There was always a strain of casual, almost unthinking, strain of prejudice in British society at all levels. I'm fond of the 1930s novels of Dorothy Sayers and JB Priestley, but find their casual, disparaging descriptions of Jews cringe-making. It was just the accepted thing.

A story from the 1960s: a friend of mine worked, as a teenager, in his father's hardware-cum-tool shop in the school holidays. One day a black customer came into the shop. His father was dealing with another customer and said, "Andrew, can you serve the nigger". Andy was appalled and muttered a hurried apology to the black bloke, who shrugged it off. When the customers had left, Andy turned to his father and said, "Dad, you called that man a nigger!"

His father looked puzzled and said, "Well, he was, wasn't he?"