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For almost a decade the OCDQ has proven to be one of the most “popular” instruments in research in educational administration. Developed by Halpin and Croft, the instrument claims to measure eight dimensions of a school's organizational climate. Such scores are then used to classify the school according to which one of six climate categories it belongs. Increasingly, the OCDQ is being subjected to closer scrutiny. Currently in the U.S.A. intense validation studies are in progress. This article reports on a similar study conducted in a sample of 72 primary schools in South Australia. Data from 727 respondents are analysed to produce a four factor solution. The factors are identified as supportiveness, operations emphasis, intimacy and disaffiliation.

NO ONE WOULD BE SURPRISED by the assertion that John Bunyan made a deep impression among the devout Welsh for a century or more after his unique career. The standard evidence for such a statement is of course the number of editions of the author, and for Bunyan a special compilation of all his works printed in Wales alone between 1677 and 1931 shows the impressive total of 188 titles (no fewer than 58 of Pilgrim's Progress) in various languages. For a land with only a little over a half million inhabitants and with only two cities with over five thousand population in 1800, this is a record hard to equal, demonstrating an extraordinary devotion to a single author. Yet beyond such eloquent numerical summary another particular witness emerges from an unsuspected quarter. In the 1767 Welsh translation of The Doctrine of the Law and Grace Unfolded is dutifully included the ‘Names of the Subscribers’ underwriting the publication. This particular list is so unusual as to merit perpetuation in its entirety:

Sir Watson Cheyne, M.P., recently introduced a deputation to Mr. Balfour to urge upon the Government a proposal for the granting of awards or pensions to persons making medical or other scientific discoveries of general benefit to humanity. The method suggested is the annual voting of £20,000, to be distributed in pensions, some of £1,000 a year, others of £500. In commenting upon the matter the Daily Telegraph observes that the public is more concerned with the adoption of the principle than of any cut‐and‐dried scheme, but it may be pointed out how essentially moderate this proposal is, considering the priceless value of the services which it is desired to reward, and how our credit as a nation stands in this respect. It has been pointed out by foreign writers at least as often as by our own that Great Britain stands above all other countries in respect of the number of original and world‐important ideas and discoveries contributed to science, and that reputation is well maintained to this hour. But what material form does the nation's gratitude, and its pride in the possession of such citizens, take? The answer is that they are not rewarded to the extent of one penny of public money, and we believe that ours is the one leading country in the world of which this can be said. Let us note the case of Sir Ronald Ross, for example, whose work in connection with the cause and prevention of malaria is a landmark in the progress of medical science, and has already been the means of saving tens of thousands of lives. If we considered only the direct benefit done to his own countrymen, and left out of account the honour that he has reflected upon the British name, Sir Ronald's work might still be regarded as equally worthy of recognition with that of a distinguished soldier let us say. But it has brought him nothing, so far as his own country is concerned, in recompense for the years of devoted and often dangerous labour which his discovery represents. Sir Ronald Ross has himself remarked that a doctor who gave to the world the long‐sought cure for cancer would get nothing for his pains from his own people; yet of those people alone, we have seen it stated on high medical authority, 35,000 die of cancer every year upon the average. For any material reward, such a British discoverer would have to look outside his own country. He might receive a small prize from the French Academy; he might receive—as Sir Ronald Ross, we are proud to remember, has received—a large prize from the Nobel trustees, in Sweden. That is not a very gratifying reflection; and even if it were consistent with our self‐respect that such services should be rewarded at other than British expense, the fact would remain that not one in fifty of our pioneers of science could receive such recognition. The matter is thrown into an especially strong light just now, when large sums of public money are being awarded—and most justly and properly awarded—to officers and others who have assisted Britain's military effort by inventions found serviceable by the Army and Navy. A great innovation in healing science will preserve to the world incalculably more lives than the most deadly device of war could destroy; but only the latter service is thought worthy of recompense. Yet consider the circumstances in which by far the greater part of British research, leading to ultimate discovery, is carried on. Much of the most valuable work in medicine, for example, has been done by men who, at the expense of health and strength, were carrying on medical practice at the same time, and not always making ends meet without difficulty. Even the researcher who draws a salary from public or private funds has no more than a pittance in most cases. Some of the greatest names in the history of British science are associated with melancholy stories of poverty and struggle, continued over many years. For such triumphs are not achieved without the devotion of a great part of a man's life. Koch's discovery of the tubercule bacillus was the fruit of eleven years of patient seeking. The wonderful drug salvarsan was only given to the world after years of monotonous labour. Any scale of reward which Parliament could reasonably be expected to sanction would have been earned a dozen times over by sheer hard work and perseverance alone in every case which was held to deserve such recognition. Mr. Balfour, we can be quite sure, would be personally well‐disposed towards the appeal that has been made. As Lord President of the Council, he has the national organisation of research which Great Britain at last possesses—such as it is—under his Ministerial care. The Medical Research Committee expends an annual sum of £60,000 of public money, which represents, we should say, infinitely the cheapest national investment on record. The sum which it is now proposed to lay out stands upon a similar footing. A great stimulus would unquestionably be given to research of every kind, if a reasonable prospect of such recognition were opened to the scientific worker; and a man possessing the definite talent for such service would, once adequately pensioned, be able to carry on without distraction the task of extending still further the boundaries of knowledge. That science should continue to be starved because men can be found to undertake unrewarded labour for their fellow‐creatures is not only a reproach to us as a nation, but bad from the point of view of tangible results; and we trust that the case submitted by Sir Watson Cheyne and his colleagues will be admitted and acted upon without delay.

If this is the only voice that is heard it will be deplorable. These restaurants and many like them, but which do not actually carry the official title, could and should fulfil as essential rôle in peace‐time as under war conditions. They are almost universally popular—mass observation reports 96 per cent. favourable comments by those who use them—they serve nutritious meals, based, as are school meals, on a defined nutritional plan, they are economic, they show very low wastage figures. On the whole, the same is true of industrial canteens, now over 4,000 strong and increasing at the rate of 100 a month. In these two closely related types of communal restaurant we have the essentials of what might become, with competent handling and appropriate guidance, one of the most vital foundations of our industrial machine, the health and efficiency of the workers. In 1937 I saw what could be achieved in this direction. It was in Soviet Russia, and I was deeply impressed. I could long exceed my time by referring to other developments in practical nutrition that will, I believe, proceed at a greatly accelerated speed in the post‐war years as a result of what has happened during the war. One more matter I would like to discuss. It is not only of outstanding importance, but one on which most of the others depend. I refer to education about food and food values. Outside Soviet Russia, no such effort has ever before been made to teach a nation the simple facts of nutrition and what to eat as the publicity campaign carried on since the war began by the Public Relations Division of the Ministry of Food. Its success is not measured by the expenditure of many thousand pounds, but by the millions who tune in their wireless sets at 8.15 a.m. for the “Kitchen Front” and by the popularity of the ubiquitous “Food Facts.” The campaign might have been a dismal failure. Had it been presented in scientific jargon about calories, proteins and vitamins, its fate would have been sealed within a few months. As it was planned, the basic idea was to draw attention to the natural foods good for health and the best ways of serving them. It aimed at making the people “food conscious,” in the best sense of the term, and left all but the barest scientic outline to the experts, who know how to fill in the detail, and the cranks, who usually do not. It was sound judgment and, in my opinion, any continuance on an extensive scale of food propaganda after the war must have a similar basis if it is to lead to better feeding and better cooking and not result in half the nation becoming hypochondriacs and the rest faddists. It was touch and go in the United States, already for some years past very much more “food conscious” than we are. Commercial exploitation of the sale of special vitamin products has been on such a scale in recent years that to‐day every drug store counter is loaded with a bewildering choice of pills and tablets, capsules and candies, every one guaranteed to contain all the vitamin alphabet. The movement actually gained such strength that it threatened at one time to pervert men of standing in the nutritional field. There was a more serious aspect of this than the mere possibility that they would themselves acquire the tablet habit. There is about to be launched in the United States a vast nation‐wide and Government‐sponsored propaganda campaign for promoting sound health by ensuring good nutrition. The plans for this campaign are now approved, and it is shortly to open in every one of the 3,000 counties of the 48 States of the Union. The really important thing is that it is planned on the note “eat good food.” What is the message? Consume every day a pint of milk—more for children—an orange, grape‐fruit or fresh vegetable salad; one big helping of green or yellow vegetables; other vegetables (potatoes); whole grain products or “enriched” bread; meat, poultry or fish; at least three or four eggs a week; butter and other “spreads.” Then, “eat other foods you like!” Do you appreciate what it will mean when a nation of the size of the United States wholeheartedly adopts such a programme, as I am convinced it will, cost what it may? It will mean even more than a new era of health for millions who have in the past lacked the means to buy the food they need. It will call for a vast expansion of agriculture. Seventy per cent. more tomatoes and citrus fruits than are now eaten will be needed; over a third more eggs, nearly 25 per cent. more milk, and so on. In all, an increase representing at least 35–40 millions more acres of land under cultivation, and not an acre of it for cereal crops. I was surprised during a recent visit to Washington to find how great an interest is being taken in the agricultural implications of the new nutrition programme, and how many influential people have accepted them as indicating the general line of agricultural development there in the very near future. There is an atmosphere of anticipation. How they will bring the more expensive “protective foods” to the poorer families is not yet clear, but they have already shown by Mile Perkins' admirable Stamp Plan that simple and effective measures are not hard to devise. This ingenious relief measure would repay study here. We have certainly to tackle the same problem on an even wider front than at present, and the post‐war period will be every bit as important as the times to‐day. As Sir John Orr recently said in commenting on nutrition as a foundation of the New World Order : “A system which of set purpose in the interest of a few, limited the production and distribution of food and other necessities of life urgently needed by the vast majority of men is incompatible with human welfare.” In the wide expansion of the application of knowledge about food and its influence on health that will take place after the war, largely as a result of the striking successes that have followed its application to the problems of war‐time feeding, we shall need more active help from the doctors. America can show us the way. Her medical profession is solidly behind the nutrition “drive” in that great country. You will not find a hospital in the U.S.A. or Canada where the scientific planning of the diet of patients is not a first consideration. You will not find there that any sort of food is thought fit for nurses; I often think that the obsession of nurses in this country with purgatives of every type reflects more than tradition. I do not believe that such an historic innovation as the free distribution by the Government of cod‐liver oil and orange juice for every infant in the country would have been treated by the medical press of America as a matter worth no more than passing reference. I am certain the merits of an 85 per cent. wheaten flour of good quality would have evoked a warmer response from the American doctors, as a body, than they did here. But our doctors cannot be blamed if they do not know about these things, and the hard fact is that few outside the younger generations have the knowledge. I once remarked some years ago that a group of intelligent housewives could talk more sense about food values than a random selection of middle‐aged or elderly medical men. That is still a fair statement. The fault lies in our medical education. Apart from a few lectures during his physiology or bio‐chemistry course in the pre‐clinical years—and those of us who teach medical students know how little impression that makes—and seeing a certain amount of happy‐go‐lucky therapeutic administration of vitamins when he is in the wards, the average student has few opportunities to get anything like a proper comprehension of a subject vital to his whole life's work.

At the afternoon session a general discussion took place on the basis of questions submitted by members of the audience which were answered by a panel consisting of the following:

Since their creation through the Industrial Training Act 1964 to hear appeals against levies, the jurisdiction of industrial tribunals has grown considerably. One aspect of this jurisdiction, unfair dismissal, is examined here. Basic principles related to the law of unfair dismissal are examined. The practice and procedure of an industrial tribunal solely in connection with unfair dismissal cases are examined in greater detail. A case study is used to illustrate the important aspects of procedure. Appendices give relevant forms and extracts from the appropriate Code of Practice.

THE following abstract in tabular form has been prepared by some junior members of the Islington Public Libraries staff for the use of candidates in Section V. of the Library Association Examination. It does not pretend to do more than set out the chief provisions of the various Public Libraries Acts in a clear manner, as an aid to the memorization of the principal powers and duties conferred upon library authorities. The whole of the Acts can be purchased through any bookseller for 1s. 4½d., and every student of librarianship is advised to procure them.

The statement of the Minister of Agriculture, Fisheries and Food, coming so quickly after the ban on the use of cyclamates in food and drink in the United States, indicates that the new evidence of carcinogenesis in animals, placed at the disposal of the authorities by the U.S. F.D.A., has been accepted; at least, until the results of investigations being carried out in this country are available. The evidence was as new to the U.S. authorities as to our own and in the light of it, they could no longer regard the substances as in the GRAS class of food additives. It is, of course, right that any substance of which there is the slightest doubt should be removed from use; not as the result of food neuroses and health scares, but only on the basis of scientific evidence, however remote the connection. It is also right that there should always be power of selection by consumers avoidance is usually possible with other things known to be harmful, such as smoking and alcohol; in other cases, especially with chemical additives to food and drink, there must be pre‐knowledge, so that those who do not wish to consume food or drink containing such additives can ascertain from labelling those commodities which contain them.

The second International Intervisitation Program held in Australia in August, 1970, must now be considered a milestone in the development of the study and practice of educational administration. From the second Program emerged the establishment of the Commonwealth Council for Educational Administration. Membership of the Council, which is determined on an individual rather than an institutional basis, is open to all interested in the administration of education. The Commonwealth Council for Educational Administration has a seven point programme of objectives: 1. To foster close links between those concerned with the improvement of educational administration in Commonwealth countries. 2. To foster a high standard in the practice and study of educational administration at all levels. 3. To hold Commonwealth‐wide and regional conferences on various aspects of educational administration. 4. To facilitate the dissemination of knowledge about research and practice in educational administration. 5. To foster high standards in the preparation of administrators. 6. To facilitate the exchange between member countries of teachers, students and practitioners of educational administration. 7. To encourage the establishment in Commonwealth countries of national associations of those concerned with the improvement of educational administration. Financial support for the Council was provided initially by the second International Intervisitation Program and “The Journal of Educational Administration”. Further generous and significant assistance has been given by the University of New England and the Commonwealth Foundation.

Our Dublin correspondent telegraphed last night: