“GIVE me a child until the age of seven and I will show you the man.”
It was the age-old premise that led to 10 boys and four girls being selected for a groundbreaking documentary in 1964.
What began as Seven Up!, a one-off programme commissioned for Granada Television’s World In Action, became a remarkable series that has captivated the nation for seven decades.
A group of children from a range of socio-economic backgrounds were chosen to represent Britain at the time.
The seven-year-olds included a trio of working-class girls, one of them declared she wanted to work for Woolworths, and three prep school boys destined for Oxbridge.
“What does university mean?” asked one of two boys in a Barnardo’s children’s home.
These days reality TV rarely makes an impression.
TV schedules are saturated with it.
But the Up series is different.
There are no gimmicks, no playing up to cameras.
Just universal themes of life.
The question was simple: would the class each child was born into define their lives?
That has, on the whole, turned out to be the case.
The “greatest documentary series of all time” ended with 70 Up, a poignant final catch-up with the remaining participants.
First introduced as children and filmed every seven years since, they're now pensioners, reflecting on their lives and the choices they made.
The prep school boys have enjoyed wealth and privilege, following careers expected of them.
Tony, the Cockney lad who dreamed of being a jockey but became a cabbie, is still driving cabs.
He cried as he said it broke his heart to be discouraged from becoming a jockey.
The three council estate girls, Jackie, Lynn and Sue, navigated work and family life, and Suzy, the boarding school girl bruised by her parents’ divorce, and a chain-smoking introvert at 21, went on to find happiness and fulfilment with her husband and children.
Bruce, a rather serious boy who wanted to be a missionary, and at 21 said, with a wry smile, that he was the only socialist in his Oxford college, became a teacher in inner city schools.
Tellingly, the two boys from a children’s home went on to have large families.
Symon and his wife have fostered more than 100 children and Paul too is happily married, surrounded by grandchildren.
It is Neil whose story is seen as most poignant.
We first met him as a bright suburban schoolboy who wanted to be an astronaut.
By 21 he’d quit university and was labouring on a building site.
He became a nomad, moving around the country taking on various jobs.
He’s always filmed trudging about, carrying plastic bags in the rain, looking like a lost soul.
But there is no self pity with Neil.
Articulate and pragmatic, he now lives in France and seems reasonably content.
The one I found most moving was Nick, the Dales farmer’s son who wanted “to learn about the Moon and all that” and became a nuclear physicist.
Interviewed at 63, he revealed he was terminally ill and has since passed away.
Lynn died in 2013 and Michael Apted, who directed the programmes, died in 2021.
I’ve long been fascinated by the Up series and have often wondered how it feels to have your life documented.
It might seem a privilege but also, at times, horribly intrusive.
I found 70 Up, directed by Asif Kpadia, particularly moving.
It’s a reminder of how short life is, and as a viewer, you can’t help but reflect on your own life.
If this programme was made now it would, of course, feature a more diverse representation of society.
The Up series was of its time; we wince at moments such as Apted asking the girls about marriage at 21, and how 14-year-old Symon feels about being “illegitimate”.
It was of its time - that was the point - and it was often unsettling to watch.
But there will never be another television series with the same impact.
It was a programme like no other - a powerful study of class and humanity.
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