I began this book skeptically. Much has been written about the history of housing in Britain, including the suburbs. Could there be much new to say? Clearly and persuasively, Peter Scott argues that there is, thereby hinting at some neglected contrasts between Britain and North America.

Considering the range of the suburban interwar housing, Scott challenges two persistent stereotypes. The first, articulated by residents and academics alike, is that private developments and council estates built since World War I should be viewed as wholly distinct. Scott acknowledges that estates were working class, especially after financial restraints caused municipalities to concentrate on slum clearance and rehousing instead of addressing general needs. And if residents made fine social distinctions among both the estates and the private developments, they drew the sharpest line between these types. Then, too, Scott gives due weight to the fact that homebuyers coupled higher savings and incomes with a longer time horizon and investment prospects. All these were important differences, but he shows that there were vital commonalities, too.

In both cases, physical change brought social consequences. There was the disruption. People moved, or were relocated, from established districts to unfamiliar settings with new neighbors. They did not simply recreate the sorts of communities they had left behind. Circumstances were different. Further from work, they now commuted by bus, or occasionally car. Living conditions had improved, and changed: more living space, better facilities, gardens. Those who chose to move—and this included most council tenants—aspired to a new suburban style of living. But in unanticipated ways, the new settings nudged them to think and act differently. A new and larger home demanded more, and better, furnishings. Social pressure pushed men and women towards a more private domesticity, the enjoyment of gardening, the purchase of appliances, and, in general, more consumption. For all classes, maintaining respectability had always been important. Now, more than ever, this translated into the keeping up of appearances.

It is widely supposed that this way of life was enjoyed by, and then reshaped, the working class only after 1945. This was the gist of influential postwar studies that explored the effects of relocation and the character of the newly “affluent worker.” Scott does not claim that workers on council estates in the 1920s were affluent: many soon owned a radio, but only a minority could afford modest appliances such an electric iron, and few ran a car. (My two grandfathers were proud exceptions.) But challenging a second stereotype, Scott argues that on one vital dimension—namely, housing—qualitative change came in the interwar years: for workers, the move from a one- or two-bedroom terraced (row) house, with outhouse, to a three-bedroom “semi” (semi-detached house) with hot and cold running water was a huge step up. By comparison, there was a basic continuity between the interwar and postwar decades. Indeed, semi-detached council houses built during the 1920s, and even the 1930s, were superior in quality and size to those erected later, notably the shoddy high-rises of the 1960s. In earlier decades gardens, too, were larger, allowing for display, leisure, and self-provisioning. Scott suggests that the interwar semi is still regarded as the quintessential suburban home, at least in England. (Scotland, with more apartment buildings on council estates, remains different.) The counterpoint with Canada and the United States is intriguing: the Depression and World War II mark a long break, and the 1950s constitutes the essence of the suburban idyll.

Few, if any, of the elements of Scott's study are wholly new. Interwar suburbs, including council estates, have been well documented. So, too, has the evolution of housing policy, including the shift towards slum clearance. Scott sometimes overstates the originality of his argument and misses a few important works. Scott's book can usefully be read in conjunction with Mark Clapson's 2012 study of an estate near Reading, Working-Class Suburb: Social Change on an English Council Estate, which probably appeared after The Making of the British Home went to press. But Scott's assessment of the literature is fair-minded. More importantly, he offers a subtly new emphasis, some fresh and intriguing evidence, and a comprehensively balanced overview. Most studies of twentieth-century suburban development have been written by geographers or by social and architectural historians. Scott is an economic historian, aware of the importance of building practices, mortgage finance, and household accounts. He has assembled, tabulated, and made good use of a large number of oral histories—170 from working-class families and 19 from families of the middle class. Among other things, these accounts indicate the preeminence of gardens as the feature that new suburban residents most enjoyed (58). And so it was typical that, from the mid-1920s, my own paternal grandfather derived great pleasure from the vegetable garden and apple trees at the end of his 300-foot garden.

From oral accounts and other sources Scott has picked out intriguing facts that were new to me, at least. For example, councils believed in the moral influence of gardens, requiring tenants to maintain them well, renting tools for that purpose, and encouraging competitions (179–181). By the mid-1930s, building societies offered home buyers terms more generous than those available in North America until the 1950s (105). Coupled with the fact that the Depression hit Britain less hard than it did North America, there are good reasons why the English interwar suburb remains iconic.

Most usefully of all, Scott offers us a systematic and balanced survey of the interwar suburb. He deals in turn with the council estates and private developments before discussing shared features. He considers housing policy, as well as the construction, financing, and marketing of owner-occupied homes, including the dubious lending practices that emerged in the 1930s. He also describes how homes were equipped, the novelty of large gardens, the social life of the average suburb, and the social distinctions among them. The balance extends to his prose: he makes his points clearly, concisely, then moves on. Nicely illustrated, well written, and clearly organized, this book may profitably be read by anyone with an interest in the modern history of British cities and housing as well as by historians of class and gender.