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‘This Bill would legalise licensed betting shops provided these were made as unattractive and uncomfortable as possible.’
‘This Bill would legalise licensed betting shops provided these were made as unattractive and uncomfortable as possible.’ Photograph: Scott Barbour/Getty Images
‘This Bill would legalise licensed betting shops provided these were made as unattractive and uncomfortable as possible.’ Photograph: Scott Barbour/Getty Images

From the Observer archive: this week in 1960

This article is more than 6 years old
An overhaul of our attitude to bookmakers is long overdue

Britain has never been able to decide whether betting is a vice to be repressed or a pastime to be indulged. The resulting muddle infects all our legislation on the subject, including the Government’s proposed Betting and Gaming Bill.

This Bill as it stands would make street betting illegal (as it is now), but would legalise licensed betting shops provided these were made as unattractive and uncomfortable as possible. The idea behind this curious compromise is that, since it is impossible for the police to enforce the existing law, something must be done to legalise off-course betting but nothing should be done to encourage it.

It would surely be more sensible simply to legalise the existing habits of the nation by permitting bookies’ street-runners and agents to operate as they do now, except in places where sub rosa betting offices are already widely used. Local licensing authorities could be left to choose between the two methods, in accordance with local custom and demand.

The old notion that the poor must be protected from wasting their money on the pleasures of the rich is out of date.

The rich have long been able to bet with bookmakers on credit; it seems time to give equal facilities for cash betting to everyone who wants them.

Key quote

Happiness is not made by law. But happiness can be, and often is, stopped by bad law.’

Lord Beveridge

Talking point

The Lily White Boys breaks away from the normal pattern of a British musical. The gentility, the fake high spirits, the tonic-and-dominant tunes, the sub-Gilbert lyrics are a thousand miles behind. There is no reason why this should not be the start of a new theatrical form equipped to sharpen the edge of social comment.

Allan Pryce-Jones reviewing Lindsay Anderson’s The Lily White Boys at the Royal Court

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