Anarchy 51/The catchers in the Right
The catchers
in the Right
One of the basic tenets of anarchist evangelism (if they aren’t mutually exclusive terms) is, common with that of the church or any other body, to catch ’em young. In the anarchist case this applies more in practice than in theory, simply because anarchist characteristics—open-minded questioning, dislike of authority, a capacity for honesty—are essentially youthful qualities. Not all the young possess them, alack, but they tend to be lost rather than acquired with age. They are a bit more common, though, than a discouraged anarchist might think; it’s just that those who possess them have a healthy suspicion of any organisation and are, logically, unlikely to form themselves into that notorious paradox, an anarchist organisation.
There are, however, other hunters out. In 1960, three incognito social workers were sent to three different towns “to make contact with unattached young people, to discover their interests and leisure-time activities and, following this, to help in whatever way seems appropriate”. The project was organised by the National Association of Youth Clubs, and the unattached is an account of these people (“unattached”, as might be expected in a NAYC project, meant unattached to any official organisation; nobody seems to have expected that the unattached might be perfectly happily attached to each other), and how the workers fared in “Seagate”, “Northtown” and “Midford”, finding, and establishing relationships with, the unattached in, mainly, coffee bars (an apt subtitle might have been: “With Net and Notebook Through Darkest Gaggia-land”). The principal value and delight of the book is that it is an amazingly real piece of evidence (about the unattached and the workers); almost as good as a novel—if not better in parts; the bald sketching-in of characters which nevertheless reveals very clearly the real people behind them, and the in-spite-of-itself moving description—written in best casebook manner, not unsympathetic but asympathetic—of the sad and inevitable disintegration of the Seagate group.