Glancing through a selection of history books written in the 1970s, I could not help noticing that their acknowledgements were a lot shorter and less effusive than their twenty-first-century equivalents. So I will keep this brief and to the point. My thanks go first to my splendid editor Simon Winder, who combines the stoicism of Ted Heath, the cunning of Harold Wilson, the enthusiasm of Tony Benn and the charisma of Jason King. Working with Simon and his colleagues at Penguin has been an absolute pleasure: among others, I would like to thank Stefan McGrath, Nicola Hill, Natalie Ramm, Jenny Fry, Mari Yamazaki and Caroline Elliker. My copy-editor, the brilliant Elizabeth Stratford, saved me from more mistakes than I could have imagined. At the Wylie Agency, I am grateful to Andrew Wylie, Scott Moyers and James Pullen. I am grateful, too, to the various literary and features editors who kept me supplied with distracting but hugely enjoyable commissions, especially Andy Neather, Sam Leith, Brian MacArthur, Andrew Holgate, Matt Warren and Dave Musgrove, and particularly Jason Cowley, who allowed me to float some initial thoughts about Thatcherism, Don Revie and the politics of the 1970s in the New Statesman. For the initial inspiration, my thanks go to Roy Allen, Joe Gauci and above all Tim Whiting. For ideas and encouragement, my thanks to Simon Hooper, Martin O’Neill, Ted Vallance, Andrew Preston, Simon Hall and Tom Holland. I am especially grateful to Professor Iwan Morgan of the University of London for a preview of his paper on the life and death of the post-war Keynesian consensus, to Professor Sue Harper of the University of Portsmouth for inviting me to talk through my early thoughts on the 1970s, and to Rachel Morley for her strange but oddly contagious enthusiasm for all things 1973. My greatest and most heartfelt thanks, though, are to my brother Alex Sandbrook, my parents Rhys and Hilary Sandbrook, and above all my beloved wife Catherine Morley. She deserved a lot better than to spend the first years of her married life listening to me talking about Ted Heath, and in a just world she would now get a break. Even as you read this, however, I am probably talking to her about Jim Callaghan – and she is almost certainly listening with the kindness, patience and good humour I scarcely deserve.