mot slient yblan Immeiate bn
eficiar or thdr nefound prsprity w thc nucler family. The
bigest bo m in consumer spnding, for example, wa lahmhold
gos. Fo spnding r b only JJ prent In the fve year fol
lowing the Scond World War, and clothing expnditur r b 0
prent, but purhas or houshold furishings an _applianc
climbd 240 prent .. "Nearly thcentir Incr lathc@aatloaal
pruct In the mid-195 w duc to Incr spnding on con
sumer durbles and ridentlal constrcLon," mto[ ltorente to
wan lhe nuclear family'
Putting their mouth whcn thclr mone w, Amcrla1 consis
tently tQid pllsters that homc and family wer thc wellsprng of
their happines and lf-rtccm. Cultural hitoran DWMan ar.
gues that par fantasies or sphisticated' urbn "elegnce," epito
mized by the high- pnthou aprtmenl, gave way in thc 1950s
to a mo mort vision or utopia: a single-family hou and a car.
The emotional dimensions of utopi, howver, wer unbunded.
When rspndent to a 1955 marriage study we asked what they
thought the ha scrfced by marng and rulng a family, an
overhelming majority of them rplied, 'Nothing.'" Ls than 10
prent of Amercans bliee that an unmarc prn could b
happy. Aone ppular avice bkIntoned: "1hcfamily bthe center
or your living. If lt isn', you'n gone far astray ...
cNol olUc JW Fil
In fact, the "tfaditional" family of the 195 w a qualitatively new
phenomenon. At the end of the 19, all the trnds characterzing
the t or ihc twenlicth century suddenly ve themslve: For
the lirt lime in mor than one hundm years, the age for marrage
and mothero fell, ferility incrod, divore rtr declintd, and
women' dcgre of educational party with men drppd sharly In a
pro or lrs than ten year, the prprion or never-mared prns
declined by as much a it had durng the entir pvious half ccntur.7
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At the time, most ople understo the 1950 family to b a new
invention. The Great Deprssion and the Scond World War had r
inforced extended family tics, but in way s that were exrienced by
most ople a stultifying and oppresive. A one child or the De
pression later put it, "The Wahoos" tdevision sries of the 1970 did
not show what family life in the 193. was rally like: "It wasn't a big
family sitting around a table raio and everyby sying goonight
while Bing Crsby cro ne 'Penni from Heavtn."' On top of
Depressionra family tensions had come the painful family spara
tions and housing shortage of the war y ear: By 1947, six miUion
American familie wer sharng housing, and pstwar family coun
slor wared of a wdesprea marlal cpsi causd by conficts b
tween the generations. A 19iB MenhoJTm llm, "Marage and Di
vore," declard: "No home Is big enough to hous two familtes, par
ticularly two of difernt genertions, with oppsite theores on
.
child
training. "1
Durng the 1950, Rims and telesion plays, such "Marty,"
showed ople working through confict btween marital loyalties
and older kin, er group, or community tics; regrtfully but deci
sively, the conOicts. wer almost invanably "rlved in favor of the
heterosxual couple rther than the claims or extended kinship net
works, ... homosiability and frendhip." .Talcott Parns and other
sociologists argued that moem industrial siety requird the fam
ily to jettisn traditional prouctive function ad wid
_
er kin ties in
order to scializ: in emotional nurturnce, chaldranng, and pro
duction of a moem prnality. Scial worker "endord nuclear
family sprtenes and loked suspiciously on active extended
family networks. "9
Popular commenlator ured y oung familie to adopt a "moe'"
stnce and strke out on their own, and wth the retur or prpnty,
most did. By the early 1950, newlyweds not only were establishing
single-family homes at an earlier age and a more rapid rate than ever
bdore but als were incrasingly moving to the suburb, away from
the osrutiny of the dder generation.
For the first time in American histor moreover, such average
trends did not disguis sharp variations by class, race, and ethnic
group. Ptople marred at a younger age, bn their childrn earli

r
and closr together, completed their families b the time they were m
their late twenties, and exrenced a longer rio living together a
a couple ahcr their children ldt home. The traditional range or ac-
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*|tAvtI IO8tAw8*AN0*OD|tAMwkk|tt"
27
ceptable family bhaviorven the range In the acceplable numbr
and timing of children-narwed substantially.0
The values of 1950 families als wer new. The emphasi on pr- .
dudng a whole world of stisfaction, amusment, and inventiveness ..
within the nuclear family ha no prctdents. Historan Elaine Tyler ,' :;;
May comments: "The legendar f;mily of the 1950 ... wa not,
common wiom tells us, the last gasp of 'traitional' family life wth
deep rots in the pt. Rther, it was the firt wholehraned effor to
create a home that would fulfll vinually all Its membrs' prnal
needs through an enerized and exprsive prnal life.
"11

Bneath a suprficial rvival of Victoran domesticity and gender
distinctions, a novel ramngtment of family Ideals and male-female
rlations was accomplishe. For women, this Involved a rduction In
the moral act of domesticity and an expansion of It orenlatior
towar prnal srice. Nineteenth-century middle-las women
had cheerfully left houswrk to srants, yetl95 women of all
class crated makework In heir home and felt guilty when they
did not do everything for themslve. The amount of time omen
snt doing houswork actually Inrnd during the 1950s, despite
the advent of convenience fos and new, labr-sving appliance;
child care absrbd mor than twice a much time u it had In the
1920. By the mid-195, advenisr' surQrprted on a grwing
tendency among women to fnd "houswork a medium of exprS lon
for ... (their [ femininity and Individuality.
"11 .
For the lirt time, men a well a women wer encourged to rot
their ldentlty and If-image In familil and parenlal rles. The nov
elty of thes family and gender value can m sen In te dramatic
pstwar transforation of movie themes. Historan Peter Blskind
wrtes that almost ever major male star who had plad tough lon
ers In the 1930 and 191 "tok the role "with which he w y-
onymous and trnsformed them, In the ffties, Into neurllcs or g-
chotics." In the films, "men blonged at home, not on the strtt or
out on the prairie, .
.
. nol alone or hanging out with other men." The
women who got men to sttle down had to promis enough sx to
comte with "bad" women, but ultimately they provided it only in
the marital bdroom and only In rtur for sme help fxing up the
hous.u
Pulic images of Hollywo stars wer consiously rworked to
show their commitment to marriage and stability Arter 1947, for ex
ample, the Actors' Guild orgaJiZed "a sre or unprecedented
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28 TlE WAY WE NEVR WRE
speches ... to given to civic groups around the country, emphasiz
Ing that th stars now embied the rtjuvenatd family life unfolding
In the suburbs." Ronald Rugan ddn of actors' family values was
rpcially "stirring," noted on rtprtr. but female stars, unlike Rea
gan and othn male star, wK obligd to livr the nw valur a wll
as propagandize them. joan Crawford, for example, one of the brash,
tough, indepndent ltading ladits of the prwar ra, was fOW pic
turd as a dvotal mothrr wh x appal and glamour did not pr
vent hn frm doing hu own howork. She d for picturs mop
pingJor and gav interiew abut her childraring philosphy.
The "go Ilk" In the 195, historan Clifford Clark pints out,
mae the family "the fous of fun and ncration." Th ranch hous,
anhitttunl mbiment of this new ideal, disarded the oldrr pri
vacy o[ the kitchen, den, and swing rom (n:prsntative or sparate
sphrr for men and women) bullntrouced new privacy and luxur
into the mastr drom. There was an unprcedented "glorification
o[ slf-indulgence" in family life. Formality was disarded in favor o[
"livability," "comfort," and "convenience." A contradiction in terms
in earlier prios, "the sxually chargal, child-centered family took
its place at the center or the pstwar American drtam. ""
On television, . David Mar comments, all the "normal" famills .
moved to the suburbs during the 1950. Popular culture tured such
suburban ramilir Into cpitalism answrr to the Communist threat.
In his famous "kitchen debate" with Nikit Khrushchev in 1959,
Richar Nixon assrted that the suptriority or capitalism over com
munism was embied not in ideology or military might but in th
comforts of th suburban home, "drigned to mak ihings easier for
our women."16
Acceptance or domesticity Wt the mark or middle-class status
and upward mobility. In sit-com families, a middle-class man's work
was totally lrrlevant to his identity; by the sme token, thr problems
or working-class ramilir did not lie in their economic situation but
in their failun to crate harmonious gnder rlrs. Working-class and
ethnic mr: n on tdevision had one defining characteristic: They wert
unable to contrl their wivr. The families of middle-class men, by
contrast, were generally wdl bhavedY
Not only was the 1950 family a m:w Invention; it was also a his
torical nuke, basd on a unique and temprar conjuncture or eco
nomic, social, and plitical (actors. During the war, Americans had
sved at a rate mort than thrt timr higher than that In the dd:ads
bcfor or sine. Their buying powr was further enhancd by Amer-
"LEAV IT TO BEAVR" AND "OUIE AD HARRIET" 29
lea extllordinary comtitive advatage at the end of the war, when
ever other industrial pwer wa devastated by the exprien:. This
prvileged economic psition sustained bth a trmendous xpan
sion or middle-class managemnt ocupation and a nw ho"y
moon twn managmnl and oranind labr: Durng the 1 C.
ral wagr incrd by mor than the ha in the ntirr previous
half cntur.
11
The impct or such pprty on family fortion and stability
was magnifial by the rle or goverment, which could affor to b
gnrrous with education bnelts, housing loan, highway and wr
constrction, and job training. All this allowe most middl-lass
Amrcans, and a lar numbr of working-lasones, to adopt fam
Ily valur and stntcgie that assumathe availability of chep rnrgy.
low-intrtst home loans, xpanding euctionl and ocupational
opprtunitis. and steady employnt. Th ectations encour
agd arly marriag. early childbaring, expansion of consumr dbt,
and rsidrntial panms that required long commutes to work-all
pattms that would btom highly problemtic by th 1970, as we
shall in chaptrs 8 and 11.
A Complx Realit 1950 Pvr, Divrit, an
Sial Change
Even asid frm the exceptional and ephemrl nature of the condi- .
lions that supprted thm. 195 family strategies and valus orru
no slution to the disontents that undrlie contmprry rmanti
cization of the "go old day s." The rality of th families was far
mor painful and complx than the siluton-ommy rrns or th
upuratm memore or the notalgic would sugst. Contrary to
ppular opinion. "uave It to Davr" w not a doumentary.
In the first plac. not all Amercan familis shar in th consumr
xpansiqn that prvidm Hotpint appliances for june Claver
kitchn and a vacuum cleaner for Donna Ston. A full 25 rcent of
Amuicans, fory to ffty million pople, wrr por in the mid-1950,
and in the abstnc of fo sLamps and housing programs, this
pnry was starng. Evrn at the nd of the 1950, a thir of Amri
can childrn wer po r. Sixty prent of Americans over sixty-fiv
had incoms blow $1. in 1958, considrably blow the $3,00
to $10,00 lvd considrd to rtpnt middl-class status. A ma-
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30 THE WAY W NEVER WRE
jorily of elders als lacked medical insurance. Only hair the ppula
tion had svings in 1959; one-quarter of the ppulation had no liq
uid assts at all. Even when we consider only native-brn, white fam
ilies, one-thir could not get by on the income of the household
head.19
In the scond place, real life was not s white ait was on televi
sion. Television, comments historian Ella Taylor, increasingly ig
nored cuhural diverity, adopting "the mollo 'least objectionable pro
gramming,' which gave r to tho least objectionable families, the
Cleaver, the Nelsns and the Andersns." Such families were s
completely whitt and Anglo-Saxon that een the Hispanic grdener
In "Father Knows lt" went by the name of Frank Smith. But con
trary to the all-whitt lineup on the television network and the
stret or suburbia, the 195 sw a major trnsformation in the eth
nic compsition or America. Mor Mexican immigrant entered the
United States in the two decades afer the Scond World War than in
. the entire prvious one hundrd years. Prior to the war, most blacks
and Mexican-Americans lived in rural aras, and thre-fourths of
blacks livtd in the Suth. By 19, a najority of blacks resided in the
North, and 8 pnent of bth blacks and Mexican-Americans lived
in citiu. Postwar Puerto Rican immigration was s massive that by
19 more Puerto Ricans lived in New York than in Sanjuan.l0
Thes minorities wer almost entirely excluded from the gains and
privileges accortd white middle-class families. The june Cleaver or
Donna Stone homrmaktr rolr was not availablr to thr morr than 4
pnenl of black womrn wilh small childrn who worked outside the
home. Twenty-lve prent of thee women headed their ow house
holds, but tven minorties who conformed to the dominant family
form facrd conditions quite unlike tho prtrayed on tdrvision.
The pverty rate of two-parnt black families was more than 50 pr
cent, apprximately thr sme as that of one-prent black ones. Mi
grant worker suferd "near medinal" deprivations, while termina
tion and rloation pllcirs wer employed against Native Americans
to get thrm to give up trtaty rights.11
Afrcan Americans In the Suth facrd systematic, lcgally snc
tloncd sgregation and perasive brtality. and thos in the North
wereexcluded by rtstrictive covenants and rdlinlng from many bn
efits of the rconomic expansion that their labr hdpd sustain.
Whit s resisted, wUh harasment and violence, the aurmpts of
blac s to participate in the Arrieri<an family dream. When Harey
Clar trird to move into Cicero, Illinois, in 1951, a mob of ',OO
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31
whitrs spnt four days tearng his apartment apart while plicr stoo
by and joked with thrm. In 1953, the firt black family movrd into
Chicagos Trumbull Park public housing projrct; neighbrs "hurled
stones and tomaJos" and trashrd stores that sld greries to the "
new rsidents. In Detrit, lift magaine rprted in 1957, "10,oo<J,
Negro work at the Ford plant in nearby Dearbr, lbutl not one '
Ncgro can livr in Dearbr itlf:"U
Mor Complexites: Reprssion, Anxiet,
Unhappiness, and ConHic
The happy, homogrneous familirs that we rmrmbr" from the
1950 wer thus partly a rult of the mrias denial of diversity. But
even among sctor or the ppulation wher the "ltt objectionable"
families did prvail, their values and bhavior wer not entirly a
spntaneous, joyful raction to prsprty If suburbn 11 nch hous
and family barbcurs wer the cart offerd to white middle-class
families that adopted the new nr, ther wa al a stick.
Women's retrat to houswifer for example, was in many cases
not freely chosn. During the war, thousnd or woirn had entertd
new jobs, gained new skills, joined union, and fought against job
disrimination. Although 95 prrnt of the ne wmen employee
had cxpctrd when they wrr frst hird to quit work at the end of
the war, by 195 almot an equally overhelming majorty did not
want to give up their indepndence, respnsibility, an Income, and
exprssd the desir to continue working. n
Aftrr the war, however, writrs one rcent student of pstwar 1
construction, "management wrnt to extrrinar lengths to pure
women workers from the auto plant," a well a frm other 'high
paying and nontraditional Jobs. A It turrd out, in

most cas
women wen not pranently expllt frm the labr force but were
merely downgraded to lower-paid, "female" jobs. Evrn at the end of
the pure, there were more women working than bfor the war, and
by 1952 there wer two million mor wives at work than at the pak
of wartime prouction. The jobs available to the women, howevrr,
lacked the pay and the challenges that had made wanime work s
slisfying, encouraging womrn to defne thrmslves In terms of
home and family even when ,they wert working.11
Vehement auacks wen launched againt women who did not ac-
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cpt such sdf-diniUons. In th l9471tkr, The Modem Woman:
Tt lol 5r, Marnia Farham and Frdinand lund\r dfscri\d
rminism l a drp illn." calld th notion of an indndnt
woman a contradiction in tfrs," and accuSd womn who sught
ducational or rmploymnt tquality of ngaging in symblic castra
tion" of mn. A siologist David Rirman notd. a woman's failur
to \ar childrn wnt frm \ing a sial disdvantagr and sm
tlmts a prnal tragdy" In thr ninrtrrnth crntury to \ing a
quasi-prrrsion" in the 195. The conOicting mesges aimed at
womrn Semal almost calculated to dmoralizr: At the sme time as
thy la\)rd women unnatural" i they did not Sek fuUillmtnt In
motheroo, psychologits and ppular wrter insisted that most
moem sial ills could b traced to dominccrng mothcrs who in
vrtcd to much encry and emotion In thdr childrn. Womcn wc
told that no Other txritncc in lire ... will providt the sme Sns of
fulfillment, or happines, of complete prding contentment" a
motherho. But so n arttr ddivtr they we akcd, Which ar
you firt o( all, W or Mother?" and wamcd against the tendrncy to
b to much mother, to little wife. "u
Womn who culd not walk the fne lint btwccq nururng
mothero and castrting momim," or who h trouble adjusting .
to crative homemaking," wr lablc neurotic, prerted, or
shizophrnlc. A crnt study of hospitalizcd shizophrnic"
women In the Sn Franciso By Ar durng the 1950 condudr
that imtltulionalization . and smetime elcctric shok tretmrnts
wr u to font women to accept thtlr dometic rle and their
husbnd' dicttt. Shok tratments al wcr commcndd for
womcn who sught abrtion, on the asumption that failure to want
a bby signifid dangcrus emotional disturbance. 1'
All women, cven smingly doile one, wer deply mlstrstcd.
Thy wcr frquendy denkd the right to sre on juries, convy
prpr make contrcts, take out credit cars In their own name, or
etablish ridence. A 1954 article in Eslr called working wive a
menace"; a Lift author termcd marcd womcns cmploymcnt a dis
eas." Women wcr excluded frm Sv:rl prfesions, and some
statt cven gave husbnds total contrl over family finances.17 Thrrt
wer not many risible altemativts to baking brwnirs, cxr
menling with new canned sups, and gelling rd of stains around the
collar.
Men wer also prssurd Into acceptable family roles, since lack of
a suitable wfe could mean the los of a job or prmotion for a
"lEAV I TO REAVR" AND "OUIE AD HARRIEr 33
middlr-class man. 8achdor wer catrgorzed a immatu." infan
tile," "nanissistic," "deviant," or evcn pathological:" Family advicr
xr Paul landis arrd: Except for the sick, the badly crppled, :, .
thr ddormcd, the emotionally ward and the mentally defcctivc, al ;:1;,
most cvcronr ha an opprtunity (and, by clar implication, a duty! '
to mary. "J
Familit in the 195 wer pruct o even mo dirct rpr
sion. Cold war anxietie mercd with concer abut the exnded
sxuality o( family life and the commcrial world to crte wht one
authorty calls the domestic verion of-Gere F Kennan contain
ment plicy towar the Sviet Union: A "norl" family and vigilanr
mother bcame the "frnt line" of defen agint tn; anticom
munists linkcd deviant family or suual bhavor to sedition. The
FBI and other govemmrnt agencie instituted unpnccdentcd state
intrsion into private life under the guis of invetigating subvcr
sive. Gay baiting wa almot a wdeprud and ever bit a vicious
a r bitlng.l
The Civil Srce Commision fr 2,611 prns a "Scurt
rsks" and rpred that 4,Jn others rign under the pressur of
Invetigations that askallraing quetions of thdr neighbrs and In
quird into the bok they rad or the music to which they listcm:d.
In this atmospher, movie prucer jol Shumacher rcalls, No
onr told the truth .... Ptople prtendcd they wen't unfaithful. They
prtrndal that they weren' homosxual. They prtended that they
wrrn' horrible. "J
Even for pople not dirtly concd lnto confority by rcial,
plitical, or prnal pssion, the tum towar familit was in
many cases mor a ddensive move than a purly affirative act.
Sme men and women enterd loveless maniage in orer to (ore
stall attacks about ral or suspcted homosxuality or lesbianism.
Growing number of poplc sw the family, In the wors of one
husband, as the one "group that in spite of many disagreements In
terally always will face its exteral encmies together." Conserva
tive familieS wared children to bwa or communists who might
masqucrade as friendly ncighbrs; li\ral childn leared to con
fine thdr opinions to the ramily for (ear that their father job or
reputation might b thratened. '1
Americans wer far more ambivalent abut the 1950 than later
rtrpctives, such as "Happy Days," sugest. Plays by Tennesee
William, Eugene O'Neill, and Arthur Miller explord the underide
of family life. Movirs such aRebl WUhour d Cause (1955) expreSsed
''I
3
TH WAY W NEvR WRE
ftars abut youths wh parnts had failed them. There was an al
most obsivc concer with the idea that the mas media had bro
ken down parental control; thus prvoking an outburst of "dtlin
quency and youthful viciousness." In 1954, pychiatrist Fredric
Wcrtham' Scduclfo of Cht lnnomts wared: "The atmospher of
crime comic bok i unparalleled in the history of childrn' litera
ture of any time or any nation." In 1955, Congress diussd nearly
20 bills rlating to delinquency U sme of thes anxieties seem al
most charingly naive to our more hardened age, they wer no less
rl for allthat.11
Many familie, of cour, managed to hold such fears at bay-and
It must b admitted that the suburb and small tpwns of Amere2
were u:ceptionally go place for doing s. Shielded from the mul
tiplying prblems and grwng diersity or the rst or siety, nsi
dcn of thes ar could afor to b neighbrly. Churh aucndance
and membrship in voluntary as iation tended to b higher in the
subum than In the clUes, although contact with extended kin was
les frequent. Childrn played in the neighbros and cui-de-scs
with only curry warings abut strnger.n
In her autobiographical account of a 1950 adolesence, Susn
Allen Toth rmembrs growing up "gradually" and quietly" in a
small tow or the pro: "We wer not sard by fict pverty,
racial tensions, drg abus, strt t crimes." Perhap this Innoence
was "constricting," she amlued, but It als gave a child "shelter and
spce to grw." For Toth, Insulation (rom exteral prblems mrnt
that gring up was a proes of bing "cosstted, gently warmed,
trnsmuted by slow degree. ".
For many othtr children, however, grwing up In 1950 familie
was not s much a mtter of bing protected frm the harsh ralities
or the outside world as prventing the outside world from learing
the harsh mllties of family life. F would have guesd 1hat rdiant
Marilyn Van Derbur, crowned Miss America In 1958, had ;en sxu
ally violated by her wehhy repctable father from the time she was
fve until she was eighteen, when she moved away to colh:gc.n While
not all family ct wer quite s shoking, author Bcnita Eisler re
calls a common middle-class exprience:
college clasmate kcamc clo friends, I hean sgas or lire at
h me tht were Gothic honr storie. Bhind the htdges and drive
w ys or uppr-middle-class suburbia wen tragedies or madntss, sui
ci t, and-mot pralent or all-hronlc and svere alcoholism ....
:.:n
)
'EAv IT TO BAvR AD oUE A HARI
35
The

al rvelation [or me wa the rle played b childrn

in ... ktepmg up appurnces. Many of my new friend had ben
pns d inco srice erly ahppy smlllng rroncs, emisre of fm
ily normalc cheerful pro [ that "nothing was rally wng" at the
Jontss.J
J' ' J
./
Bneath the plished faede o many "Ideal" familie, suburbn
as well as u
.
rban, was violence, terr, or simply grinding miry that
only ocasionally came to light. Although Colordo Rrhers
found 302 batterd-child cs, including JJ deaths, In their state
durin

one year alone, the maor jourai of Amercan family siol
ogy d1d nol carr a single anicle on family violence btween 1939
and 1969. Wife battering wa not even consier a "ral" crime by
mot pople. Psychiatrists In the 195, following Helene Deutsh,
"regarded the bttered woman a 1 mhit who prvoke her hus
band Into bating her. "J1
Historin Elizbth Pleck derib how one Family Srce As
ciation tranlated thi pychological apprh Into plient counl
ing during the 195. Mr. K cam to the Asiation bcus her
husband was an alcoholic who repatedly abusd her, bth physi
cally and sxually The agency felt, ho\ever, that It w simplistic to
blame the couple' prblems on his drinking . When counslor
leared that Mr. K rrusd her husnds demnds ror s arter he
came home rrm working the night shUt, they decided that they had
found a deepr difculty: Mrs. K needed therapy to "brng out sme
o( her anxiety abut sx ativitie ..,
We will prbably neer know how prevalent Incet and sxal
abus wer In the 1950, but we do know that when girls or women
reprted Incident or such abus t therpists, they were frequently
told that they wer "fantsizing" their unconsious odipl desir.
Although incest cas wer common throughout the rords of ca
worker from 18 to 19, acording to historian Unda Goron'
study of thes doument, the prblem wa Incrasingly redefined a
one of rem,le "sx delinquency." By 19, dcpire overwhelming evi
dence to the contrary exprts desribd incet a a "one-In-a-million
ocurrence." Not until the 1970, heartened by a supprive women'
movement, wer many women able to spak out abut the sxual
abus they had suffered In siltnt agony during the 195; other,
such as Marilyn Van Drbur, are only now coming forr. )
less dramatic but more widesprad wa the existence or signif
cant marital unhappines. Btwten one-quarter and one-third of the
:I
36 lHE WAY W NEVI WRE
marriages contracted In the 1950 nentually ended In divorce; dur
ing that decade two million legally marred ople lived apart from
uch o&hu. Many mon couples simply toughed it out. Sciologist
Mirra Komarovsky concluded &hat of the working-class couples she
interviewed in lhe 1950, "slightly less than one-third lwud happily
or very happily married. "4
National plls found that 20 rent of all couples considend
thdr marages unhappy, and another 20 rent rpred only
"medium happints." In the middle-clas smple studied by Elaine
Tyler May, 1wo-thirs of the husbands and wives rated their mar
riages "decidedly happier than average," but an outside orver
might wdl have saled this back to a renge much like Ko
marovsky', for even the happlst couples reprted many diss&isfac
tions and communiction problems. "The idea of a 'working mar
riage' was one that often included constant day-to-day misry for one
or bth parner.
A succtsful 1950 family, morrover, w oflen achieved at enor
mous cost to the wife, who was expcted to subrifate hu own
needs and aspirations to thos of both her husband and her children.
In consquence, no so ner was the Ideal of the pslwar family ac
cep&ed &han oberer bgan to comment rplexedly on how dis- .
conlnted women semed in the very rle &hey suppsdly desind
most. In 1949, life magazine rpred that "suddenly and for no
plain reasn" Amercan women wer "sized with an eerie rcslless
nts." Under a "mask of placidity" and an outwardly feminin ap
parance, one physician wrote in 1953, ther was often "an inwardly
tens and emotionaJJy unstable Individual se&hing with hidden ag
gressivenSand renlment. u
Some women tok this rsentment out on their families. Surely
sme of the bizarr havior that Joan Crawfor exhibited towar
her childrn, according to her daughter' bluer rmembrnce, Mom
mic Dcasr, Uowed from the fstration of bing fored into a do
mestic role abut which she was intensely ambivalent. Other women
lried lo dull &he pin with alcohol or drugs. Tranquilizers were devd
od in the 1950 in respnse lo a m:cd that physicians explicitly
saw as female: Virtually nonexistent in 1955, tranquilizer consump
lion reached 461,00 punds in 1958 and sared to 1.15 million
punds merely a yrar later. Commenlalor notrd a shar incrase in
women's drinking durng the decade, even though many middle
class houswives kept their liquor stash hidden and thought no one
( .
"LEAV I lO BEAVR" AND ourE AD HARRIEr 37
knew that they needed a couple of drnk to face an evening of fam
ily "togetheress. H
But not even "the four b'," as th"e mother of a colh:ague of mine
usd lo labl her life in the 1950"bo ze, bwling, brdge, and
boredom"-ould entirly conceal the disontents. In 1956, the
Wits' ot jourl devoted an is ue to "The Plight of the Young
Mother. When McCdll ran an article entitled "The Mother Who
Rn Away" in the sme year, the magazine st a new rcor for rad
erhip. A former rditor commented: "We suddenly ralizec that all
those women at home wth their thre and a half childrn wer mis
er

bly unhappy." By 19, almost ever major news joural was

usmg the word trapd to desrb the feeling of the Amercan
houswife. When Rtdbol editor asked rder to pvlde them
with examples of "Why Young Mother Feel Trpd," they received
24,00rplies ..
Ahhough Btty Friedan' bstller Tht fnlnt Mysllqut did not
appar until 1963, it was a prouct of the 1950, originating in the
disontented tspnss Fredan tceived In 1957 when she sureyed
fellow college classmates from the class of 1942. The heartfelt identi
fication of other 1950 women with "the problem that ha no name"
is presrrd in the letter Fredan rceived alter her bok was pub
lished, letter now at the Shlesinger Library at Rdcliffe.'
Men tended to b mor stisfied wth marriage than were women,
espcially over lime, but they, too, had their disontents. Even the
most successful strivers ater the Amercan dream sometimes mut
terd abut "mindless conformity" The tide or bok such as Tht
Oranizarton Man, by William Whyte (1956), and Tt lty Crwd,
by David Riesman (1958), summarized a widespread crtique or
1950 culture. Male rntments against women wer expresd in
the only partly humorous diatribs of Playb magazine Hounded in
1953) against "money-hungry" gold digers or lazy "parasites" trying
to trap men into commitment.4
' '
Contrdictions of te 1950s Famil Bom
Happy memories of 1950 family life are not all illusion, of course
there wen good times for many families. But even the most psitive
aspects had another
.
side. One tason that the 1950 family modd
'
. f
.. :--
)
38 M WAY W NVR Wl
was 5 neting was tht il comained the Sc or hs own destrction,
a pint 1 will uplon further In chapter 7. It was durng the 195,
not the 19, that the youth market was firt prouced, then Insti
tutionalized into the youth cuhun. It wa through such Innouou
shows a "Howdy Doy" and "The Disney Hour" that avertiSr
lirst disover the rich to b gina by bsng pnnt and ap
paling directly t youth. II w a durng this pro thatlvertis
ing and consumersm ba 1turk wth sx r
In the 195, family life w Onn b tonmlc prtices that
wen to have unnti cipte rnunc In the 1970. Wiv

an
mother Ort sla to work in grt numbr durng the 195 in
orer to supplement their familie' pKIng pwer; expnion of
houshol comforts came "at the co o a anomical Incr or
lndebtednt. The bbr-mnagcmntiCo or the 195 help
ei the union Iment ability t op th lkeb an run
away shop that dctroyt th ramlly wge system" during the
1970 and 19.4
Family and gender stege als conlainrd sme time bmb.
Women who "played dumb" to catch a man, a 4 prent o( Brr
Colltgt women admiued to doing, smetime desp their hus
bands for not living up to the fiction or male supnonty they h
worked s har to prmote. Commitment t lprvlng the quality
or family life by manipulating the liming an spcing of childbaring
led to the sial aceplability or family plnning and the sprd of
birth-contrl technkue.. Concentration of childbarng In erly
marrage meant tht grng numbr of women h years to spre
(or paid work after the bulk of their chil-t dutk wer finished.
Finally, 19 familie fotered Inten feeling an value that pro
duced young pople with a sharp eye for hyrisy< many of the s
called rbl or 1 19 wer simply acting on values tat they h
interalid In the bm of their familie. 4
Teen Pc ad t 1950 Fil
Whatever it other unexctcd featurs, the 195 family das ap-
al least when compar
d
to families in the lat two deca
d
e, to
par,
.
o b
t a bastion or "traditional" Kxual morluy. Many m ern 0 -
srvers, acconingly, lok bck to the MXUal valu of this decae
a pssible slution to what they sc a the Icuharly moern ep1-
(R
'
I
)
. \
-I
"LEV IT TO BAVR" A oziE A HRIr
39
dcmic" ol teen pregnancy. On clor examination, however, the issue
or teen pregnancy is clas ic exmple of bth the novelty and the
contradictions or the 195 lmily.
Tho who advoate that toay' youth sould b tught absti
nence or ddcrrcd grtifcation rather than sx education will find no
195 mel ror such restraint. "Heavy plting" bcame a norm o(
dating in this pro, while the prprion or wite brd wh wer
prgnant at mrage mor than doubled. Tten birh rate sand,
rhing high that hve not ben eualed since. In 1957,97 out or
every 1,00 girls aged f teen to nineteen gave birth, compared to
only 52 of every 1,00 In 193. A surprsing numbr or the births
wer Illegitimate, although 195 cenu coes mae it Impsible to
Identify an unmarried mother ir she Uv at home with her prent.
The incience of illegitima was al disguisd b te new empha
sis on "nhailittlng" lhc white mother (though not the black) by
pulling her bby up (or aoption and encouraging her to "slrt
over"; then wa an 8 prent lncn In the numbr or out-or
wedlok bbie plae for apton btween 19 an 1955.
The main nn that lecnge sxual bhvor did not rsult In
many mor illegitimate birhs during this ro was tht the agt o(
marrage drppd sharply Young pple wer not taught how to "sy
no"-they wen simply han weding rng. In (acl, t growing
willingnes or pnnts to subiie young mred couples and the
new prvalence or goverment eductionl slipns and home ow
ership loans for vetern underined the (orer asumption that a
man should b able to suppr a family bfor embrking on mar
rage. Among the midle clas It bcame common for young wives
to work whik thdr husbns linished shol. Por t the 195, a
David Ricsman wte or hi prs ion-n clasmate, It would not
"have ocurrd to us to have our wives suppr us thrugh grduate
shol. "'1
.
Contemprar teenage motherho, a we shll Ke tn' chapter 8,
In sme ways reprSnts a cofinualo o( 195 values In a new eco
nomic situation that makes early marrage les viable. or cour,
mOem teen pregnncy als rDcct the rjeclion of sme o( thos
earlier values. The values that have brken dwn, however, have Ill
tie to do with sxual rtraint. What we now think or as 195 SXual
morality dendcd not s much on strcter sxual contrl a on in
tensification or the sxual double standard. Elaine Tyler May arues
that suual"rpreslon" gave way toKxual "conlinmcnt." The {lew
prctice or going steady "widentd the bundarie or prmisible KX-
I
4
., .. l WAY W NMI WM
ual activity," cratlng a "suual brnksiianshlp" In which womn
bn th burdn or "drwng th lin: but that lin wa constntly
changing. Popular opinion admind. a th Iln' Ho Joral put
It in 1956, that x sugrstlnncs" wa her to stay, but insistd
that il was up to womtn to "put th brkrs on. "71
This doubh: stndArd led to a Byzantine coe of xual conduct:
"Pelling" wa snctioned s long a one didn't go "to far" (though
this was an daslic and ambtguou5 prohibiUon) a woman could M
touched on varouJ pm of Mr by (how lo_ depndrd on how
rious the maonhip w) but "nlt girls" rfnd to fonle the
comparble male pns In rtum; mutual stimulation to orasm was
comptibl with maintlnlng a "go" rrputation s long a pndr
tion did not ocur.
The succt of xa1 contlnmnt depntd on xual lnruallty.
Men no longtr bn the rnsibillty of "sving themIV for mar
riage"; this w now exclusinly a wman Job. In !har conttt to
the ninettnth tntur, when "onrutd" or demanding men wer
considerd to han Kru pblem! , It w n consider "nor
mal" or "nturl" for men 10 b xually agln. Te "anrge
man," avice writer for women commented indulgently, "wll go a
far a you lei him go." Wn women succtdtd in "holding out" (a
ph chared wilh morl ambigully), they smetii exprenced
prblems "ltting go," evn afttr rrage; when lhey failtd, thy
were often rproaht lter b their husbn for having "given ln."
The contrictiM of this double stanard cl not long withstand
the prio pr5UKJ for compnionte rmance: By 1959,.a mor
liMral singl standard ha alry galntd groun among older
teenager acrsAmerica."
T Pe o Woe In Trdil FmiiJs
People wh rmanUc the 19. or any mud of th tritional
family, ar usually put in an uncomforble pition whn thy at
tmpt to gain ppular suppr. The lgitimacy of womn rght i s
widely acepted toay that only a tiny minority or Amrcans sr
ously prop that womtn should go bck to bing full-time hous
wivt:s or should b dtnicd educational and Job opprunitit Mcaus
of their family rrspnsibilitirs. Yet when commentator lamnt the
colla of traditional family commllmnt and valu. they almost
}'
. .. .\
.;
"LEAV I TO !EAVI" A "OliE A HAIIIEr 41
Invariably mean th uniqudy female dutlt as iated wth th doc-
trin or sparate sphun for men :nd women.

Karl Zinsmeisttr of thr Amercan Ente lmtitute, for rxam

pl. bmoans the ract that "wrkaholim and fmily derliction have
bcomr rual-pprunily dl. striking mother u much a
,. ),
fathtr." Dv Blankenhor of the Intitute for Amtrian Valut
exprs sympathy for tht nt of working wmen bt war
that "employed womtn do nt a family makr. TM gls of women
(and or mrn, to) in the workpla ar pmariy lnlulilc: 5
cl:d reognitlon, wge, oprunitie for lv.ncmrnt, an slf
fulfllment. Out the family Is abut colltctlvt gol ... , building life
most Imprnt bns of ftllon, nurturnt, mutual suprt, nd
long-ter commitment.""
In bth sttementJ, a !mlngly r-nutrl tktmnt of fam
Ily lnpnslbility ens up bing dlreted mot fordully against
women. For Dlanktnhom, ills not surrsing thattm gols should
M indivdualistic; this i a prnthetial aidt. For Zinsmeister, the
prblem with thr dis or family drrdictlon ls that It ha spr to
women. S long a it wa cnlntd 10 men, evidently, thtn was no
urtncy abut finding a cuR.
The cris or commitment In Amerca is usually Ken IS I prbltm
ass:ted with womrn' chnging rlr bcau women family
function! havt hitorally miattd thr wort effects or comptition
and Individualism In the larer sly. Mot pople who tlk abut
blancing prvate lv.ncrment an Inividual rghtJ wth "nunu
rance, mutual supr, an long-ter comnitmnl" do nt envision
any rous rthinking of the Inividualistic, antisial tenencie in
our siety, nor any wy of lning our sur of nurturancr
and mutu:l assistnce. lntel , tM Stk wy- melime thrugh
rpRSion, smetime thrugh rforf rbilding a family In
which women can continue to compnte for, nther than challengr,
the individualism In our larger eonmy an plity The ntxt chaptu
explores the rliance of Amercn inividuli on the subrina
tion of womr' indivduaiUy an th contrictions th:t has pr
ducd in our historical undrrtndlng o( love 1nd family life.
"
I
I
..
..
126 Problems in American Histor Since 1945
belonging to one gang will dance with a member of the other. The first gang's
honor is hurl. So there will be a rumble. The hoods will fight out in the streets
sometimes with guns. And there w.l be casualties.
'
The gangs are as touchy as nations about their tenitories. When a gang from
one neighborhood walks through another, that's considered an invasion and an act
of war. . ..
.
Real guns are so easy to come by that few of the teen-age hoods bother with
Zip-guns now.
.
When b?y and girl gang members start going steady, they exchange jackets or
nngs. I? Chicago, the gang code demands that a boy seldom travel with his girl
except Ill a car, called a "short." Frequently the boys steal the cars, in which case
they are called "hot shorts."
At on
.
e suburban Chicago high school last winter, nearly 100 boys and girls
crammed mto fifteen shorts, most of them hot, and systemically raided and demol
ishd a swanky North Shore dining place, causing damage that was estimated by
pohce at nearly $250,000. "When they asked me to go along with them, I had to," a
gang member explained. "If I didn't go along, they'd know I was chicken and I
couldn't live around here any more."
One night last month, nearly 40 young toughs crashed a Delta Upsilon fraterity
dance at the University of Chicago, hurled bottles, bricks, and clubs, stabbed a stu
dent in the back and beat up len others. "They had it coming to them," a Mum-Check
explained. "They always acted so superior. They thought they were better than us
because they went to college. We felt it was about time to take care of them anyway."
Two weeks ago, after a rumor got around that one gang [member] was dating
the girl friend of another gang's leader, the second gang grabbed baseball bats and
raced through the city streets in two cars seeking revenge. They savagely slugged
two boys, only to discover that neither boy was a member of the offending mob.
"Protection"
Steal-a-car clubs of six to eight teen-agers have become increasingly popular in
Chicago. So has the practice of girl mobsters beating up other girls simply for
laughs. The girl hoods also have adopted the practice of beating'up motorists. One
girl will play the part of a hitchhiker. When a car stops for her, the other girls will
swarm out of hiding and start pummeling the driver.
In elementary and high schools in both New York and Chicago, the hoods fre
quently will force other students to pay U1em "protection money." Several youngsters
who refused have been stabbed or slugged. Last year, OJJe of the hoods was killed by
Uuee boys who got tired of paying him for "protection."
Says a thoughtful juvenle expert: "These street-comer group societies are organ
ized on a system of values opposed to tl1e values of their parents and society. We
can't reach them through conventional means. The gangs are hostile to all organized
help. They are systematically attacking society. It's not an individual problem but a
group problem. Perhaps .the viciousness of mankind in the past few decades has
taken its ghastly toll on our youth."
What can be done about the teen-age gangs? Deuoit helped to solve the problein
by a get-tough policy. The police broke up the gangs. They established a curfew,
and they enforce it.
Wh:
Som
ins is
that i
with
May
---------
mt in the 19
)
127
:een-age gangs. OU1ers
antisocial. Officially,
h Board, which works
social ends.
rk, recornended to
be extended. And he
. feCOf
-, -rrr .. -- ut'F'VIUtll<LClJ $300,000 tO private
agencies working to prevent delinquency among youth.
3. U.S. New and World Report Assesses the Perils of
Mass Culture and the Evils of Television, 1955
The biggest of the new forces in American life today is television. There has been
nothi
.
ng like i
.
t in tle postwar decade, or in many decades before that-perhaps
not smce the mventJOn of the printing press. Even radio, by contrast, was a placid
expenence.
The impact of TV on this country has been so massive that Americans are still
wondering what hit them. Has the effect been good or bad? What permanent effects
on the American way of life may be expected? These and other questions are con
sidered in this survey.
Probably there are some people in the U.S. who have never seen a television
program, but you would have to go into the hills to find them. Two out of three U.S.
families now own their own sets, or are paying for them. In 32 million homes, TV
dials are flicked on and of, from channel to channel, at least 100 million times
between 8 A.M. and midnight.
Everywhere, children sit with eyes glued to screens-for three to four hours a
day on the average. Their parents use up even more time nesmerized by this new
marvel-or monster. They have spent 15 billion dollars to look since 1946.
Now, after nearly 10 years of TV, people are asking: "What hatl1 TV wrought?
, What is this tl1ing doing to us?"
Solid answrs to this question are very hard to get. Pollsters, sociologists, doc
tors, teachers, the TV people themselves come up with more contradictions than
conclusions whenever they start asking.
But almost everybody has an opinion and wants to air it.
What do these opinions add up to? People have strong views. Here are some
widely held convictions, both against and for television:
That TV has kept people from going places and doing things, from reading,
from thinking for themselves. Yet it is said also Umt TV has taken viewers vicariously
into suange and fascinating spots and situations, brought distinguished and enchant
ing people into their living rooms, given them a new perspective.
That TV has interfered with schooling, kept children from learing to read
and write, weakened their eyesight and softened their muscles. But there are those
who hold that TV has made America's youngsters more "knowing" about life,
"What TV Is Doing to America," Copyright, September 2, 1955, U.S. News and World /epor. Visit us
at our Web site at www.usnews.com for additional information.
(
-
..
(
128 /,Ia_ior Problems in American Histoty Si11ce 1945
more curious, given them a bigger vocabulary. Teaching by TV, educators say, is
going to be a big thing in the future.
That TV arouses morbid emotions in children, glorifies violence, causes
juvenile crime-that it starts domestic quarrels, tends to loosen morals and make
people lazy and sodden. However, it keeps families together at home, provides
a realm of cheap entertainment never before available, stimulates new lines of
conversation,
That TV is giving the U,S. an almost primitive language, made up of grunts,
whistles, standardized wisecracks and cliches-that it is turning the average Amer
ican into a stereotype. Yet it is breaking down regional barriers and prejudices,
ironing out accents, giving people in one part of the country a better understanding
of people in other parts. That TV is making politics "a rich man's game," turing
statesmanship into a circus, handing demagogues a new weapon. But it is giving
Americans their first good look at the inside of their Government, letting them
judge the people they elect by sight as well as by sound and fury.
That TV has distorted and debased Salesmanship, haunting people with
singing "commercials" and slogans. However, because or in spite of TV. people are
buying more and more things they never before thought they needed or wanted.
These are just some of the comments that people keep on making about TV
The experts say that it probably will be another generation before there is a finn
basis of knowledge about television's impact on America.
Today's TV child, the boy or girl who was born with a TV set in his home, is
too young to analyze his feelings. Older people, despite their frequent vehemence
about TV, are still far from sure whether they have all Aladdi1''s lamp or hold a bear
by the taiL
Goliath with Tubes
One thing you can be sure about. TV, a giant at 10, continues to grow like nobody's
business. Here are some figures and comparisons: The 15 billion dollars that the
U.S, people have invested in TV sets and repairs since the war is 15 per cent more
than the country spent for new school and college buildings. About a billion more has
gone into TV stations and equipment.
TV-viewing time is going up, not down, latest surveys show. This explodes the
theory that people would taper off on television "once they got used to it."
"Pull" of popular TV programs is believed to be very effective. Pollsters report
that three times as many people will leave a meal to answer questions at the door as
will gel up to abandon "Dragnet."
The number of families holding out against TV is declining to a small fraction.
There still are 16 million families without sets, but most of these families either
can't pay for sets or else live out of range of TV signals.
On an average evening, twice as many set owners will be watching TV as are
engaged in any other form of entertainment or leisure activity, such as movie-going,
card playing, or reading. Seven out of 10 American children watch TV between 6
and 8 o'clock most evenings.
'ysts are intrigued by the evidence that adults, not children, are the real tele-
visiL /s. The newest trend in viewing habits is a rise in the number of housewives
Affuettce and Disco11tmt ilz tile 19: 129
who watch TV in the moring. One out of five with a set now watches a morning
show with regularity.
What Is It?
Why do people want TV? A $67.50-per-week shoe repairman in San Francisco,
puts it about as plainly as anyone can. "TV," he says, "is the only amusement I can
afford,'' That was the reason he gave for paying four weeks' wages for his set.
The cobbler's comment explains TV's basic Jure. It is free entertainment except
for the cost of [the l set, and repairs and electricity. It becomes so absorbing that a
broken set is a family catastrophe. People will pay to have the set fixed before they
will pay the milk bill, if necessary.
What does TV do to people? What do people do with TV? The researchers are
digging into these questions all the time. In general, they come to theories, rather
than conclusions. There are three main theories:
THEORY "A": This is widely held by people whose professions bring them into
close contact with juveniles-judges, district attomeys, police officers, ministers.
It assumes that TV is bound to be affecting the American mind and character because
it soaks up one to five hours a day or more that used to be spent in outdoor play, in
games requiring reasoning and imagination, or in reading, talking, radio listening,
or movie-going,
Even the more passive of these pursuits, the theory runs, required more exercise
of brain than does TV watching. Then, too, many TV programs, the theorists say,
are violent or in questionable taste,
Net effect, according to these people, is a wasting away or steady decline in
certain basic sklls among American youngsters. Children lose the ability to read,
forfeit their -physical dexterity, strength, and initiative.
Some see a defil1ite connection between TV and juvenile delinquency. The
Kefauver Subcommittee of the Senate Judiciary Conunittee has just explored this
aspecL It stated:
"Members of the subcommittee share the concer of a large segment of the
thinking public for the implications of the impact of this medium [television] ...
upon the ethical and cultural standards of the youth of America, It has been unable
to gather proof of a direct casual relationship between the viewing of acts of crime
and violence and the actual performance of criminal deeds. It has not, however,
found irrefutable evidence that young people may not be negatively influenced in
their present-day behavior by the saturated exposure they now receive to pictures
and drama based on an underlying theme of lawlessness and crime which depict
human violence."
THEORY "B": Mainly held by sociologists, communications economists,
pollsters. This is that television is changing the American mind and character,
although nobody knows for sure just how. The evidence is too fragmentary. The
analysts are disturbed by some aspects of TV's effect on viewers. Some think TV
is conditioning Americans to be "other directed," that is, getting the ideas from
someone else. The early American, by contrast, is supposed to have been "inner
directed," a man who thought things out for himself on the basis of his own
reasoning.
)
130 Major Problems i11 Americmt History Si11ce 1945
A fancy name fo this suspected efect of TV is "narcotic disfunction." This
means that more and more men come home in the evening, drop into a chair in
front of the TV set after supper and slip into a dream world of unreality.
However, the same researchers confess that TV can have a broadening influence,
bringing to the masses a taste of the arts and sciences, a peek into govermnent that
they couldn't get any other way.
THEORY "C": This is what the TV .people themselves like to think. It is that
television is rapidly becoming "one more service" to the U.S. public, another medium
such as newspapers, magazines, radio. Some people watch TV a lot, others vety little.
Most people want a set around, but some don't lean on it.
The TV people minimize the idea that TV is dominating American life. It. is
almost as if they were afraid their own baby is getting too big. What they usually say
is that the people who allow their lives to be controlled by television were similarly
dominated by radio and the movies-and that they are only a small minority.
The TV Habit
What do the theorists base their theories on? What have they found out about the
place of the TV set in American life?
Many studies have been made of the "TV habit." Latest of these indicates that
TV viewing reaches a peak just after a set enters a home, then falls off rather sharply.
Next, viewing begins to rise again in the average home, building up, evidently, to
ward a new peak that is not yet measured.
The A. C. Nielsen Company, a market research organization that attaches
mechanical recorders to sets in private homes, finds this: During the 12 months
ended in April 1955, average use per day of TV sets was 4 hours and 50 minutes.
That was up 4 per cent over the year before ....
Other studies indicate that women watch TV more than men do. Children,
contrary to general impression, watch TV less than adults in the average home.
Persons low in income, education, or job status as a rule spend more time in front
of TV sets than those with more money and education.

What's on TV
What do people get on TV? What do they want? Three out of every four TV pro
grams are entertaimnent shows .... In a typical week of the peak TV season, in
Januruy of last year, crime, comedy, variety, and Westem shows accounted for 42.7
per cent of all TV program time on New York City screens. News accounted for
6.1 per cent of TV time-about the same share of time as was taken by quiz, stunt,
and contest shows. Other informational types of TV shows, such as interviews,
weather reports, travelogues, children's instructional programs, and cooking classes,
got 16.2 per cent of the time.
Rating figures tend to show that people are getting just about what they want. in
the opinion of the broadcasting industry. According to the "popularity" ratings of top
shows, comedy and drruna and straight entertaimnent are outpulling everything else.
What about information? The popularity cards seem to indicate the reaction is
a stifled yawn. In a two-week period last June, when two comedy programs, the
.
I
Affufllce a11d Discontmt irtlhe 195C . 31
I
"George Gobel Show" and "I Love Lucy," were at the top of the list, each reaching
more than 13 million homes, the top-ranking informational programs were way
down the lirie. The "March of Medicine," for example, was No. 62, reaching 6.57
million homes; "Meet the Press" was No. 150, getting to 1.14million families.
Studies also have been made of how long various programs hold their audiences.
Love and adventure performances, it develops, will keep about 35 per cent of the
audience to the end. By contrast, the most gripping historical sketches hold only 65
per cent, and many hold less than one third of their starting viewers. Informational
programs, again, rank near the bottom in "holding power.' '
Television c1itics, who write about TV programs in newspapers and magazines,
are frequently harsh in their remarks about violence, sadism, bad taste on the
screen. However, Dallas W. Smythe; a professor of communications economics at
the University of Illinois, analyzed New York City programs for 1955 and concludes
that programs which critics liked best seldom drew the biggest audiences.
The public is fickle. Top rating is hard to hold. The viewers tire rapidly of a
particular show unless the producers manage to come up with fresh material, new
appeals.
.
I
ISSUE 13
Were the 1950s America's uHappy Days"?
YES: Melvn Dubofsky and A than Theoharis, from Imperial Democracy: Tile
United Stales Since 1945, 2d ed. (Prentice Hall, 1988)
NO: Douglas T. Miller and Marion Nowak, from Te Fifties: The Way We
eally Were (Doubleday, 1977)
Sin.ce the mid-1970s, Americans have used the 1950s as the standard by which
all future successes and failures are measured. Cable television replays old
shmvs espousing the family values that Americans most admire. But what
were the 1950s really like? Was the period truly America's "Happy Days"?
Mos't people agree that America i the 1950s became, i the words of
economist John Kermeth Gailbraith, Tlte Affuent Society (Houghton Mifflin,
1958). Because the United States was physically untouched during World War
II, it was instrumental i rebuilding the economies of the major noncommu
nist countries in Europe and Asia through the use of the Marshall Plan, Point
Four Program, and other foreign aid programs.

At home the expected postwar recession and depression never occurred.
Controlling inflation while stabilizing employment became the primary con
cers of the economists. During the war American workers had built up over
$140 billion in savigs. Hungry for consumer goods they had been unable
to acquire i the years .from 1942 through the middle of 1945, Americans
went on a JY'-csive consumer buying spree-one that has continued to the
present da' )


There v however, some disturbing economic trends in the 1950s. Pover-
' .,.
:.
. _.}:

miners in Appalachia. Large corporations were buyig up smaller ones, and

individual farms were coming under the control of agribusiess. Income
inequality also increased: In 1949 the top 1 percent of the population owned
19 percent of the nation's wealth; by 1960 they owned 33 percent.
If the rich got richer, so too did millions of other Aericans. As Michael W.
Schuger points out in his article "Te 1950s: A Retrospective View," Nebrsk
History (Spring 1996), "Average family income, which was $3,000 in 1947,
increased dramatically to $5,400 in 1959. The gross national product increased
from $318 billion i 1950 to $440 billion in 1960. Between 1945 and 1960 the
real eaming power of the average wage eamer increased by 22 percent."
In spite of this pleasant lifestyle, America became an anxiety-ridden society
in the 1950s. World War II ended in the defeat of fascism, but a cold war
developed against America's forer ally the Soviet Union, which seemed
bent on spreading communism not only throughout Eastem Europe but also
across the entire world. Te United States extended economic and military
assistance to Greece and Turkey i 1947 and two years later formed the first
peacetime alliance in history--lhe North Atlantic Treaty Organization-in
order to contain the spread of communism. Although Westem Europe stood
fast, leaks sprang up i other parts of the world.
Crime, corruption, and communism seemed rampant in the 1950s. TI1e
news was spread by television. In 1946 there were only 7 television sets
in the entire country; by 1960 they numbered over 50 million. Politicians
filled the void on daytime television with an endless parade of hearings.
Juvenile deliquency, it was argued, resulted from a moral breakdown in
the home and community. Comic books and rock and roll music were held
to be the culprits, and the city council of Jersey City solved the problem
by banning rock and roll music at all school dances. Meanwhile, Senator
Joseph McCarthy continued his search for communists i the goverment
but overreached himself when he bullied high-level military officials in his
senatorial investigation of the army in 1954. Eisenhower's powerful chief
of stff, Sherman Adams, resigned amidst allegations that he received gifts
from a contractor. T1e goverent panicked when the Russias launched
the earth-orbiting Sputnik I satellite into space i October 1957. Could Ivan
read better than Johnny? Had America lost its ro'ral leadership and prestige (
i the eyes of the world, as two goverent reports indicated in 1960?
4
In the first of the followig selections, Melvyn Dubofsky and A than Teo
haris argue that throughout the 1950s, the United States domiated much of (
the world's economy. At home the country experienced a period of unprece
dented growth and prosperity for nearly two-thirds of the population, which
made it into the middle class. In the second selection, Douglas T. Miller and_
Marion Novak assert that the decade was a era domiated by the need to
conform and feelings of fear about the bomb, commuist rime, and the
loss of a national purpose.
)
YES

*
)
Melvn Dubofsky and
Athan Theoharis
IMPERIAL DEMOCRACY: THE
UNITED STATES SINCE 1V9O
ECONOMIC GROWTH AND A CONSUMER SOCIETY
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From Melvyn Dubofsky and A than Theoharis, Imperial Democracy: Tire United Stales Since 1945,
2d ed. (Prentice Hall, 1988). Copyright 1988 by Prentice Hall, Inc., Upper Saddle River, NJ.
Reprinted by permissioh. Notes omitted.
296
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n
ZVlJ3. WElc THE JVbU8AMERICA'S "HAPPY DAYS"?
.

workers, iI nov endangercd Ihejob se-
curiIy oI miIIions oI whiIe-coIIar cIerks.
Even poIiIiciuns,eager IoprcdicIbeIore-
handIheresuIIsoIeIecIions,worshipped
aIIheshrineoIIhehigh-speedmaInIrame
compuIer ....
Cnereason IorIhesuccessoIIhe new
growIh indusIries was Iheir cIose Iink
Io Ihe OeparImenI oI Defense, posIwar
AmericasIargesIsingIebusinessconIrac-
Ior.1Je!enIagonsuppIiedaIavishmar-
keIIoreIecIronicand chemicaImanuIac-
Iurers,asiIsdeadIynucIearmissiIeswiIh
Iheir eIaboraIe guidance sysIems reIied
on synIheIics, IrasisIorized moduIes,
andadvancedcompuIers.EvenIhemore
mundanehardwareusedLyinIanIry,ar-
IiIIery,andnonnucIearaircraIIdepended
heaviIy on eIecIronic componenIs and
compuIerized guidance.IASA Ioopro-
videdaneconomicbonanzaIorIheworId
oI eIecIronics.
"
iIhouI IransisIors, com-
puIers, and chemicaI IueIs, Ihere wouId
have been no IIighI m space, no man
onIhemoon.eIween govemenIcon-
IracIsand consumer demund Iorhouse-
hoId appIiances [househoId use oI eIec-
IriciIy IripIed H Ihe I950s), Ihe roWIh
indusIriesprosperedenomousIy.
American agricuIIure changedas weII
mIheposIwarera]anningbecameabig
business.AgricuIIuraI producIiviIy rose
morerapidIyIhandemadIorIoodsIuIIs
IormosIoIIheIirsIIwoposIwardecades,
1orcingmiIIionsoIsmaIIerIarmersoIIIhe
Iand, and Iarge Iarmers prospered as a
resuII oI govemmenI subsidy programs
andIheirown eIIiciency.ecauseproduc-
Iion rose so rapidIy, prices Ior agricuI-
IuraI goods decIined, and proIiIs couId
be made onIy by Iowering uniI cosIs
oIproducIionIhroughnIensiveappIica-
IionoIIerIiIizers,useoIcosIIynewIajn
machnery, and inIroducIion oI sophis-
IicaIed manageriaI Iechnigues. SmaIIer
'
IassimpIyIackedIheresourcesan
]

ass

nsumpIion depended on con-

capiIaIIopurchaseIerIiIizer,acguireneW

sIanuy

nspgrealwageIeveIs,acondiIion
machinery,undhirecosIIymanageriaIe\-
IqeUmIedSIaIeseconomysusIainedbe-
perIs.1JeyaIso Iacked enoughIa
_]
I

I
^
een'4band'G0 y'bGIhereaIin-
makeIheuseo!epensivenewmacqin

c
_
eoIIheaverageAmericanwasmor_
ery proIi

abIe or Iojoin Ihe soiI bank,a

ah b0 percenIgreaIe

IhaniIhadbeen
pro
[
amIendedIopropoIesoiIconse

!
-
, an

by
'G0 wasJb percenI

vaInbypayihgIarmerscashsubsi]
ies
's'-
th
a Ihadbeen il Ihelast yearo
IoIeIsomeoIIheirIandIieIaIIow!ne
WcrId
"
ar
``
words, because mosI IederaI Iam pu
How Iypica

Americans spe

I their
grams and subsidies were dirccIIy prc

ucreased eamiI\gs was deIermitied as

porIionaI Io1a;q size and producIi
,
iI
m

'
hbyexIe
aIIacIorsasbyinIrinsic
Iarge Iarmers received proporIionaIeI

eaIpersona
l
ne
e
s.deed,IheIargerthe
more beneIiIs Ihan saII Iarers.
_
ccme an iI\dIvIduaI eamed Ihe more
beneIiciaries oI IederaI Iargesse, Ihe
_
cice h

or she had in

iI

s disposI
IamersaIsoposscssedIheIand, capiIa,
_

s gro
^
iIg numbers oI ciuzens saIis
ad knowIedgenecessary IogrowIcc
_
Iie
]
IheIr need Ior Ioo andsheIIer, Ih,
adIibersmosIeIIicienIIy.onsegue
_
II
_

anuIacIurersoIaIIracIivebuInonessen

Ihe percentage oIowner-operaIedIaz

hal goods competed lustily IoIhe con ..
rose, andIhe sizeoIIheIypicaIIai
_
s
ersdoIIar.

creased subsIanIiaIIyoIIonproducIic
!
o seII Ihe auIos, reIngeraIors, ish
shiIIedawayIromIheSouIh,wherei
[

^
ashers
sIereo sets, and oII

e a
`
li
mained proIiIabIeonIy onIheexIre
_
eI

ances IhaI roIIed oII producII

n III\es,
Iarge pIanIaIion, IoIheimmenseccgu

manuIacI

rersr

esorIed I
[
adIson Av-
raIe, irrigaIed Iarms oI (egas, Arizcna

e
nu
end
illtensrve adverIsirg.Between
andsouIhemaliIopa,]armingih

and'b/expendiIuresonadverIis
prosperous agricuIIuraI sIaIes as

aI
"
\creased by

aosIJ00percenI, ris-
Io\ia, Arizona, and ]Iorida was

usII
s
Ioover$'0bIlIionahnuaIIy.[oI

Iy
IabeIed agribusihess," _
some c
a
5
__ '
]

oney devoIed Io adverusp_

indusIriaI corporaIions, ]enneco a
_
c

5
F
sIgniIIcahIIy, buIIhe Iords oI Ma

i
oIhers,purchasedIargeIam\s....
: s

n Avenu

aIsode

veIopedmoresophis
ItcaIedseIIing Iacucs.SuccessIuI adver
; Iisingwascomp,icaIedwhenconsumer
A0Iuence andConsupIicn
a
]
IoseIecIIrom

amongb

eakI

sIce

e
1Je sIabiliIy oI Ihe Ame
ica poIiIi
__

'
.-IhaIdIIIerednerIheril

pjc
_
and economic sysIem as wej
I as I

_
cr uIil
!
Iyand aIsohadIobe convpced
absenceoIworkmgcIassdisconIenI1 '
Icbuy produc

Isnever beIore manuIac-

miIiIancy IIowed Irom Ihe successIu
Iured EmpIoyIrg IheIooIsoInormal
creaIionoIamassconsuersocieIy
_, (a
d abnormaI
psychoIogy, ad

erIiserz
carm every garageandchicken ineve
_ : '''~ \onsumers Io the psg\h,

bene

poI which Hoovcr und Ihe jepubIic

z
,_ '
oI Iarger_ cars, sweeter-smellmg
_
hadpromisedAmericansinJ

arrive
_
erai

s, sInp

d _toothpaste

and }arI
in Ihe '50s.And now iI aIso In
u]e
_
cr
IhemansigareIIe.nghIerIeeIh
beefsteaks, coIorIeIevision,sIereophc

i
M
ad
i
sonAvenueilied,guaranteedev

sound, andsuburbanspIiI-IeveIs.
, et,waIIIIoweradesIrabIehusband,and
b'.
YES Dubofsky andx._ _naris /ZVV
Ihe cigariIIo won every man a buxom
and accommodaImg Iemale. AbIe Io
aIIocaIe money and IaIenI Io Ihe one-
minuIe IeIevision spoI,adverIisersbcm-
bardedviewerswiIhirresisIibIecommer-
ciaIs.MadisonAvenue sales campaigs
goIsuchgoodresulIsH IhemarkeIpIace
tlaI in tie many candidaIes Ior pub-
IicoIIicesubsIiIuIedIheone-minuIeIeIe-
vision spoI Ior Ihe halI-hour pIaIlorm
speech. y Ihe 'G0s, Madison Avenue
soId presidenIsasweIIas!onIiacs, con-
gressmen asweIIasadiIIacs.

More Ihan adverIising was reguired

Io creaIe Ihe posIwar consumer socieIy
jegardIessoIIhereaIiIyoIrismgwages,
miIIions oI ciIizens sIiII Iacked income
suIIicienI Io saIisIy Iheir demand Ior
goods. A J50 Census Bureau survey
oI over /,000 IamiIies, Ior exampIe,
showed IhaI G0 percenI have eanings
oI $4,000 or Iess sponI nore than
tley eamed. Even Ihosevorkers whose
incomesexceeded IheircurrenI expenses
seIdomhadamarginoIsavingsadequate
Io su sIain Ihe cash purchase oI such
cosIIy durabIes as auIos and Iarge
home appIiances. nIy by borrowing
money on Ihe assumpIion IhaI higher
IuIureeamingswouIdrenderrepaymenI
painIesscouIdmosIciIizenssaIisIyIheir
desireIor carsanddishwashers.
AsadverIisingsIimuIaIedIhedemand
1or consumer goods, Ihe naIions Iinan-
ciaIInsIiIuIionsIinaced Iheir purchase.
eIween '16 nd !
b7, privaIe indebI-
ednessincreasedbyJG0percenIincon
IrasI, IoIaI pubIic debI rose by onIy '1
percenIand IheIederaIdebIacIuaIIyde-
cIined.}ore.-.i..:-sIiIIwasthe rise
in consumer installment indebtedness;
the estimated al ent credit
ouIsIandingsoaredIrcmjusIover$4biI-
lion u J4G Ioover $34 DiIIion u J57.
AuIomobiIeinslaIImenIcrediIaIonerose
:
'

i
|
i
300 I 13. WERE )950s AMERICAS "HAPPY DAYS"?
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The Triumph of the Suburbs

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\
302 /13. WERE 1 nc 1950s AMERICA'S "HAPPY DAYS"?
autos. Just as Ford offered a basic car i
a single color at a low price, Levitt sold a
standardized dwelling unit in one color
-white-at a price within the reach of
thousands of workig-class Americans.
His original "little boxes" constructed i
. the first Levittown i central Long Island
soon had cotmterparts i New Jersey and
Pensylvania.
Suburbia in general and Levittown in
particular occasioned a new iage of
American society, one consonant with
the concept of a mass consumer public.
Suburbia, in the words of social critic
ad plrmer Lewis Mumford, offered the
prospect of
a multitude of uniform, identifiable
houses, lined up infexibly, at uniform
distances, on uniform roads, in a treeless
communal waste, inhabited by people
of the same class, the same income,
the same age group, witnessing the
same television performances, eating
the same tasteless prefabricated foods,
from the same freezers, conforming in
every outward and inward respect to a
common mold+
I the "little boxes made of ticky tacky,"
about which Pete Seeger sang, lived
William F Whyte's "organization men"
who i their haste to adjust smoothly to
their fellow junior executives became as
undifferentiated as the houses in which
they dwelled.
Critics of suburbia mouted a contra
dictory attack against the emergig char
acter of national life. On the one hand,
they charged suburban residents with
uniformity, dullness, and unthinking ac
commodation to neighborhood mores.
On the other hand, they indicted subur
banites, as did John Keats in Tile Crack in
the Picture Window, for alcoholism, adul
tery (wife-swapping was said to be the fa-
vorite indoor suburban sport), and juve.
nile delinquency. Whatever the
.

of the criticism, it seemed to miss the
mark, for suburban growth proceeded
unabated.
-"

In fact most social criticism portrayed
a fctional suburbia, not its reality. By the .
late 1950s America suburbs contained
as rany differences as similarities;
was no single ideal-type suburban
..
munity. Communities of upwardly ro, .
bile young executives who preferred ac" ; ,
commodation to conflict, uniformity to '
idividualism, such as William F Whyte
located i Chicago's environs, did exist. ':.
So, too, did commuities of wealthy se_
nior executives and rentiers, whose i
comes and security enabled them to ex
periment with architecture and engage in
eccentric behavior. At the other end of `
the suburban spectrum, one could find
working-class developments whose resi
dents had moved from the city but had .
scarcely altered their life style; they stil '
voted Democratic, preferred baseball to
ballet, and the company of relatives to
that of neighbors. Even the allegedly
undifferentiated, standardized world of
Levittown contained, as the sociologist
Herbert Gans discovered, a uiverse of
strikingly idividualized homes. Levit
towners wasted no time in applying per-
sonal touches and preferences to the stan- .
dardized homes and creating a 'society i .
.
which, accordig to Gans, they felt ver
much at home and comfortable ... .
MASS CULTURE AND ITS CRITICS. :
The affluence of the 1950s and 1960s laid ..
the basis for what
.
came to be known
as "mass culture." Never before had so
much music, drama, and literature been
accessible to so many people as a result
.'.
of fundamental changes in the presenta- ,
tion of entertainment and enlightenent.
Tlevision, the long-playing record, i-
.
sound-reproduction equipment,
paperback books brought a plethora
cultural forms withi reach of the great
of Americans.
Once again, as had happened during
:
.. the 1920s, Americans celebrated their ex
. ceptional prosperity. A new hedonism
symbolized by oversized, overpowered


crs crammed with options ad adored
outside with two-tone color patters,

viyl tops, and fns captivated con
sumers. Americans relished a culture of
. consume, enjoy, and dispose. We were, i
te words of the historian David Potter,
1'people of plenty."
Not everyone, to be sure, joied in
te American celebration. Some critics
raised questions about the quality of
. life. Whereas once left-wing intellectuals
:
.
had lamented the ubiquity of poverty
.ad exploitation, they now bewailed a
. consumer society i which shoppers had
. become as indistinguishable from each
: other as the merchandise they purchased.
_ A few critical voices cried out i
the wilderess. Te idustrial sociologist
_ William F Whyte portrayed in scholarly
: detail the culture of the prototypical sue
.
cess story of the 1950s, the rising young
. corporate executive, the hero of best
: selling novelist Sloan Wilson's Jze Man in
; tile Gray Flannel Suit. Whyte showed these
young executives as insecure, status-
. driven people who lived transitorily in
suburban developments housig only
their own kind, and as "organization
who molded their personalities to
. suit the corporate iage. The radical and
: idiosyncratic scholar C. Wright Mills dis
.
cemed a bleak future in his 1951 book,
.White Collar. He described a society of
men and women who worked without
autonomy or direction, who strived only
YES Dubofsky and Theoharis f 303
for status, and who lived as dependent
beigs, not free citizens. In White Collar,
one glimpsed an American mass poten
tially susceptible to producing fascism, as
their Italian and German likes had i the
1920s and 1930s.
David Riesman, the premier critic of
mass society, early on diagnosed the new
American disease i The Lonely Crowd
(1950). Americans once, he wrote, had
been an iner-di::ected people, men ad
women who could distinguish right from
wrong, who could chart their own di
rections and goals in life. Now, Ameri
cans had become an other-directed peo
ple, who lacked their own interal moral
compasses. The great mass of postwar
An1ericans lost themselves in a "lonely
crowd" to which they looked for values
ad personal decisions. Te independent
democratic citizen had become a cypher
in the clutches on an anonymous mass
society.
Such tendencies toward mass society
caused a minority of Amercans to worry
that .the nation had lost its sense of
purpose amidst a flood of consumer
goods. They wondered if mass society
could rise above the level of a car dealer's
showroom.
But the great mass of Americans
shared no such worries. Those who could
consumed as never before, and those who
couJd not aspired to do the same . ...
The Culture of Consensus
The hard edges of the Cold War and
the tensions of McCarthyism had been
softened i the United Sates of the late
1950s by the smiles, platitudes, and
tranquility of the Eisenhower era. It was
a tie to consume, to achieve, and to
celebrate.
Intellectuals and writers who for much
of th twentieth century had been at war
..* .
304/13. WERl ! 1950s AMERICAS "HAPPY DAYS"? r
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306/13. WERE 'L - 1950s AMERICAS "HAPPY DAYS"?
culture promoted by .television laid the
foundation for the 1elative quiescence
of the Eisenhower era. Eisenhower's
ability to dampen old political feuds,
to legitimate the New Deal "revolution"
as he castigated overgrown goverent
ad "creeping socialism," his success at
' softening the harsher aspects of the Cold
War, and his taming of the worst e;o:'t'. '
of McCarthyism reinforced the aura
complacency associated with the 1
Ike's mid-America, small-town
his wide, winig gri, and his
assured most Americans that all was
at home and abroad.
)
NO
..
Douglas T. Miller and
Marion Nowak
THE FIFTIES: THE WAY WE REALLY WERE
Hula hoops, bunny hops, 3-D movies. Davy Crockett coonskis, chloro
phyll toothpaste, 22 collegians stuffed into a phone booth. Edsels and tail
finned Cadillacs. Greasy duck' s-ass hairdos, leather jackets, souped-up hot
rods, dragging, cruising, mooning. Like crazy, man, dig? Kefauver hearings,
Howdy Doody, Kukla, Fran and Ollie, Hridey Murphy, Charles Van Doren,
Francis Gary Powers. Te Catcher in the Rye, Tze Power of Positive Tizinking;
Howl, 01 t/ze Road. Patti Page, Pat Boone, Vic Damone; Little Richard, Chuck
Berry, Elvis Presley; The Platters, The Clovers, The Drifters; Bill Haley and
'
the
Comets, Danny and the Juniors. Matle, Mays, Marciano. Pink shirts, gray
flannels, white bucks. I LIKE IKE:
THE FABULOUS FIFTIES!-or so 1970s nostalgia would lead one to be
lieve. A 1972 issue of Newsweek, complete with Marilyn Monroe cover, ex
plored this phenomenon tmder the heading "Yearing for the Fifties: 1he
Good Old Days." "It was a simple decade," Newsweek writers recalled, "when
hip was hep, good was boss." That same year Lie magazine remiisced about
"The Nifty Fifties"-"it's been barely a dozen years since the '50s ended and
yet here we are again, awash in the trappings of that sunnier time."
TI1is wistful view of the fifties first became evident about 1971 and 1972.lt
quickly exploded into a national craze that still pervades the popular images
of the mid-century era. Numerous examples of fifties nostalgia exist in the
seventies. It was the theme of movies like American Grafti, The Last Picture
5/zaw, Let the Goad Times Roll, and The Way We Were. Television shows "Happy
Days" and "Lavere ad Shirley" recreated an idyllic fifties world of youth
and innocence. Te T show "M*A *S*H" even managed to make people a
little homesick for the Korean War. By February 1976, the fifties rock-and
roll parody Grease began its fifth season. It had become Broadway's longest
ring show by far, and this despite the fact that it never had nae stars,
hit songs, or a high budget.
Popular music in this post-Beatles period also saw a major revival o
fities rock. By the mid-seventies Elvis Presley, Chuck Berry, Rick Nelson,
Fats Domino, Little Ricard, and Bil Haley a
g
ain were drawing
mass audi-
Frm Douglas T. Miller and Marion Nowak, T/lf' Fities: The Way We Really Were (Doubleday
1977). Copyright 1977byDouglas T. Miller. Reprinted by permission. Notes omitted.
307
308/13. WER ' 1JbSAMERICAS "HAPPY DAYS"?
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_IUU[S. YC UUHU!SCCK !UICCS!/uCI-
ICH SUCIC!y. YC UU SCCK H CVCIIISIH_
S!HUIU U!IVH_ UyWHICHWCuCHHU!
UH!y uUIC uUHCy UU!uUIC!CISUICHU
!ICHCI CU!!UI! !IC.
CISUIC DU CU!!UIC~1DCIICHS !UUK
!U!HCSCSHCVCI UCUIC./UUU!UHC SIX!H
U !! [CISUH! IHCUuC WS S[CH! UH
!CISUIC [UISUI!S. I ICCUIU UICC [CU[!C
[IHICUUyDUuUCIS, UIHK, _IUCHCU,
W!CHCU T, !IVC!CU, !IS!CHCU !U uU
SIC, HUH!CU DU ISHCU, ICU Reader's Di
gest CUHUCHSCU UUUKS. UIH_-I!-0HCSCU
UCCuC H!IUH! U. LVCIy!HIH_ IUu
HUuC [C!uHCH!S !U UU! UUI!Uu_ HU
uI!IUHSUuICUI[IC!I!UHCIS.I lVo4
I! WS IC[UI!CU !H! 70 [CI CCHI U !!
W![[CI UUU_H! WS HuD_ Uy HUVICCS,
.,
;,:'
.t
t
310 /13. WERE THE 1950s AMERICAS "HAPPY DAYS"?
WDIC SDHC 11 DIDDD WCCKCDU CI[CD~
ters drilled, sawed, ad sanded some
180 SQUIC DICS D QyWDDU WI!D !DCII
25 DIIDD QDWCI !DDS. I LdIDDI,
!DC Pan PdCIfIC LD1!~JDUISC ODDW CVCD
CX1IUI!CU SCQdIdlC [ICCCS of UI that
CDUU UC dSSCDUCU ID!D d UD-I!~yDUISC
mik coat. For persons of d more seden
!dIy D!UIC, FDCIICD IDUUS!Iy QIDUUCCU
QUdDtI!ICS D dDUSID_ ]UKCI_IC!!C
I_D!CIS !Dd! QyCU ODDKC LC!S ID
XDUI LyCS, WDISKyVDICU !DD!DQdS!C,
DuK-!IIDDCU CD!DCSQIDS, NCDUS !DDlD-
[1CKS, |yDC wDSICU DD!-W!CI UD!!CS.
CIICDS CDUU UD ]US! dUDU! dDy-
!DIH_. \I SD d! CS! !DCy WCIC !DU ID
hundreds of books purportedly revealing
the secrets of how to make love, how to
tap one's secret source of strength, DDW
to DIX d good DdI!IDI, how to _C! !DID DI
d!, DDW !D UC QD[UI QDWCIU, dDDUS,
IICD.
But it WdS Cu|lurc that America boost
ers UDdS!CU of most. \DCC in a great
WDIC d SDCIC!y CXQDUCS i d DDU D
DCW IUCdS, DCW !S!CS, DCW S!DUIUS,
claimed Fenton Turck ID a 1952 Kccdcr
LigcsI dI!ICC. F ICSD DU CXCI!ID_ d_C
CDCI_CS, IVC WI!D CXQDUID_ DQ[DI~
tunities. Today's Americans dIC living
in DDC D \DCSC CX!IdDIUIDdIy QCIIDUS.
UICK !KCU D _IC! DWCIu_ D CU-
lUIC. FS CVIUCDCC D !DIS DC CI!CU SUC
!DH_S S IDCICdSCU d!!CDUDCC at CDD~
CCI!S, DQCI, and !DC!CI. FI! DUSCUDS,
DQCI CDDQDICS, dDU SyDQDDDy DICDCS~
!IdS DU!I[ICU i !DC I!IC5, S UIU !DC
SdC of QUdI!y [dQCIUCKS and classical
ICCDIUS.
LU!UIC DU S!d!US d[[C dDU D
IDCICSCU [DI!IDD D !DC [DQU!IDD DdU
UD!D !DC CISUIC DU DDDCy !D UUUC ID
I!. CID[S !DC d[D_CC D !DC CIS CU!UIC
UDDD WdS ICCDCU u F[II 1960, WDCD
!DC IKC-CDC! LCIICS DCU a DU_C
I! UC!IDD !D UCDCI! !DC wUSCUm
wDUCD FI!. DC CW `DIK LI!y U0!I0H
IDDD WS IIDKCU VI CDSCUCIICUI! T
!D SIDII IDDDS i LDIC_D, LdS, and
Los 1D_CCS. DC UC!IDD WS
.
SUCCCSS, a 1!IilID WCD! !D d Oah:
DIIDDIIC DI $20,000, F LCZDDC !0
CW York CCC!DI for $200,000.
DD DS I!U_ DU ICdCDCU u0
$10,000 ICVC UCDIC yDDC DD!I0CU I|
WS DUD_ UQSIUC UDWD. YC`IC I0d0j
DI DUI ICDISSDCC, CIDCU [DCt Iour .
1D!CDCyCI d! DIUUCCdUC. YCS!Wd|0 .
!DC CDUISC D CU!UIC!
I UUI!IDD !D CCCUI!ID_ 1mCII0W
culture and IVID_ standards, mdj
people saw the United 5ta|es m J ,

middle D the !WCD!IC!D CCD!UIy dS Ddvmg

d QCCUIdI DU QIDVIUCD!Id DiSSIon ''W :

IC IVu_ ID DDC D !DC _IC! W!CISD00
QCIIDUS D DIS!DIy, dSSCI!CU LCDD0Id|I!

QICSIUCD!I DDDIDCC FUI O!CVCD50

ID the 1952 CDQI_D. VS CI Uj
WC !X !DC Qd!!CD D CIVIIZd\IDD 0! .
DHy _CDCId!IDDS !D CDDC. LDU DdS
for US an dWCSDDC DISSIDD. DD!\d_'
CSS !DD !DC CdUCISDI[ D !DC It

WDIU. +C CUJ!DIS D Ior!unc C! |h
same. JDCIC CDDC !IIIICS ID !DC DIS|0Q
of CveIy QCD[C, !DCy WID!C, whra

UCS!Uy K1DCKS OD !DCU UDDI WI!D a.
IIDD 1DSIS!CDCC. I 1DCIICaD DIS!DQ :
!DCy ICdU I!, UCS!IDy DdU so KDD0Kc0
!DICC !IDCS \DCC WDCH WC CCU !0

SCCDID_y IuQDSSIUC DUUS D II|0
QDWCI !D _dID DUI IDUCQCDUCDCC. DD00 __

1DI! OUD!CI, WDCD we faced the U000j
!SK D QICSCIVu_ DUI UDIDD. DU I! i .!
KDD0KID_ !DUy [1951] ..+ + \UI DU!00K
IS !DC SDC dS I! WS ! !DC !IDC D U
VCVDU!IDD, DU _ID ! !DC !IDC D th:
LIVI YI. !DC SDQC D !DID_S !D C0H
UC[CDUS DD US. UUI DDI UCCISIDD,
WISUDD, DUI VISIDD, DU DUI WII.
That America WDUU SUCCCCU m UI
m I!S \DU_IVCD DISSIDD CW UDUU!CU.
: J\C U!UIC WS UII_D!. \UI SQIII!U

I0dU D[, [ICUIC!CU [DIDSDQDCI wDI1IS

LUS!, WI CIIy !DC UIICC!IDD QDID!CIS
1976-+1IS Yy~LDCI_y, CISUIC, 1UU
IC.
Yet despite the varied and fIegUCDt

Y0ISIDDS D FDCIICd !DC CU!IU,

00UU!S DU dDXIC!ICS WCIC dSD QICSCD!.
. JlC fifties was a time of tensions and

B5CCUII!ICS. LdIy u !DC UCCdUC !DC

\I5Uy DQ!IDIS!IC Norman Vincent Peale
_ _ s[DkC of an "epidemic of fear and worr"
m !DC 1DI!CU O!!CS. F UDC!DIS, DC
000dICU, dIC DVID_ CSCS D I!DCSS
WHICH are UJDU_DI on directly Uy eaI,
md d__IVd!CU Uy WDIIy DU d CCID_
oI IDSCCUII!y 1DI SDDC 1DCIICDS !DC
_I0d!CS! DXIC!ICS S!CDDCU IDD !DC CDU
. WdI. \UI D!IDD, WDCU d d!C~I!ICS
civiI UCCDSC QDQDC!, IS i _I!u
5!IU__C DI D!IDD SUIVIV DU !DC
[I0SCIV!IDD D ICCUDD m the WDIO.
PU D CDUISC !DCIC WS !DC CDDS!D!
UIC! D DUCCI UCS!IUC!IDD WDICD C!
[0D[C, in the words of one mid-fifties
0U5CIVCI, ID d S!!C D SUSQCDSIDD,
WdI!!D_ !D SCC WDC!DCI !DC DDU IS _Du_

!0 fall DI DD!.

DI D!DCI QCD[C, !DC S[CCU D SD

'. CId U CCDDDDIC CDD_C _CDCId!CU
uD0CI!dID!ICS and CSl UDUU!S DD DU
L0J!I!UUCS. DC DCW QIDSQCII!y DU
G0D_u_ ICS!yCS, WDIC D!CIIy UCD~
0I!D_ Dmy, CUSCU IDSCCUII!ICS. JIUI~
!I0Dd C!DDIC DCI_DUDIDDDUS WCIC UICdK~
ID_ UDWD S DCWy [IDSQCIDUS [CDQC
0U !D SUUUIUId. XC! !DIS VCIy DDUIII!y
LICd!CU IDD!CSSDCSS. wDy [CD[C S!u~
[y UISCDVCICU !D! UUDUDCC WS DD!
.0DDU_D. I Dy CdSC 1DCIICDS UCCdDC
gUI!C SC-CII!ICd DU DUC UCS! SCCIS D
U0D5 !CID_ !DCD D !DCII SDDI!CDuD_S.

--
NO Miller and Nowak/311
I !DIS I_D!, SDDC D !DC DDS! Iu[DI~
!D! SDCId DU CU!UI [DCDDDCDd D
!DC I!ICS dIC DDIC UDUCIS!dDUUC. J!C
DVCIWDCDu_ CDQDSIS DD !DC dDIy
_VC [CDQC SCDSC D [0C DU QCI
SDD IUCD!I!y. J!C DSSIVC IC!UD !D ICI-
_IDD provided IDUIVIUUdS WI!D d SCDSC
D SCCUII!y, I! ICSSUICU !DCD !Dd! !DC
!IUI!IDD DOI VCII!ICS WCIC S!I VdIU.
OUS!IDCU DU SUCCCSSU d!!dCKS d_IDS!
QID_ICSSIVC CUUC!IDD WCIC DD!DCITdD
ICS !!IDD D !DC SCI0D DI !IUI!IDD, dU
SDU!C VUCS. OD !DD WS !DC ID!CCC!U
CDQDSIS DD CDDSCDSUS. IS!DIIDS, SDCI~
DD_IS!, and D!DCI SDCI SCICD!IS!S QyCU
UDWD CDDIC! DU IDS!CU S!ICSSCU !DC
DdIDDDIDUS DU CDUUI!D_ D!UIC D
American democratic VdUCS. DdCKS and
other nonwhites, who UIU DD! SDdIC
CQUdy ID CIICS UDUD!y, WCIC S-
SUICU Uy !DC WDI!C DCUI !D! !DCy DCVCI
DdU it SD _DDU. LCDCIy SQCdKD_, DCI~
!DCI ICI DDI CCDDDDIC CSSCS WCIC ICC~
D_DIZCU. LII!ICS D !DIS CCCUI!CU CDDSCD-
SUS, WDC!DCI IDD II_D! DI C!!, !CDUCU !D
UC !IC!CU S QSyCDDD_IC UCVID!S SU~
CIID_ IDD SUCD CICDC IS dS S!!US a
IC!y DI U!DDII!dIIdD [CISDDdI!y DD
CDDDIHIS!S dDU ICUCS WCIC SUUjCC! !D
DISD CDDDIDIS! QICSSUICS. !D WDDUCI
tDCD !D! UIQI!ISdD UDI!y DUIISDCU.
D!D DDI [DI!IC [dI!ICS CUD_ !CDd
CIDUSy !D !DC SdDC CCD!CI, Dd!D!d!DD_
!DC S!!US QUD WDIC DDU!DID_ [IDV!DCId
1ID!CS!D! Q!I!UUCS DU QICQdIID_ DI
FID_CUUDD ....
If DDC WCIC d!!CDQ!ID_ d QICCISC
[CIIDUI2!IDD, !DC I!!ICS CDUU WC UC
UIVIUCU ID!D !DICC QI!S. 1948-53, 1954-
57, 1958-60. JCSC !DICC [CIIDUS D!_D!
!DCD UC UCCU JC F_C D CI, J!C
LI D LDDSCIV!IVC LDDSCDSUS, U
JC !uC D d!IDDd VCSSCSSDCD!.

, 1
I'
r' ': '

;:
.


J1211J. YL11 ) JVS P1ILPb "1P11 LPb
Tte Age of tdI' TI1e post-World War
era really begins around 1948. By then
the nation had essentially adjusted to
a peacetime economy; depression had
not recurred and people were coming
to believe in the possibility of perpet
ual prosperity. At the same time, the
cold war had become a debilitating re
ality. A chronology of terror began un
folding. In 1948 a communist coup was
successful in Czechoslovakia and the So
viets blockaded wester access to Berlin.
TI1at same year i the United States, tal
of treason and communist infiltration be
came commonplace, especially after a for
mer New Deal State Department official,
Alger Hiss, was accused by Whittaker
Chambers of having passed secrets to the
Russians. T1e following year, 1949, the
Soviets exploded their first atomic bomb
ad Mao Tse-tnng's communist forces
were victorious i China. Early i 1950
President Harry S. Truman an onnced
plans to begi development of a hydro
gen bomb (it was perfected by 1952); Sen
ator Joseph McCarthy added the loudest
voice to the already sizable outcry of anti
communist witch htmters. Nieteen fifty
also saw the conviction of Alger Hiss for
petjury, the arrest and trial of Ethel and
Julius Rosenberg as atomic spies (they
were executed H 1953), the outbreak of
the Korean War, and Senator Estes Ke
fauver's televised criminal investigations
that dramatically revealed the extent ad
power of organized crime.
Such events shocked and frightened
people, ad the last years of Truman's
presidency proved trying time-a pe
1tUU of suspicions, accusations, loyalty
oaths, loathings, extreme chauvinistic.
Americanism. Republicans, attempting
ID regain power, were not averse to
charging the Democrats with being "soft
on communism,"'' though in reality both.
(
parties were excessively
1954; The Geneva summit conference
Tensions raised by Korean fighting,
the Soviets i 1955; the lack of
posed communist infiltration, spy
new spy sensations after 1950; contiued
loyalty investigations, inflation,
.
, and, above all, the election of
and the bomb reached near hysteric
er to the presidency.
portions in the early fifties. Dissent

. When Ike was first elected i 1952,
suppressed, conformity demanded.

.
one Pennsylvania housewife remarked:
the exception of a few legitimate
"It's like America has come home." Ad
onage cases, none of which really
; :so it seemed to millions. While politics
gered national security, most victims o
f the

.
tr
a
ditionally means conflict, Ike appeared
dnl-IcJ mdnd Ucrc guilty of llllc mo1 |/N
.
0 people as above politics. He was
holding unpopular opinions. Not only the
_
te heroic general come to unite the
national goverent, but thousands
of..

n
at
i
on
i peace and prosperity as he had
local commw1ities as well felt obliged to
.
defended it earlier i war. Democratic
search out and destroy suspected subver-

presidents Roosevelt and Truman had for
sive views. Teachers, goverent work-
years emphasized a politics of class
ers, entertainers, and many others were
_
strie and crisis. With Eisenower came
dismissed. Textbooks were censored ad
... . te appearance at least of a politics of
libraries closed.
uity and classlessness. His boyish gri
Yet such fear and repression, plus pros-

_ ad downome homely face, his simple
perity, also made Americans seem `ted

l
,

_i_pg platitudes about home, mother,

under anational faith.Seeingthe worldin
^
ad heaven, his circumlocutions when
dualistic terms of good versus evil,
.
d
ifficult issues came up, all these things
ple celebrated the Urtited States as the:
endeared him to millions and made him
bastion of freedom, democracy, and "peo-.
| u symbol, not of party, but of national
pie's capitalism." Intellectuals defended
consensus. Americans, tired of constant
America and searched for enduring
cises and the hysteria of the age of
sensual values of the country's past and .
fear, found in Ike a symbol of hope and
present. A noncritical conservative cori-

confidence.
sensus emerged offering hope and re-
And so, by the mid-fifties there came a
assurance durig this age of fear. Te
brief happy moment-the quintessential
widespread emphasis on religion and the
ffties-prosperous, stable! bland, reli-
family gave further solace. Te combined.
gious, moral, patriotic, conservative, do-
anxiety and hope of this period is well
mestic, buttoned-down. Huge tail-fined
illustrated in the title of a 1950 song
cars sold u record numbers, Tlte Power
"Jesus Is God's Atomic Bomb."
of Positive Thinking and Tlte Man in tlre
Tire Era of Conservat
i
ve Consensus:
conservative consensus and celebration
of America continued 1FIO IDC miU-tI|es,
.
and fortunately for national nerves the.
fears and anxieties began to ebb. Several
.
factors contributed to this: the death
Stali. and the end of the Korean War L
1953; the downfall of Senator McCarth
y

Gray Flannel Suit sat atop the best-seller
lists, and the "Spirit of Geneva" seemed
.
to diffuse itself over the globe. Domesti
.
'cally no problem appeared more press
ig than the specter of juvenile delin-
. quency, though u reality young people
overwhelmingly accepted the values of
teir elders and dedicated themselves to
te bourgeois goals of security sociabil-
"::.:)
i'
L Miller uu . . aK l1
it:y, domesticity. Tey went steady, mar
r.ied young, had lots of children, lived the
conforming life of "togetheress."
Crises still existed. Poverty, racism,
sexism, and militarism all threatened
Aerica. But Eisenhower and most
citizens tried to ignore such ills. The
sting seemed gone from the times, and
a cheerful nation overwhelmingly re
elected Eisenhower i 1956. Just before
that election, David Riesman and Stewart
Alsop visited a new suburb south
d Chicago to poll voters. They found
people vague about politics but l ikig
Ike. "Most of the people we spoke to were
young housewives, often interrupted
DA their midday television program .... "
111ey were educated but complacent.
"As one looked over that flat Illinois
prairie at all the signs of prosperity,"
generalized Riesman, "it was not hard
to see why these people were so blad
politically and responded to the same
qualities in Ike . ... Tese people were not
self-made men who remembered their
struggles agaist hardship but, rather, a
society-made generation who could not
believe society would let them down .... "
These were the model fifties figures
-suburbaized, bureucratized, smug,
secure.
Tlte Time of National Reassessment: Eisen
hower's second term quicky revealed
how precarious the mid-fifties plateau
of repose actually was. Even before that
new term began, America's foreign rela
tions suffered major setbacks. Just prior
to the 1956 elections, fighting broke out
in Egypt and Hungar. U late October,
Anglo-French-Israeli forces ivaded the
Suez region of Egypt in an attempt to
regain the canal which Egyptian leader
Gamal Abdel Nasser earlier had nation
alized. Third World anticolonial resent-
/\
|
'

'

,'

`

314/13. WERE 1 HE 1950s AMERICA'S "HAPPY DAYS"?
DCD! HU !DIC!CDCU OOVIC! ID!CIVCD!IOD
CODVIHCCU !DC LISCHHOWCI UDIDIS!I
!IOD !D! !DC DVSIOD DUS! DC ended.
Aerica [ICSSUICU DII!u, IDCC, 3DU
SIC !O WIU1UIW. Cy UIU SO. 1OW-
CVCI, !DCSC D!IODS DUDI!I!IOD CDDI!~
!CICU them toward !DC 1DI!CU O!!CS.
YCS!CD DDI!y SCCDCU SCI1OUS!y WCK~
CDCU. During !DCSC SDC !CDSC UyS of
late October DU early NovCmDCI 1956,
!DC OOVIC! 1HJOD, taking advantage of
!DC UISSCD! DOD_ !DC YCS!CD [OWCIS,
harshly CIUSDCU an anticomunist up
IISID_ 1H Hungary that had DIOKCD out
OD!y WCCK DC\OIC !DC OUCZ WI. OI
few weeks the WOI!U DOVCICU on !DC
brik of nuclear war. 1DU while DO!D
C!ISCS WCIC OVCI ! about !DC SDC !IDC S
LISCDDOWCI`S OVCDDCI re-election, they
greatly intensifed 1D!CD!IOD! !CDSIODS.
OUCZ DU 1UH_I C!CI!y ICVC!CU !DC
1955 \CDCV SUDD1I! !O DC OD!y !CD[O
IIy thaw i !DC CO!U WI.
CSS !DH yCI !!CI, !DC UODCS!IC
traquillity O\ !DC DIU-\I!ICS WS !SO
disrupted. I OCptCDDeI 1957, American
!CISD WS SDOCKID_!y DDVCI!CU WDCD
!DC school-integration issue reached crisis
proportions i Little Rock. Eisenower,
who was not SyD[!DC!IC to the civil
rights movement, reluctatly was forced
to send troops into that city to insure
compliance with the Supreme Court's
1954 UCSC_IC_!IOD UCCISIOD. DU! !DC U_!y
SCCDCS in \IOD! O\ Central 1I_D School !IU
DIC OI 1DCIICDS HU !DC WOI!U !DIS
D!IODS UCC[SC!CU ICI! !CDSIODS.
DCD DOD!D !!CI ID LC!ODCI 1957, !DC
OOVIC!S !UDCDCU O[U!uIK I, !DC WOI!US
1IIS! CI!D-OIDI!JD_ S!C!!I!C. 1DCIICDS
WCIC [IOOUuUy SDOCKCU. !IOD SC!-
COD!IUCDCC SCCDCU SD!!CICU i !DC !I_D!
O\ U1S UCDODS!I!CU OOVIC! SU[CIIOII!y
i S[CC SCCDCC. \!S \OI CX[HUCU
IDS ICC CCC!CI!CU. 1DCIICD afflu-
CDCC, ODCC !DC D!IODS [IIUC, DOW
wIdCS[ICU CDC!IH_ ID SCDOO!S DU O
D!DCU \OI CD\CCD!IH_ !DC [O[U!CC. I0
go\[ O\ CW `OIK CO[S WOIKID_ OI
_ICSSIVC CUUC!IOD, WDICD DU DCCD
1

I_!Iy IID_.
.
!DC UCCDSIVC !DIOU_DOU! !DC UCCq_:
y y 1960, WDCD !DC OOVIC!S D-
WS QUICK!y UCD!ISDCU S [CO[!C de
B0

HCCU !D! IDCIS \Iy OWCIS DU

DdDUCU IH!C!CC!U! UISCI[!IDC WI!D m0N
166D SDO! UOWD Iu U-2 S[y [!DC
CD[DSIS on science, matDCDatICs, ad.
.
v0I USSI1 !CIII!OIy, !DC 1DCIIC\
!D_U_C.
.
I0[CDSI!y OI CII!IC! SC!!CV!U!IOD DU
Sputnik C!CIy S!IUCK the DjOI
10
'
ODC ODSCSSive. A [ICSIUCD!I! \OD
against mid-fifties tranquillity. But O!l
HSSIOD OD !IOD! \O!S, WDICD LISCD-
developments i the last three years
0WCI DU CS!D!ISDCU !CI O[UU1IK,
O LISCDDOWCI`S [ICSIUCDCy UUCU to
[I0UUCCU a [OnUeIOUs IC[OI!, Goals for
American doubts and increased the
Americans. C OCKC!C!!CI DIO!DCIS UDU
tional penchant for soUl-serCDi_. At .
issued their own version, Prospect for
DOU! !DC SDC tie S !DC OOVIC!
America. Lie, Look, !De CW `OIK Times
SUCCCSSCS, the 1DCIICD CCODODy 18`
d O!DCI DSS-CIICU!!IOD [UD!IC!IODS
gan !O slump. Dy the spring O 19
58, a.
d!UICU I!IC!CS DU WDO!C ISSUCS UIS
DdjOI ICCCSSIOD CXIS!CU, DDCDplOy6t
OSSID_ D!IOD! [UI[OSC DU !DC U!UIC
had C!IDDCU !O 7.7 per cent of tD
@ I0IC O 1DCIIC. CUID_ SOCI! DU [O!I!
!! !DOI OICC, !DC DI_DCS! I!C
iLdl WII!CIS DC_H !UO_ out DOOKS WI!D
1941. t SDC yCI COD_ICSSIOD! C0
g
!I

!CS
li
ke American the Vincible DU What
DI!!CCS UISC!OSCU .COD!!IC!OID!CICS! vi

Ivan Knows and Johnn

y
Does1t
'
t.
O!!IODS Dy presidential [[OIH!CCS ad
Muc O!DCD!IOD! UCD!C !OCUSCU OD
CDI_CS O IH\!UCDCC-[CUU!ID_ Dy YI0
0 SS!ISC!IOD WI!D !DC QU!I!y O\ 1DCI-
ICSIUCD!1IXODS OO1CI CD[I_Hm
ica !I!C. \OD!OIDI!y U D!CIIISD,
ager. Even Ike's closest, most trusted ad
- 'II!ICS IUCU, DU UU!!CU 1DCIICDS ID!O
influential adviser, Sherman Adams,
Ul` '-

`~'`

" '
Om[!CCD! VCI_CDCSS. LUI _O! Dg
UISDSSCU for taking DIIDC5. AUams it `
18COmC life O DIDC S!O\D, COD|-
was revealed, had accepted expensive
[I DCU Time CUI!OI ODS \IIHI!D ID
gifts fIOm DCDIU \O!UIDC, a wCalt
y :
1959."We are i dager of becomig a vi-
businessman with cases pending be0Ie
.
1I!ID_ DU DCUIOCIC [CO[!C. OOKID_
the goverent. On tour in Latin Aer-
at S0mC O !DC IDS!I!U!IODS we DOUIISD DU
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POSTSCRIPT
Were the 1950s America's "Happy Days"?
T1e period after World War II was one of both affluence and anxiety for
most Americans. Dubofsky and Teoharis emphasize the affluent side. The
American economy not only brought prosperity to its increasing white-collar
and stable blue-collar workers at home; it also revived the economies of the
Westem European nations and noncommunist Asian countries. The increased
wealth of the Aerican worker in the 1950s brought about a consumption
craze. Installment buying for automobiles and appliances and single-family
homes purchased with long-term mortgages, financed in many cases at low
interest rates by the goverent on behalf of the veterans, were the order of
the day.
TI1ere were cracks in the economy, to be sure. Dubofsky and Theoharis
point out that most nonwhites, especially blacks and Hispanics, did not share
in the general prosperity. Some of "the old standbys of industrial America
railroads, coal mining, textiles, and shoe manufacturing-continued a decline
that had begun in the 1920s." Labor union membership in general dropped,
and individual farms fell into the hands of agribusinesses. Finally, many poor
people, especially those with incomes under $4,000 per year, were spending
more than they eamed.

l'vliller and Nowak focus on the negative side mentioned in passing by
Dubofsky and Theoharis. TI1ey point out that in a society "that prizes youth
over age," there is a tendency on the part of the older generation to re
create through television, movies, and books a nostalgic past that never really
existed. Americans, say Miller and Nowak, lost their motives and became
anxious as they moved to their "little boxes" in the suburbs. They became
overweight, were obsessed with their status, and were afraid of communists.
who might overthrow the American govemment.

Both readings can be criticized for giving an unbalanced assessment of the

1950s. Dubofsky mentions the cracks i the afluent society. Blacks would
push their demands for school desegregation, which the Supreme Court
ordered in the Brown v. Board of Education of Topek, Kansas decisions of 1954
and 1955, and demonstrate successfully for political and legal equality in the
1960s.
TI1ere is an enormous bibliography on the 1950s. A recent sympathetic
overview is Michael W. Schuyler "The 1950s; A Retrospective View," Nebrask
History (Spring 1996), which summarizes the major social and economic cur
rents of the 1950s. Also supportive of the absence of extremes is Stephen J.
Whitfield's "Te 1950s; The Era of No Hard Feelings," South Atlantic Quar
terly (Summer 1975). Alan Ehrenhalt's "Leamig from the Fifties," Wilson
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316
Quarterly (Summer 1995) is a brilliant case study of Chicago, Illinois, that
points out the high price some people in the 1950s paid to enjoy the good
life. The starting point for the critical cultural studies of television, film, and
literature is Guile McGregor, "Domestic Blitz; A Revisionist History of the
Fifties," American Studies (Spring 1993).
T1ere are a number of excellent monographs on the 1950s. Eric F Gold
ma, T1e Cntcial Decade at1d After: America, 1945-1960 (Random House, 1960)
remains a great read' d

pushes the view that Americans had developed "a
broad concem about the public issues of the day."
In a class by themselves are Paul A Carter's Another Part of tlze Fifties
(Columbia University Press, 1983) and jouralist David Halberstam's The
Fities (Willard Books, 1993), a book that is eminently readable i its portraits
of 1950s heroes like Charles Van Doren, Marlon Brando, and Bill Russell.
Some of the same material is covered from a more conservative viewpoint by
Jeffrey Hart, ed., When the Going Was Goocl: Life in the Fifties (Crown Publishers,
1982).
President Dwight D. Eisenhower dominated the politics of the 1950s in the
same way that one of his predecessors, Franklin D. Roosevelt, did the depres
sion decade and World War II. In the 1950s the public loved Eisenhower, but
the intellectuals did not. Early assessments of him as an ineffectual, old man
who let his staff make the decisions can be found i Dean Alberton's collec
tion of articles Eisenhower as President (Hill & Wang, 1963). Revisionists who
have researched through the private papers and diaries of the president and
his staff have concluded that he really was in charge .. See Fred I. Greenstein,
Tize Hidden Hand Presidency Qohns Hopkins University Press, 1994). Past revi
sionist arguments that he was in charge but fumbled anyway are assessed i
the chapter entitled "Vicissitudes of Presidential Reputations: Eisenhower,"
in Arthur M. Schlesinger, Jr., The Cycles of American Histor (Houghton Mifflin,
1986). A major biography that is sympathetic to its subject remains Stephen
A Ambrose's Eisenhower: Soldier and President (Simon & Schuster, 1990).
Other worthy books on a variety of 1950s topics include TI1omas C. Reeves,
ed., McCarthyism, 3rd ed. (Robert E. Krieger, 1989); Harold G. Vatter, The U.S.
Economy in the 1950s (University of Chicago Press, 1985); James Gilbert, A
Cycle of Outrage: America's Reaction to the Juvenile Age (Oxford University
Press, 1986); and Karal A Marling, isAs Seen on TV: The Visual Culture of
. Everday Lie in the 1950s (Harvard University Press, 1994).
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