Say it in Anglo-Saxon
By Rory Coonan

What did the Anglo-Saxons (700-1066) ever do for us? Great artists, they also shaped the modern state. To them we owe Defnascir (Devon), Sumorsaete (Somerset), Dornsaete (Dorset), Wiltunscir (Wiltshire), Hamptunscir (Hampshire) and other English counties.  The ancient Kingdom of Wessex divided local administration into town and county and the distinction survives to this day. Neither the interruption of the Normans (a mere 300 years), nor the disruptions of the Civil war and two world wars have altered the familiar pattern. Apart from monarchy, the history of public administration has seen nothing like it.

The fundamental idea behind local government has not changed.  In more democratic times, people choose local councillors to make their localities better. (Historically, it helped if you were a property-owning man; women had fewer rights.) Since power went with assets, local taxes or ‘tithes’ were raised, often under duress. Sometimes these led to rich endowments of institutions (including schools and the two universities) by landowners. At the same time, Medieval England also saw the first examples of supported living.

Alms against a sea of troubles

This consisted of local almshouses. They helped the poor, disabled and sometimes people with what we would now recognise as learning disabilities. The counties were not involved. They were preoccupied with keeping on the right side between warring kingdoms. Many alms houses, designed with accommodation for on-site wardens, somehow survived the Reformation and the destruction of the monasteries. They expanded in the 17th century as a newly confident merchant class rose the social scale. Miraculously, some of these charitable foundations exist to this day.

Their survival has not just been about money. It had much more to do with locality, with being rooted in a community that could be expected to show respect in return. (It helped that many alms houses were also distinctive works of architecture. A living example is the Dulwich alms houses in south London.)

Charity begins at home…and can make homes

The earliest forms of supported living embodied the idea that charity, which begins at home, could end up making homes. This parochial notion depended entirely on local initiative. But local governance often led to abuses. Looking after vulnerable people whose survival was at the whim of private patrons was unlikely to survive the development of the modern state.  Industrialisation and migration of workers from the countryside to towns, especially in the north, cried out for new forms of assistance. To be effective, these had to be delivered at scale.

As new needs for treatment, care and support were identified, public money was frankly more dependable. By this means, personal impulse to charitable giving was gradually replaced by public responsibility for investment. Hospitals, including charitable institutions centuries old, were simply nationalised by the 1945 Labour government. Thousands, perhaps millions, of lives have been transformed for the better as a result, especially in healthcare.

Top-down funding has local effects

However, an unintended consequence of ‘top down’ public investment in health and care in the modern era has been to sever the link between services funded by the state and local knowledge of the needs of families and individuals. (For all their faults, charitable alms houses could never be accused of this.). Town and county government re-organisations in the 1970s and 80s divided responsibilities. County councils took on education and the social care of adults. Towns and districts were not to be trusted with everything that could be described as local. (On this it appeared both Labour and Conservative governments agreed.)

The effects of this re-organisation on supported living were not thought through. Nowadays anciently rooted counties are responsible for commissioning services for individuals with autism and/or learning disabilities across significant geographical areas. At the same time, smaller towns (district councils) are supposed to provide money for housing in the form of rents. Therefore, elected town councils who are unable to exercise sway over funds controlled by the counties, are powerless to ensure that their local needs for supported living can in fact be met.

‘Out of County’ or ‘Out of sight’?

Such a separation is not helpful. Surely, local need should come first, assessed by locally accountable and elected people. Funding should flow according to need, with housing and care joined in a single ‘pot’. By contrast, in Germany and France they order things better. There, supported housing and care are designed together and provided together. Yet in a telling phrase, officials in England often describe many people with learning disabilities as living “out of county” (another connotation might well be ‘out of sight’).  They do not generally say they are far from the towns and places they are entitled to call home and to where a more sensible, locally directed public policy would re-locate them.

Our Anglo-Saxon ancestors would first have scratched their heads in wonder at these arrangements, before returning to the intricate task of incising into tiny pieces of ivory the astonishing interlacing of beasts and birds.

Say it in Anglo-Saxon
By Rory Coonan

What did the Anglo-Saxons (700-1066) ever do for us? Great artists, they also shaped the modern state. To them we owe Defnascir (Devon), Sumorsaete (Somerset), Dornsaete (Dorset), Wiltunscir (Wiltshire), Hamptunscir (Hampshire) and other English counties.  The ancient Kingdom of Wessex divided local administration into town and county and the distinction survives to this day. Neither the interruption of the Normans (a mere 300 years), nor the disruptions of the Civil war and two world wars have altered the familiar pattern. Apart from monarchy, the history of public administration has seen nothing like it.

The fundamental idea behind local government has not changed.  In more democratic times, people choose local councillors to make their localities better. (Historically, it helped if you were a property-owning man; women had fewer rights.) Since power went with assets, local taxes or ‘tithes’ were raised, often under duress. Sometimes these led to rich endowments of institutions (including schools and the two universities) by landowners. At the same time, Medieval England also saw the first examples of supported living.

Alms against a sea of troubles

This consisted of local almshouses. They helped the poor, disabled and sometimes people with what we would now recognise as learning disabilities. The counties were not involved. They were preoccupied with keeping on the right side between warring kingdoms. Many alms houses, designed with accommodation for on-site wardens, somehow survived the Reformation and the destruction of the monasteries. They expanded in the 17th century as a newly confident merchant class rose the social scale. Miraculously, some of these charitable foundations exist to this day.

Their survival has not just been about money. It had much more to do with locality, with being rooted in a community that could be expected to show respect in return. (It helped that many alms houses were also distinctive works of architecture. A living example is the Dulwich alms houses in south London.)

Charity begins at home…and can make homes

The earliest forms of supported living embodied the idea that charity, which begins at home, could end up making homes. This parochial notion depended entirely on local initiative. But local governance often led to abuses. Looking after vulnerable people whose survival was at the whim of private patrons was unlikely to survive the development of the modern state.  Industrialisation and migration of workers from the countryside to towns, especially in the north, cried out for new forms of assistance. To be effective, these had to be delivered at scale.

As new needs for treatment, care and support were identified, public money was frankly more dependable. By this means, personal impulse to charitable giving was gradually replaced by public responsibility for investment. Hospitals, including charitable institutions centuries old, were simply nationalised by the 1945 Labour government. Thousands, perhaps millions, of lives have been transformed for the better as a result, especially in healthcare.

Top-down funding has local effects

However, an unintended consequence of ‘top down’ public investment in health and care in the modern era has been to sever the link between services funded by the state and local knowledge of the needs of families and individuals. (For all their faults, charitable alms houses could never be accused of this.). Town and county government re-organisations in the 1970s and 80s divided responsibilities. County councils took on education and the social care of adults. Towns and districts were not to be trusted with everything that could be described as local. (On this it appeared both Labour and Conservative governments agreed.)

The effects of this re-organisation on supported living were not thought through. Nowadays anciently rooted counties are responsible for commissioning services for individuals with autism and/or learning disabilities across significant geographical areas. At the same time, smaller towns (district councils) are supposed to provide money for housing in the form of rents. Therefore, elected town councils who are unable to exercise sway over funds controlled by the counties, are powerless to ensure that their local needs for supported living can in fact be met.

‘Out of County’ or ‘Out of sight’?

Such a separation is not helpful. Surely, local need should come first, assessed by locally accountable and elected people. Funding should flow according to need, with housing and care joined in a single ‘pot’. By contrast, in Germany and France they order things better. There, supported housing and care are designed together and provided together. Yet in a telling phrase, officials in England often describe many people with learning disabilities as living “out of county” (another connotation might well be ‘out of sight’).  They do not generally say they are far from the towns and places they are entitled to call home and to where a more sensible, locally directed public policy would re-locate them.

Our Anglo-Saxon ancestors would first have scratched their heads in wonder at these arrangements, before returning to the intricate task of incising into tiny pieces of ivory the astonishing interlacing of beasts and birds.

Say it in Anglo-Saxon
By Rory Coonan

What did the Anglo-Saxons (700-1066) ever do for us? Great artists, they also shaped the modern state. To them we owe Defnascir (Devon), Sumorsaete (Somerset), Dornsaete (Dorset), Wiltunscir (Wiltshire), Hamptunscir (Hampshire) and other English counties.  The ancient Kingdom of Wessex divided local administration into town and county and the distinction survives to this day. Neither the interruption of the Normans (a mere 300 years), nor the disruptions of the Civil war and two world wars have altered the familiar pattern. Apart from monarchy, the history of public administration has seen nothing like it.

The fundamental idea behind local government has not changed.  In more democratic times, people choose local councillors to make their localities better. (Historically, it helped if you were a property-owning man; women had fewer rights.) Since power went with assets, local taxes or ‘tithes’ were raised, often under duress. Sometimes these led to rich endowments of institutions (including schools and the two universities) by landowners. At the same time, Medieval England also saw the first examples of supported living.

Alms against a sea of troubles

This consisted of local almshouses. They helped the poor, disabled and sometimes people with what we would now recognise as learning disabilities. The counties were not involved. They were preoccupied with keeping on the right side between warring kingdoms. Many alms houses, designed with accommodation for on-site wardens, somehow survived the Reformation and the destruction of the monasteries. They expanded in the 17th century as a newly confident merchant class rose the social scale. Miraculously, some of these charitable foundations exist to this day.

Their survival has not just been about money. It had much more to do with locality, with being rooted in a community that could be expected to show respect in return. (It helped that many alms houses were also distinctive works of architecture. A living example is the Dulwich alms houses in south London.)

Charity begins at home…and can make homes

The earliest forms of supported living embodied the idea that charity, which begins at home, could end up making homes. This parochial notion depended entirely on local initiative. But local governance often led to abuses. Looking after vulnerable people whose survival was at the whim of private patrons was unlikely to survive the development of the modern state.  Industrialisation and migration of workers from the countryside to towns, especially in the north, cried out for new forms of assistance. To be effective, these had to be delivered at scale.

As new needs for treatment, care and support were identified, public money was frankly more dependable. By this means, personal impulse to charitable giving was gradually replaced by public responsibility for investment. Hospitals, including charitable institutions centuries old, were simply nationalised by the 1945 Labour government. Thousands, perhaps millions, of lives have been transformed for the better as a result, especially in healthcare.

Top-down funding has local effects

However, an unintended consequence of ‘top down’ public investment in health and care in the modern era has been to sever the link between services funded by the state and local knowledge of the needs of families and individuals. (For all their faults, charitable alms houses could never be accused of this.). Town and county government re-organisations in the 1970s and 80s divided responsibilities. County councils took on education and the social care of adults. Towns and districts were not to be trusted with everything that could be described as local. (On this it appeared both Labour and Conservative governments agreed.)

The effects of this re-organisation on supported living were not thought through. Nowadays anciently rooted counties are responsible for commissioning services for individuals with autism and/or learning disabilities across significant geographical areas. At the same time, smaller towns (district councils) are supposed to provide money for housing in the form of rents. Therefore, elected town councils who are unable to exercise sway over funds controlled by the counties, are powerless to ensure that their local needs for supported living can in fact be met.

‘Out of County’ or ‘Out of sight’?

Such a separation is not helpful. Surely, local need should come first, assessed by locally accountable and elected people. Funding should flow according to need, with housing and care joined in a single ‘pot’. By contrast, in Germany and France they order things better. There, supported housing and care are designed together and provided together. Yet in a telling phrase, officials in England often describe many people with learning disabilities as living “out of county” (another connotation might well be ‘out of sight’).  They do not generally say they are far from the towns and places they are entitled to call home and to where a more sensible, locally directed public policy would re-locate them.

Our Anglo-Saxon ancestors would first have scratched their heads in wonder at these arrangements, before returning to the intricate task of incising into tiny pieces of ivory the astonishing interlacing of beasts and birds.