. . . the General Strike, when on 1st May an overwhelming majority (3,653, 526 for and 49,911 against) of the Trade Union Congress (TUC) General Council voted to support nationwide industrial action in support of the coal miners who almost for a year had been resisting attempts by mine owners to impose wage cuts and longer working hours.
Unlike the 50th anniversary, the occasion has largely been ignored by the mainstream media. There are no drama documentaries of the sort that commemorated the 30th and 40th anniversaries of the 1984-85 coal strike which arguably had as consequential an impact on workers’ rights and trade union activism as the 1926 event. There were no academic discussions or historical features on television or radio reaching back into the archives to recall the testimonies of strikers or other actors such as the volunteers who signed up to run daily services such as trains and trams and distribution of essential supplies as there were in 1976 – possibly the highest watermark of trade union influence on decision making and membership.
It is certainly remembered in locally organised activities such as the Colchester Trades Council commemorative walk that I took part in (at least until my dodgy osteoarthritic knees forced me to pull out!) as part of the Jane’s Walks programme that occurs annually in early May; named after the urban geographer and activist Jane Jacobs. The TUC General Council organised events up and down the country to mark the General Strike and the liberal left’s newspaper of record, The Observer/Guardian, did carry a review of four recently published books on it, which I will reference throughout this article. It is featured in exhibitions and events in libraries and museums. But it is a largely forgotten event, from a vanished era which unlike other events from over a century ago such as World War One and the Easter Rising with a mini cottage industry of literary and broadcasting output that they have generated, which has largely disappeared from public consciousness. It is the intention of this article to resurrect the memory of “The revolution that never was.”[1]
Background to the General Strike
The General Strike lasted from the 3rd to 12th May. Approximately 1.7 to 3 million workers across heavy industry, printing and other key sectors effectively brought Britain to a standstill. The TUC ended the strike after nine days in the realisation that that it could not sustain disruption to essential services and the miners themselves remained on strike for nearly eight months.
The principal economic driver of the process that led to the General Strike was the fall in the international price of coal in the aftermath of the First World War. The Dawes Plan in 1924 allowed Germany to re-enter the international coal market by exporting “free coal” to France and Italy as part of the reparations imposed by the Treaty of Versailles for the war. This extra supply reduced the price of coal. Worse was to follow when Winston Churchill as Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1925 reintroduced the gold standard against at its pre-first world war parity of $4.86 to the pound. It would not be the last time in the twentieth century that decisions taken by Chancellors on currency and exchange rate mechanisms would have momentous and deleterious effects on the UK economy. In this sterling became too strong for effective exporting and so there was a further fall in the price of coal. Coal production had fallen to just 199 tons by 1920-24 and total coal output had been in decline since 1914.[2]
The response of the mine owners attempted to force down wages by up to 25% and impose longer hours. Miners resisted and demanded: “not a penny off the pay, not a minute off the day.”
To get some understanding of the issues involved and virtually existential nature of the conflict in the coal mining industry and the raw emotions it generated, it is necessary to briefly explain the structure of the coal mining industry in the early part of the twentieth industry. It was a particularly badly run sector of the British economy, with around 1,400 separate firms owning nearly 2,500 collieries. Many of these were small enterprises, with 95% of the coal produced by a mere 600 collieries.[3] The polarised mindsets of both pit owners and miners’ union leaders were legendary. One member of the Sankey Commission into the state of British coalmining in 1919 remarked:
Background to the General Strike
The General Strike lasted from the 3rd to 12th May. Approximately 1.7 to 3 million workers across heavy industry, printing and other key sectors effectively brought Britain to a standstill. The TUC ended the strike after nine days in the realisation that that it could not sustain disruption to essential services and the miners themselves remained on strike for nearly eight months.
The principal economic driver of the process that led to the General Strike was the fall in the international price of coal in the aftermath of the First World War. The Dawes Plan in 1924 allowed Germany to re-enter the international coal market by exporting “free coal” to France and Italy as part of the reparations imposed by the Treaty of Versailles for the war. This extra supply reduced the price of coal. Worse was to follow when Winston Churchill as Chancellor of the Exchequer in 1925 reintroduced the gold standard against at its pre-first world war parity of $4.86 to the pound. It would not be the last time in the twentieth century that decisions taken by Chancellors on currency and exchange rate mechanisms would have momentous and deleterious effects on the UK economy. In this sterling became too strong for effective exporting and so there was a further fall in the price of coal. Coal production had fallen to just 199 tons by 1920-24 and total coal output had been in decline since 1914.[2]
The response of the mine owners attempted to force down wages by up to 25% and impose longer hours. Miners resisted and demanded: “not a penny off the pay, not a minute off the day.”
To get some understanding of the issues involved and virtually existential nature of the conflict in the coal mining industry and the raw emotions it generated, it is necessary to briefly explain the structure of the coal mining industry in the early part of the twentieth industry. It was a particularly badly run sector of the British economy, with around 1,400 separate firms owning nearly 2,500 collieries. Many of these were small enterprises, with 95% of the coal produced by a mere 600 collieries.[3] The polarised mindsets of both pit owners and miners’ union leaders were legendary. One member of the Sankey Commission into the state of British coalmining in 1919 remarked:
It would be possible to state with certainty that the union leaders were the stupidest people we had ever met, if we had not on occasions to meet the owners.
One Tory cabinet minister said of the coal owners: “They are about the stupidest and most narrow-minded employers I know.”
The working conditions of the miners need to be described in the starkest of terms which Jonathan Scheer does in his book Nine Days in May: The General Strike of 1926. Miners were paid for their shifts of seven hours at the coalface. But it took them sometimes a couple of hours of crawling on hands and knees to get to and from the seams. Proposing to extend the working day by an hour as the mine owners did was a matter of life and death in the subterranean depths of the coalfield. For it was at the tired end of the working day – the “murder hour” – that most industrial accidents occurred. On average, during the first half of the 1920s, three miners were killed in accidents daily across Britain. In addition there were on average about 500 injuries, at least ten of which were serious. Herbert Smith, the president of the Miners’ Federation of Great Britain, had lost his father in a mining accident and the union’s secretary, Arthur Cook, had seen a fellow worker killed beside him in a rockfall during his very first day underground.[4] Such tales of death and disability including memories of mass casualty pit explosions have left powerful emotional legacies such as miners as supreme pantheons of labour struggles and wider reverence and awe for what these authentic heroes of class struggle experienced in their everyday working lives.**
After the owners had made their wage cut and work extension proposals, Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin intervened with a compromise: a nine-month government subsidy to the coal industry to maintain the status quo. On “Red Friday” 31st July 1925, the owners backed down and the government commissioned the Samuel Commission to investigate the industry. However, the government began to make arrangements for a general strike. They set up OMS (Organisation for the Maintenance of Supplies); stockpiled food and fuel and trained university students and other young people from upper middle-class families to drive trains and operate essential services. In March/April 1926; the Samuel Commission report called for wage cuts of 13.5% and the withdrawal of the subsidy. The miners refused to accept these recommendations and after the failure of negotiations initiated by the TUC, the general strike commenced at a minute before midnight on Tuesday 2nd May 1926.
Course of the Strike
The General Strike went ahead despite the concerns of Labour Party leaders who were troubled by revolutionary or anarcho-syndicalist elements within the union movement and of the damage they could do to the party’s new reputation as a party of government.[5] However the point of return was passed because of an eleventh-hour decision by printers of the Daily Mail newspaper to refuse to print an editorial titled For King and Country, objecting to the following passage; “A general strike is not an industrial dispute. It is a revolutionary move which can only succeed by destroying the government and subverting the rights and liberties of the people.” Fearing that an all-out general strike would bring revolutionary elements to the fore, the TUC limited the participants to railwaymen, transport workers, printers, dockers, ironworkers and steelworkers as they were regarded as pivotal in the dispute.
The printers’ strike gave Stanley Baldwin’s government a pretext to break off negotiations to break off negotiations – freedom of the press. Churchill then took control of the state’s media operation by publishing The British Gazette as a government newspaper for the strike’s duration. The government had no need to put any restriction on the new medium of broadcasting as John Reith, the managing director of the then British Broadcasting Company (BBC), self- censored to such an extent in order to avoid any threats of state takeover that, for example, he prevented Randall Davidson, the Archbishop of Canterbury, from issuing a conciliatory message on the BBC.[6]
In an ecclesiastic contrast, in a rare political radio broadcast, Archbishop Francis Cardinal Bourne, the leading Catholic prelate in Britain, condemned the strike, knowing that many strikers were Catholic. He advised his flock that “It is a direct challenge to lawfully constituted authority … All are bound to uphold and assist the Government which is the lawfully constituted authority of the country and represents the authority of God himself.”[7]
Rather than a syndicalist strategy influenced by the revolutionary ideology popular in France and Spain at the turn of the century and which influenced the thinking of then leader of the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) Arthur Scargill during the epic miners’ strike of 1984-85, the General Strike was in the words of Jonathan Scheer “an enormous sympathy strike”. The TUC General Council sought merely to force the government to re-open negotiations rather than overthrow the state. As has already been pointed out, the leadership did not mobilise the full complement of the unionised workforce and maintained some provision for essential needs. The central organisation of the strike included a Food and Essential Services Committee, while its Building Committee permitted construction work to continue for ordinary housing and for hospitals.[8]
By contrast, the government in its objective of the defeat what it regarded a clear and defiant anti-constitutional challenge to its authority. In a manner which prefigured the Thatcher’s years preparations for the 1984 coal showdown, it made comprehensive contingency plans well in advance of the collapse of the talk. Both Baldwin and Thatcher governments posed the question that Ted Heath asked of the UK electorate in February 1974 when the three-day working day and power cuts were imposed in response to the miners’ strike: “Who governs?” and were determined to answer, in the affirmative, the government of the day. It has also been pointed out earlier, that Baldwin’s administration stockpiled food and fuel and mobilised its volunteer strike breaking battalions just as the Thatcher government had stockpiled sufficient supplies of imported coal.[9]
Much saccharine accounts of the General Strike claim that it was a largely peaceful affair and tell comforting stories about football matches between strikers and police in Plymouth and sentimental stories of young persons realising ambitions to drive trains. However the full panoply of the state was deployed to ensure that the country ran as normal as possible. On 4th May under the Emergency Powers Act; troops were employed against workers taking united action for fair pay. Battleships with guns were aimed at docks in the major port cities of Hull, Bristol, and Liverpool. There were also more than a few incidences of violence and sabotage. For example, a group of miners in Cramlington in Northumberland removed rails from the track of a train ahead of a train, which caused its engine to overturn and the derailment of five coaches with mercifully only one person injured.
One strike participant and dock worker from East London, Harry Wilson, recalls the increasing violence with which the police handled the strikers:
In Britain’s Revolutionary Summer, Edd Mustill rightly takes apart the myth that the strike was a sedate affair in which nobody died. Untrained volunteers were ill-equipped to handle buses and trains with several deaths in train collisions and bus crashes that were attributable to their incompetence. On other occasions, their efforts led to farcical outcomes such as the 37 hours it took for a mishandled steam train to get from King’s Cross station in London to Edinburgh[11]
In the words of Harry Wilson:
Such hopes were to be crucially dashed by the decision by the TUC on 12th May to call off the strike with no resolution if the government offered a guarantee that there would be no victimisation of strikers. The government stated that it had “no power to compel employers to take back every man who had been on strike.” The miners maintained their resistance until they were virtually starved back to work at the end of November 1926 for longer hours and lower wages. The miners were to taste more bitter fruit with many denied their jobs leading to the choice of the workhouse or emigration with Canada a common destination. The divisions that emerged within the ranks of the miners with the decision of the “Spencer” unions in Nottinghamshire to break the strike by an early return to work added another layer of pain and bitterness in mining communities which returned with a vengeance in the 1984-85 strike.
Legacy of the General Strike
The immediate legacy of the General Strike was the 1927 Disputes and Trade Union Act which included the prohibition of sympathy strikes and mass picketing and which led to trade unions having to implement the opt-in political levy to Labour arrangement. But the disappointed expectations of Harry Wilson powers the radical left view of the outcome of the General Strike as a “sellout” the consequences of which we still live with. Callum Cant and Mathew Lee’s book The Future in our Past locates the plight of today’s precariat in the might-have-beens of 1926: we live now in a future that could and perhaps should have been so different. In the same vein, Mustill bemoans the “squandered solidarity” of 1926, the “unfulfilled promise of working-class power” betrayed by a supine leadership. The “will to unity” seen in 1926, he notes, has long since dissipated even among moderate trade union leaders.[13]
As against this recurring meme of betrayal of the working class by the Trade Union and Labour establishments, are the facts that one of the trade union movement’s big beasts of history Ernest Bevin who co-ordinated the General Strike was never persuaded of its utility again. The basic demand of the TUC was the reversal of the wage cuts and longer working hours being forced on the miners and it was on those grounds that it can be termed a failure at least in the short to medium term sweep of history. But in a much wider historical context, the TUC argues that the strike reinforced the importance of a collective voice for workers. It also claims that such workplace rights such as paid holidays, safe workplaces, protections against unfair dismissal, maternity and paternity rights and the national minimum wage are the true legacies of 1926 as these gains were the results of workers organising together and demanding change.[14]
The much-reduced collective bargaining power of labour a century on from the General Strike is rather more the consequence of the defeat of the NUM in 1984-85 (followed by the defeat of the printers in Wapping in 1987) that of 1926. I would argue that that had the NUM strike had the same undoubted democratic mandate that the General Strike; that means there should have been a national ballot of members, then victory would have been much more likely and that Thatcher could have been ousted from power and the attack on employment rights could have been prevented. In a vastly changed world of work, the General Strike still has something to offer in the historical memory of worker solidarity. Can they be applied to the world of the Amazon distribution worker, the social care worker, the call centre operator and all the other casualised sectors of work? Yes, they can.
References
[1] Colin Kidd, The Revolution That Never Was, The Observer New Review Books 3 May 2026 pp.34-35
[2] Wikipedia
[3] Kidd, p.34
[4] Ibid
[5] Martin Pugh (2011)
[6] Kidd, p.35
The working conditions of the miners need to be described in the starkest of terms which Jonathan Scheer does in his book Nine Days in May: The General Strike of 1926. Miners were paid for their shifts of seven hours at the coalface. But it took them sometimes a couple of hours of crawling on hands and knees to get to and from the seams. Proposing to extend the working day by an hour as the mine owners did was a matter of life and death in the subterranean depths of the coalfield. For it was at the tired end of the working day – the “murder hour” – that most industrial accidents occurred. On average, during the first half of the 1920s, three miners were killed in accidents daily across Britain. In addition there were on average about 500 injuries, at least ten of which were serious. Herbert Smith, the president of the Miners’ Federation of Great Britain, had lost his father in a mining accident and the union’s secretary, Arthur Cook, had seen a fellow worker killed beside him in a rockfall during his very first day underground.[4] Such tales of death and disability including memories of mass casualty pit explosions have left powerful emotional legacies such as miners as supreme pantheons of labour struggles and wider reverence and awe for what these authentic heroes of class struggle experienced in their everyday working lives.**
After the owners had made their wage cut and work extension proposals, Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin intervened with a compromise: a nine-month government subsidy to the coal industry to maintain the status quo. On “Red Friday” 31st July 1925, the owners backed down and the government commissioned the Samuel Commission to investigate the industry. However, the government began to make arrangements for a general strike. They set up OMS (Organisation for the Maintenance of Supplies); stockpiled food and fuel and trained university students and other young people from upper middle-class families to drive trains and operate essential services. In March/April 1926; the Samuel Commission report called for wage cuts of 13.5% and the withdrawal of the subsidy. The miners refused to accept these recommendations and after the failure of negotiations initiated by the TUC, the general strike commenced at a minute before midnight on Tuesday 2nd May 1926.
Course of the Strike
The General Strike went ahead despite the concerns of Labour Party leaders who were troubled by revolutionary or anarcho-syndicalist elements within the union movement and of the damage they could do to the party’s new reputation as a party of government.[5] However the point of return was passed because of an eleventh-hour decision by printers of the Daily Mail newspaper to refuse to print an editorial titled For King and Country, objecting to the following passage; “A general strike is not an industrial dispute. It is a revolutionary move which can only succeed by destroying the government and subverting the rights and liberties of the people.” Fearing that an all-out general strike would bring revolutionary elements to the fore, the TUC limited the participants to railwaymen, transport workers, printers, dockers, ironworkers and steelworkers as they were regarded as pivotal in the dispute.
The printers’ strike gave Stanley Baldwin’s government a pretext to break off negotiations to break off negotiations – freedom of the press. Churchill then took control of the state’s media operation by publishing The British Gazette as a government newspaper for the strike’s duration. The government had no need to put any restriction on the new medium of broadcasting as John Reith, the managing director of the then British Broadcasting Company (BBC), self- censored to such an extent in order to avoid any threats of state takeover that, for example, he prevented Randall Davidson, the Archbishop of Canterbury, from issuing a conciliatory message on the BBC.[6]
In an ecclesiastic contrast, in a rare political radio broadcast, Archbishop Francis Cardinal Bourne, the leading Catholic prelate in Britain, condemned the strike, knowing that many strikers were Catholic. He advised his flock that “It is a direct challenge to lawfully constituted authority … All are bound to uphold and assist the Government which is the lawfully constituted authority of the country and represents the authority of God himself.”[7]
Rather than a syndicalist strategy influenced by the revolutionary ideology popular in France and Spain at the turn of the century and which influenced the thinking of then leader of the National Union of Mineworkers (NUM) Arthur Scargill during the epic miners’ strike of 1984-85, the General Strike was in the words of Jonathan Scheer “an enormous sympathy strike”. The TUC General Council sought merely to force the government to re-open negotiations rather than overthrow the state. As has already been pointed out, the leadership did not mobilise the full complement of the unionised workforce and maintained some provision for essential needs. The central organisation of the strike included a Food and Essential Services Committee, while its Building Committee permitted construction work to continue for ordinary housing and for hospitals.[8]
By contrast, the government in its objective of the defeat what it regarded a clear and defiant anti-constitutional challenge to its authority. In a manner which prefigured the Thatcher’s years preparations for the 1984 coal showdown, it made comprehensive contingency plans well in advance of the collapse of the talk. Both Baldwin and Thatcher governments posed the question that Ted Heath asked of the UK electorate in February 1974 when the three-day working day and power cuts were imposed in response to the miners’ strike: “Who governs?” and were determined to answer, in the affirmative, the government of the day. It has also been pointed out earlier, that Baldwin’s administration stockpiled food and fuel and mobilised its volunteer strike breaking battalions just as the Thatcher government had stockpiled sufficient supplies of imported coal.[9]
Much saccharine accounts of the General Strike claim that it was a largely peaceful affair and tell comforting stories about football matches between strikers and police in Plymouth and sentimental stories of young persons realising ambitions to drive trains. However the full panoply of the state was deployed to ensure that the country ran as normal as possible. On 4th May under the Emergency Powers Act; troops were employed against workers taking united action for fair pay. Battleships with guns were aimed at docks in the major port cities of Hull, Bristol, and Liverpool. There were also more than a few incidences of violence and sabotage. For example, a group of miners in Cramlington in Northumberland removed rails from the track of a train ahead of a train, which caused its engine to overturn and the derailment of five coaches with mercifully only one person injured.
One strike participant and dock worker from East London, Harry Wilson, recalls the increasing violence with which the police handled the strikers:
One morning we had word that there were troops in the docks unloading ships and the lorries were coming up the Victoria Dock Road… We got to Barking Road outside Canning Town station. Up come the lorries with barbed wire all-round the lorries’ canopy with troops with guns sitting behind the barbed wire… The people were jeering and boing but that was the extent of it. Then the police started pushing from behind and they kept pushing and pushing and pushing and we were pushed onto the road, and it led to arguments and before we knew it the police were laying about us with their truncheons. There were a few broken arms as a result of the blows we had been subjected to[10]
In Britain’s Revolutionary Summer, Edd Mustill rightly takes apart the myth that the strike was a sedate affair in which nobody died. Untrained volunteers were ill-equipped to handle buses and trains with several deaths in train collisions and bus crashes that were attributable to their incompetence. On other occasions, their efforts led to farcical outcomes such as the 37 hours it took for a mishandled steam train to get from King’s Cross station in London to Edinburgh[11]
In the words of Harry Wilson:
We were never voting to involve ourselves in any physical violence in any shape or form. And the strike itself never needed it. I was being guided in my thinking by the elder men that we were going to win this one because it was a national strike and by the kind of power and authority that they exercised. There was no question that there would be capitulation by the government on this matter.[12]
Such hopes were to be crucially dashed by the decision by the TUC on 12th May to call off the strike with no resolution if the government offered a guarantee that there would be no victimisation of strikers. The government stated that it had “no power to compel employers to take back every man who had been on strike.” The miners maintained their resistance until they were virtually starved back to work at the end of November 1926 for longer hours and lower wages. The miners were to taste more bitter fruit with many denied their jobs leading to the choice of the workhouse or emigration with Canada a common destination. The divisions that emerged within the ranks of the miners with the decision of the “Spencer” unions in Nottinghamshire to break the strike by an early return to work added another layer of pain and bitterness in mining communities which returned with a vengeance in the 1984-85 strike.
Legacy of the General Strike
The immediate legacy of the General Strike was the 1927 Disputes and Trade Union Act which included the prohibition of sympathy strikes and mass picketing and which led to trade unions having to implement the opt-in political levy to Labour arrangement. But the disappointed expectations of Harry Wilson powers the radical left view of the outcome of the General Strike as a “sellout” the consequences of which we still live with. Callum Cant and Mathew Lee’s book The Future in our Past locates the plight of today’s precariat in the might-have-beens of 1926: we live now in a future that could and perhaps should have been so different. In the same vein, Mustill bemoans the “squandered solidarity” of 1926, the “unfulfilled promise of working-class power” betrayed by a supine leadership. The “will to unity” seen in 1926, he notes, has long since dissipated even among moderate trade union leaders.[13]
As against this recurring meme of betrayal of the working class by the Trade Union and Labour establishments, are the facts that one of the trade union movement’s big beasts of history Ernest Bevin who co-ordinated the General Strike was never persuaded of its utility again. The basic demand of the TUC was the reversal of the wage cuts and longer working hours being forced on the miners and it was on those grounds that it can be termed a failure at least in the short to medium term sweep of history. But in a much wider historical context, the TUC argues that the strike reinforced the importance of a collective voice for workers. It also claims that such workplace rights such as paid holidays, safe workplaces, protections against unfair dismissal, maternity and paternity rights and the national minimum wage are the true legacies of 1926 as these gains were the results of workers organising together and demanding change.[14]
The much-reduced collective bargaining power of labour a century on from the General Strike is rather more the consequence of the defeat of the NUM in 1984-85 (followed by the defeat of the printers in Wapping in 1987) that of 1926. I would argue that that had the NUM strike had the same undoubted democratic mandate that the General Strike; that means there should have been a national ballot of members, then victory would have been much more likely and that Thatcher could have been ousted from power and the attack on employment rights could have been prevented. In a vastly changed world of work, the General Strike still has something to offer in the historical memory of worker solidarity. Can they be applied to the world of the Amazon distribution worker, the social care worker, the call centre operator and all the other casualised sectors of work? Yes, they can.
References
[1] Colin Kidd, The Revolution That Never Was, The Observer New Review Books 3 May 2026 pp.34-35
[2] Wikipedia
[3] Kidd, p.34
[4] Ibid
[5] Martin Pugh (2011)
[6] Kidd, p.35
[7] Neil Riddell, (1997), The Catholic Church and the Labour Party, 1918-1931. Twentieth Century British History 8 (2) pp.165-193 at p.172
[8] Kidd, p.34
[9] There is a corrective to this narrative which is often promulgated by supporters of the 1984 coal strike. Richard Vien agrees that the Tories certainly discussed the prospect of a strike from the mid-1970s. However he argues that they did not have a clearly worked out plan or much confidence in their ability to win such a dispute. They were even more reticent after their humiliating retreat for the threat of a miners’ strike in February 1981 (a possible sign of the weakness of the Thatcher government at that time). So he argues that stockpiling coal was initially designed to deter a strike rather than to defeat one. Furthermore Thatcher was not always keen to confront the miners and many of those who designed and executed the strategy were not Thatcherites. Indeed some were civil servants not politicians. Richard Vien, A War of Position. The Thatcher Government’s Preparation for the 1984 Miners’ Strike. The English Historical Review Vol.34. No.566. February 2019 pp.121-150
[10] Harry Wilson Memories of the general strike.
11] Kidd, p.35
[12] Wilson, op cit
[13] Kidd, p.35
[14] TUC Website General Strike 1926: Why It Happened and Why It Still Matters
[12] Wilson, op cit
[13] Kidd, p.35
[14] TUC Website General Strike 1926: Why It Happened and Why It Still Matters
⏩Barry Gilheany is a freelance writer, qualified counsellor and aspirant artist resident in Colchester where he took his PhD at the University of Essex. He is also a lifelong Leeds United supporter.
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