My husband, Maurice Whitbread, who has died aged 92, took profound pleasure in running a radically progressive art history course at Leeds Polytechnic (now Leeds Metropolitan University) from 1970 to 1985. Working with a team of people he admired and trusted, he was in charge of a course taught by staff that included musicians and psychologists. Maurice carried over this diverse approach into his involvement with the Council for National Academic Awards, validating new art and design degree courses all over the country.
He was born in London to Bertram and Maude Whitbread. Eleven years later his sister Beryl arrived. The second world war took him into the RAF and he became a navigator. Ultimately his crew were in Lancasters – with Pathfinder Force – identifying routes and targets, as well as carrying their own bomb loads. The crew stayed together for two tours and managed to survive. They remained in touch for the rest of their lives.
Maurice was a squadron leader and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (and bar) and mentioned in dispatches. He then joined the Air Ministry, where he wrote up RAF history and was involved with early radar development. In the late 1940s he went to Canada, ending up in Montreal, but his leftwing politics and interests did not go down well and he returned to London.
His passion for history took him into the book trade and he, and his first wife, the educationist Nanette Whitbread, settled in Islington, north London. He collaborated with the actor and director Henry Woolf and the academic George Brandt, and was friends with the art historian Peter Lasko.
After his marriage came to an abrupt end he headed for Europe but eventually returned in his faithful Morris Minor. Art history became his passion and he took his degree at the Courtauld Institute. He also wrote for BBC schools programmes, broadcasting with the Overseas Service (now the World Service) and working with Patrick Moore and John Peel among many others.
In 1965 he moved to Leeds, thinking he would stay for five years, but instead spent the next 46 years there. He was by now remarried, to me, and had two sons, Alexander and Samuel, and latterly a daughter-in-law, Heather, and a granddaughter, Wren. We all survive him.
He lived in a world of books, music and postcards. His interests were broad and he never stopped listening or learning. Maurice was forever curious to know about other people. Tributes have echoed this, highlighting his confidence in others and encouragement of their ambitions. He always gave unquestioning support to his family.