What does ‘class’ mean in Britain today? Are the traditional markers of social class still relevant? As our material conditions have improved over the generations, do we still have a working class in any meaningful sense – and, if so, who belongs to it?
Well, an intriguing piece of research has found that many of us think of class in very different terms than how our forebears might have done.
The research, conducted by Professor Dominic Abrams of the University of Kent, suggests that, for growing numbers of Britons, the old fixed class structures hold limited relevance and have been supplanted by perceptions of social status that are more fluid.
For example, more than a third of adult Britons regard themselves as belonging to a different class from that into which they were born, while one in seven are members of a new “polyclass”, meaning they identify across multiple classes.
Such sentiments are particularly prevalent among younger generations, with more than three-quarters of Millennials and Gen Z declaring they have either moved class or hold more than one class identity.
Similarly, those from privileged backgrounds are significantly more likely to identify across multiple class groups.
Perhaps none of this should come as a surprise. This is, after all, the era in which the political and cultural elites peddled the concept of gender self-identification, which advanced the principle that objective truth should be subordinated to our own internal feelings.
So, in that spirit, why shouldn’t, say, a person of high social status identify as a horny-handed working-class son of toil? Isn’t class fluidity as valid as gender fluidity? I jest only slightly.
More seriously, the research does reveal something rather alarming – that class chameleonism of this kind comes with a price.
A word of warning before you toast the collapse of Britain's traditional class system | Getty Images
Of the Gen Z polyclass, for example, just over a quarter say they feel they do not truly belong anywhere, and almost a fifth reveal that they experience “imposter syndrome” as a consequence of their class identity.
It cannot be a coincidence – can it? – that this is the cohort of people in our society which has been most exposed to an ideological blitzkrieg that told them they were citizens of the world, that open borders were a good thing, that common identities were all a bit reactionary and intolerant (unless, of course, they were minority identities, in which case full-throated celebration was called for), and that being inclusive and welcoming, even to the extent that one’s own sense of belonging was compromised, was virtuous.
And now these disoriented young men and women don’t quite know who they are or where they fit into society. Fancy.
When it comes to working-class Britons, however, the research tells a somewhat contrasting story.
For this group, class remains a fixed feature of their lives, with around 70 per cent saying they continue to identify with the class into which they were born.
Again, this isn’t surprising. After all, when one’s life chances – such as in the way of career progression and opportunities for travel and cultural exploration – are constrained by a lack of wealth, such sentiments as attachment to place, rootedness and a desire for social solidarity are heightened.
Belonging often means something different – and more profound – to a person who is tied to a place as a result of the hand he or she has been dealt in life.
The research also finds that, despite the blurring of class lines, classism and accentism are still alive and well, with 49 per cent revealing they have been negatively judged because of their class background and 35 per cent because of their accent. Such prejudice is a stain on our society.
Nobody should be made to feel inferior on account of the circumstances of their upbringing or the way they naturally speak.
Take Angela Rayner, for example. She may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but she deserves great credit for, in the face of constant petty snobbery, never attempting to soften her bluff northern accent.
It is easy in this day and age to forget that working-class people continue to suffer this kind of discrimination. Or that the upper echelons of our society – across politics, media, industry, the law, and even some sports – are still heavily dominated by those born into wealth and privilege.
But, then, working-class people have never received sufficient credit for the efforts they make in ensuring that our country continues to function – the people who collect our bins and look after our sick and elderly and deliver our parcels, the brickies and plumbers and joiners.
But I digress. This latest research ultimately demonstrates that things are less clear-cut on the issue of class than they once were. And that the traditional barometers for determining social status are in flux.
Some citizens will assume they’ve achieved such status in life that they have inevitably moved beyond their working-class roots – and, by the way, there is nothing wrong with such a sentiment.
Why should anyone be condemned for wanting to earn more money, or to have the freedom to enjoy the finer things in life, or to advance in one’s chosen career? All of that is fine.
When all is said and done, however, even those who are doing well in life – those, for example, who earn a generous salary and own a nice home and car – are, like the rest of us, quite often just a month’s pay packet away from real grinding hardship.
And it’s at such moments that, for all the attempts to divide us up into different class categories, we suddenly realise that we perhaps aren’t so different from each other after all.