David Rubinstein set out to produce a “narrative history” of the Labour Party “against the background of the economic and social context in which it has moved throughout its existence” (vi). He has largely succeeded with this accessible and readable book. Eight twenty-five-page chapters take the reader through the major phases of Labour's evolution from inchoate calls for working-class political representation in the 1880s to the highly centralized “New Labour” of Tony Blair. The book offers little to historians familiar with modern British politics, or readers looking for deeper analysis of particular aspects of Labour's development, but it is recommended for its intended audience of students and general readers.

The Labour Party and British Society is a synthesis of existing literature, not a reinterpretation. Rubinstein's focus is on the public face of the party and—understandably in a survey—the book concentrates on major events and prominent politicians. Thumbnail sketches of individuals drawn from both contemporary and later assessments bring the characters to life, although personalities sometimes receive too much attention. Among interwar party figures, for example, we learn that James Maxton was “a House of Commons favourite” with a “tendency to weep or joke” (57), while Philip Snowden's “bitter” hostility toward his colleagues is contrasted with the “conventionality, vulgarity, snobbery and patriotism” (63) of J. H. Thomas, the railwaymen's leader, whose popularity far exceeded that of the party leader, Ramsay MacDonald. Later, the personalities of Tony Benn, Michael Foot, and Denis Healey are credited with at least equal (and sometimes greater) significance in the fortunes of the party than either its policies or the economic and social circumstances in which it evolved and governed. As Rubinstein demonstrates in his succinct analysis of the Blair years, individuals continue to play decisive roles in Labour's development. At times, however, other forces are inexplicably demoted in this account, both the “British society” of the title and the less public face of policy making in the party's Research Department, backroom working groups and, more recently, independent think tanks. Grassroots membership and influence are rarely discussed.

Rubinstein's familiarity with a range of interpretations, many quite recent, is apparent throughout the book. On the formation of the party and its gradual emergence as a political force, for example, Rubinstein provides a good summary of debates over the extent to which early Labour could be described as a “socialist” party, and the relative influence of the trade unions, ILP, and Fabians, as well as liberalism and the Liberal Party. On the whole, Rubinstein downplays Labour's socialism, especially in the early years. Discussing the period before 1914, he returns repeatedly to the party's impotence as an independent political force. After the Great War, he identifies a shift toward “respectability” (52) and a corresponding distancing from the ILP's “extreme socialism” (61). Attlee's government “did not advance the cause of socialism” (98) and by 1955 the word “socialism” had disappeared from Labour's manifestos. From that point onward, any remaining socialist dimension to the party is largely written off.

Rubinstein finds little common ground between Labour's middle-class socialist intellectuals and the “workers” on whose behalf the party was founded; indeed, the latter group has apparently had very little interest in political ideas at any stage, extending to Blair's current need to contend with an “electorate without strong ideological convictions” (181). Rubinstein finds Labour's working-class leaders more sympathetic yet no more effective than Oxford graduates in making the party electable. Overall, the party's moderation and refusal to adopt radical ideas run through the book, although Rubinstein is also appropriately critical of the “electoral catastrophe” (153) of the early 1980s caused, at least in part, by Labour's brief flirtation with more radical policies.

The Labour Party and British Society is an even-handed and thorough introduction. Given their restricted length and intended audience, it is unfair to focus on the omissions in short histories. Nonetheless, this book would have been rounded out with greater acknowledgment of the impact of socialist intellectuals, who have had a powerful impact on the Labour Party since its inception. Their influence is perhaps most obvious in the rethinking of policies after 1931 by people like Evan Durbin, Hugh Gaitskell, and members of the New Fabian Research Bureau. Yet Rubinstein characterizes this as simply an “unhappy period” (73) dominated by antifascist activities. Likewise, Rubinstein tends to sideline the moral dimension of socialism, not only its impact on policy making but, more importantly for Rubinstein's interests, its influence on the public image of the party and therefore its electability. Figures such as William Morris and R. H. Tawney were undoubtedly Utopian in some of their thinking, but their visions of a “New Jerusalem” brought to life by some kind of socialist political party created an inspirational vision for Labour's founders and their successors. The legacy of these moral concerns is evident, for example, in Labour's grappling with “affluence” after 1945. While Rubinstein returns several times to the transformation of British society after the war, especially prosperity and consumerism, the connection between Labour and “British society” would have been strengthened through more engagement with the effects of “affluence” and the gap (most recently examined by Jeremy Nuttall) between Labour's visions of moral transformation and the harsh realities of electoral politics in modern Britain.

These are, however, small points. Rubinstein has done a fine job of covering many aspects of Labour's development in a short book, and his bibliography is a good starting point for readers who wish to pursue their interests further.