Sunday, September 15, 2013

Dollars and sense: remembering pounds, shillings and pence


On Sunday 12 February 2012, my story - how Australia changed old money for new - was broadcast on ABC radio's Ockham's Razor.

Here's the transcript...





Sunday 12 February 2012 9:45AM


How Australia changed old money for new

On 14 February 1966, Australia changed to a decimal currency. Writer and social
historian Robin Robertson takes us back to that time with some amusing anecdotes of
how the population felt about this change.

Transcript 
Robyn Williams: What does February 14th, next Tuesday, mean to you? Not
Valentine’s Day I trust, or anything so soggy. For me it means one thing, in a word:
money. That’s when I and a few others, including Mark Scott’s granddad, Sir Walter
Scott, back in 1966, helped Australia to go decimal. Mark is now Managing Director of
the ABC and is also keen on decimal currency and keeps asking Canberra to give us
more. But back in 1966 it all seemed too much for some Australians. They were used to
pounds, shillings and pence and, if they owned delis or newsagencies or milk bars, they
were worried about getting funds in time to convert their cash registers. And that’s
where I came in, bending the rules to help Luigi and Rosa to have the till fixed.
Now, 46 years on, it all seems so distant. But for social historian and writer Robin
Robertson, February 14th, 1966, shines on as a date to remember.


Robin Robertson: It seems that Australia is about to meddle with its money again.
There’s a rumour that it is going to withdraw the 5 cent piece because it is too small to
matter. This coin, being the smallest denomination of our currency, is about to go the
way of the one cent piece which, to be honest, no one misses.

The loss of the 5 cent coin is small change really. When it disappears it will not be a
trauma as it was when Australia ditched one system of money and replaced it with
another. Few remember it now but until 1966 Australia paid its way with Imperial
currency, a system of money inherited from mother England.

Then in a brave bid for independence, the Federal Government did away with pounds,
shillings and pence and replaced it with the decimal system, being dollars and cents. Not
that we were willing. Money was the basis of all transactions and we felt that changing
our system of currency was somehow changing the rules. What would happen to the
price of sausages, or to our savings, or the value of our house? Indeed, what was wrong
with that most worthy of money – the pound, the shilling and the penny?

That was when money was really money. It was called the Imperial system and it was
divided by 12. Not like this wimpy decimal currency which divides by 10. Indeed, the
system of twelve had a certain elegance. For instance the number 12 could be divided
into thirds and quarters and still be a whole number. Ten could not. But this advantage
was no match for the march of progress.

It all started when we realised that nine-tenths of the world did not understand our
money system. They could not see the logic of 12 pennies to the shilling, 20 shillings to
the pound and 21 shillings to the guinea. Sometimes we couldn’t see it either.

Here’s an example. If we bought five items at five shillings and seven pence each, what
did that add up to? We needed pen and paper to do the sum. First we multiplied the 5
shillings by five which gave us 25 shillings or one pound, five shillings. Then we
multiplied the seven pence by 5 pence to give us the 35 pence. We called 35 pence two
shillings and 11 pence. Are you still with me? Then we added the lot together and the
final bill was one pound, seven shillings and eleven pence. As you can see there was
plenty of room for error.

On the other hand decimal currency was the science of money for idiots. If you bought
five items at 56 cents each a quick mental calculations gave us $2.80. This of course was
long before cash registers could add and subtract. At that time cash registers only served
to store cash. The rest of the transaction was left to the shopper and the shop assistant
who both had to do the sum then agree on the answer.

So we formed the Decimal Currency Board to organise the change to dollars. A threeyear
publicity campaign preceded it, so people could decide well in advance that they
didn’t like it.

Mercier, the cartoonist, showed how people felt about this change. He did a drawing of a
woman leaning out a window talking to a friend. In the background a man lay on a bed
'I can’t get any cents out of him,' she said, ‘he’s been in the dollardrums since we started
on that new dismal currency.'

The Decimal Currency Board tried to cheer everyone up by explaining how simple it
was. Just double the pounds to give dollars and halve the dollars to give pounds. Ten
shillings equalled $1, one pound equalled $2, five pounds equalled $10 and ten pounds
equals $20. And this is when inflation was invented. On 14th February 1966 all incomes
doubled.

Some shops were accused of taking advantage of the conversion to raise their
prices. Others could not convert some goods to an exact decimal equivalent, so they
stopped selling them in single units. Instead they sold them in lots of three, or ten or
twenty to bring the combined dollar equivalent to the old price. This is why, even to this
day, we are forced to buy a packet of 10 picture hooks when we only want one.
Some people thought the government was bluffing. The Sydney Morning Herald
reported a conversation between two elderly ladies on a bus. 'What do you think of this
decimal currency business, or whatever they call it?' 'Look, I’ll give it about a month and
I’ll bet we’re back to pound notes again.'

But this was no bluff. People realised this when the banks closed their doors for four
days in a row. No one knew what they were doing in there, but it was suspected they
were pulling the ha’penny, the 10 pence and the 11 pence keys, like teeth, off their
accounting machines and tearing up one pound notes.

A Molnar cartoon showed two priests standing outside a Commonwealth Bank, a sign on
the door said ‘Closed for Conversion'.

On 14th February, 1966 the banks reopened, changed from a duodecimal caterpillar into
a decimal butterfly. And, to everyone’s bewilderment, all they had was foreign money
called dollars. The banks insisted it was Australian legal tender.
People took the insult personally. They said 'This money is fit for kids’ games and
nothing else.' 'Except for the publicity, it would be hard to believe it was genuine.' 'I
don’t like it, I prefer my own money.' 'I’m really worried, I tried to give it to a shopkeeper
near my place and he wouldn’t take it. He was Greek. He kept saying it couldn’t be real
money.'

There was a changeover period of two years with the two currencies circulating side by
side. All currency, even clearly marked pound notes, was called dollars and
cents. Column 8 in the Sydney Morning Herald reported a sign outside a suburban
hardware store that said ‘both currencies spoken here’.



Four years later, in 1970, we decided to convert our weights (ounces and pounds) and
measures (inch, foot and yards) to the metric system. Legislation passed without dissent
through both Houses of Parliament. A new board was appointed: the Metric Conversion
Board.

This board had no regulatory powers. It was an advisory board to guide government
bodies that did have regulatory powers. So, the Weights and Measures Authorities
within each state, conforming with advice from the Metric Conversion Board, made
their own binding regulations.

In addition, the board convened meetings with sections of industry who then drew up
their own guidelines for the change to metrics. Metrics were to be gradually introduced
and allowed to seep slowly into the system. Thousands of pamphlets were distributed
throughout Australia and soon people were reading about it. But they did not like it.

Metrics were up against the fundamental human trait—a resistance to change. These
pamphlets told people they were going to lose their very dear friends the inch and the
foot. In 1972 the first metric Melbourne Cup was run over 3,200 metres, carrying a
kilogram handicap. The cricket pitch was changed from one chain to 20.12 metres.

Then the weather went metric and Fahrenheit temperatures dropped to Centigrade. We
learned a new word—Celsius—the media sang jingles about the ‘tingling 10s’ the
‘temperate 20s’, the ‘thirsty 30s’ and ‘flaming 40s’.

At first the weatherman told us both the Fahrenheit and Celsius temperatures so we
could ignore that new fangled Celsius. One day he told us only Celsius temperatures. It
jolted us into wondering how cold 20 degrees Celsius really was, and did we need a
coat?

The next conversion involved our wallets. In 1973 letter and parcel postage was paid for
by the gram. Criticisms of metrics were raised when some people felt that the new rates
favoured the Post Office.

In 1974 rain fell in centimetres, in numbers that made us feel a lot wetter.
Emotions were starting to run high in the butcher shops, where the price of meat,
expressed in kilos, seemed much dearer. One lady went on record ordering a kilometre
of sausages!

Our roads went metric too. All our road signs were in kilometres. Suddenly it was a lot
further to anywhere. Sydney to Perth was 3,412 kilometres instead of 2,100 miles. And
petrol was now sold by the litre, like milk, and you couldn’t work out how many miles
you did to the gallon.

Gradually metrics penetrated the supermarkets. The first metric packet of sugar
appeared in 1971 and soon all other packages and tins were marked in rounded metric
quantities. Some goods were in 450g quantities—an approximate conversion of a pound,
while others were in 250g, 500g, 70g or one kilo packages. Price comparisons of the
same goods were a mathematical somersault.

Meanwhile the calorie became four times bigger, then size codes for clothes went metric
and waistlines were bigger too. Then nuts and bolts went metric and your Imperial sized
spanner didn’t work anymore. Followed by oysters, and a dozen oysters on the menu
sometimes meant 10.

But in this turmoil of change one measurement was untouched—oil flow was still
measured in barrels. Nowadays, that is all that is left of the Imperial system. The rest has
gone.

We have lost the endearments of the old system: we don’t have the florin, zak, tray, quid
or bob any more. Nor can we write songs about walking a million miles for one of your
smiles, or loving you a bushel and a peck, because nothing rhymes with the exact metric
equivalent.

And the kilowatt and square metre will never have the same visual impact of ‘horsepower’ or ‘square foot’. Finally, lost to the world forever, is the ten gallon hat. It is the 43.5 litre hat!


Robyn Williams: Can you have a metric cowboy, with a five shooter instead of a six
shooter? Sounds un-American doesn’t it? Strangely enough, after a stint in the ‘Dismal
Guernsey Board’ in 1966, my first job on joining the ABC 40 years ago this month, was a
series of metric conversion: explaining joules, millimetres and kilos. I even had the
temerity to go to David Jones to ask shoppers for their bra size in centimetres. One bloke
got quite cross. The ladies were just puzzled.
Robin Robertson is a writer and social historian and lives in Sydney. Next week: another
anniversary of the birthday of veterinary science. You’re on RN, your world unsalted. I’m
Robyn Williams.


PresenterRobyn Williams

Producer Brigitte Seega

Robin Robertson
Writer and Social Historian,
Sydney



Comments (11) Add your comment


Is there a podcast for this programme, or is pre-decimal currency not compatible with digital technology?
BWD


margaret chaldecdott :
12 Feb 2012 11:16:44am
at the time of decimalisation of things all and sundry, there was a rather obstroperous union leader.
A letter in one of the dailies was simple -
Metricate Halfpenny
(that was the surname of the unionist)

Meredith :
12 Feb 2012 12:44:51pm
Hi
Thanks for another entertaining and informative programme - interesting to see that your spell check hasn't
changed to program!:)(please do correct my spelling if need be...maybe there is no spell check on this site)
Having been born in 1962 some of these changes occurred when I was very little, but I do recall the "Federal"
brand of matches had on thier boxes educational advertising with the change to dollars. Likewise the later
debate as to how to pronounce kilometer.
Now that I have been learning to fly and to navigate the "6's" and 12's make a lot more sense in terms of time
zones, latitudes and longitudes and nautical miles. Tens are much more easy to calculate but to navigate my
world while I still have trouble flying the plane and doing the mental arithmetic when it comes to nautical miles at
so many knots...then 6's work very well

Ross :
12 Feb 2012 10:32:20pm
Robin asked how would a cowboy go with a 5-shooter.
I refer him to the Smith and Wesson 642 that comes standard with 5 round capacity.
And, as for his assertion that there is only one remaining Imperial unit, I submit the use of thousands of feet, the
international standard in aviation for altitude.

Frances Lemmes :
13 Feb 2012 5:08:04pm
Most interesting,the conversion to dollars and cents 46 years on may seem so easy but it also took alot of the
fun and challenge out of shopping.

Ken R :

13 Feb 2012 9:00:42pm
Decimal currency killed my grandmother. Her diary records that she couldn't work it out so she died eleven days
after it was introduced.

Stephen :
14 Feb 2012 6:09:02am
Jazz music by Kilometers Davis.
The US auto industry is totally metric. It's fun to hear two engineers talking as if "16 inch wheels" is a product
name, and then metric measurements.
In addition to ditching horsepower and BTU, which need to be converted before any reasonable use, i'd like to
ditch parsecs. Light Years will do.

Allan Gardiner :
23 Aug 2012 2:04:32pm
Your finale's fairly pointed Stephen, but, in a word, and as distant as it may seem from the topic p_un'der
discussion, parsecs help put things into parsepecti..err..perspective, and aspectually aid a body in looking at
things from a different an_gle'aned. "Light Years", on the other hand, if they were f_ad'opted as a p_un'iversal
p_un'it of mere marginal measurement...merely introduce a paradoxi_cal'culating para_lax'ity!

Christopher Murray :
15 Feb 2012 9:31:02pm
In Britain and Ireland, decimalisation came five years and one day later.
In Ireland in 2002, we started using banknotes and coins of another decimal currency (the Euro), which had a
conversion factor of 0.797854. It confused a lot of people, and somebody said that because it particularly
confused the elderly, we should have waited until all the old people had died!
In Ireland, we are also more-or-less fully metricated now (unlike Britain), but it is not unusual to see produce or
meat priced per 0.454kg.

Patrick McGeown :
16 Feb 2012 5:10:26pm
I remember cream buns at school being 4d. But 4d became 3 cents overnight. So my threepence and 1 penny was
not enough to make the purchase. But three pence on its own was three cents. So I exchanged my threepenny
bit for 3 cents. Exchanged the 1 penny for one cent. And I got my cream bun. I thought I was so clever.

Allan Gardiner :
23 Aug 2012 6:16:55am
The Decimal Currency Board -- at any time, even circa 1966 -- would have failed miserably in any attempt at
trying to cheer people up in explaining how simple it was to make the conversion from pounds, shillings and
pence to dollars and cents if they did indeed say, as Robin Robertson did, in her 10th paragraph:
"Just double the pounds to give dollars and halve the dollars to give pounds (sic)."

One must actually halve pounds to get dollars and double dollars to get pounds! 1 pound did -- even at that
economically-equivocal epoch -- equal $2.00, ergo, half of 1 pound must equal $1.00! It's so simple, but if one
doesn't watch very carefully -- which Robin clearly didn't -- what one is trying to promulgate, then all hell can
break loo_se'quentially, and most often does. I'm very surprised indeed -- given the fact that Ockham's Razor is a
very popular program -- that no one until now has brought this error to light.


Letter to the editor:

'There was this bloke who bought a farm in 1966.  When the money changed to dollars and cents, his overdraft doubled.  Then they brought in kilograms and his woolclip dropped by half.  After that came Celsius, the weather changed, and there's been no decent rain since.  When hectares came in, he ended up with half the farm he formerly had.  They brought in litres, and his petrol cost more.
'Depressed, he decided to sell out.  However, the agent told him that since the change to kilometers, he was too flamin' far out of town!'
Mrs B. Cummins, Berowra Heights, NSW. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Horoscope du lion du jour michel perras horoscope 2011

Look at my web blog ... tarot