Divide and Rule: Unpacking the 'White Working Class'

For our last TikTok before the Christmas break, V4CE made a post about “How you can support BME people where you live”. Almost instantly, the comment section (of what was intended as a positive post to end the year) filled with exclusively critical and undeniably furious comments all following a similar vein: “How can I support white people against this vile anti-white racism?”, “What about white?! Racism is ok against whites in the UK”, “asking for special privileges over others is what creates racism”. In short, accusing V4CE - a race equality charity - of being racist against white people.

It is not uncommon these days to be faced with similar accusations of hypocrisy or met with the various ‘whataboutisms’ when advocating for any disadvantaged minority. The prevailing idea online seems to be that advocacy for one group must come at the expense of another; that interests rarely converge and regularly compete.

There are many reasons why activism finds itself framed in this way. For some, as the saying goes, ‘when you’re accustomed to privilege, equality feels like oppression’. For others, it’s simply an excellent and efficient way to shut down conversation. But when it comes to conversations around race, these sentiments are often a result of deliberate and strategic political framing of culture and economics, framing that divides the nation and allows certain people to maintain their positions of power.

When individuals took to our comments claiming that we were perpetuating the oppression of white people, it probably wasn’t those in power and those in parliament they had in mind. So, let’s unpack the question those of us in race equality work are often asked: ‘What about the white working class?’.

Race and Class are not separate, but intertwined

When race equality work is countered with questions about class, it implies that they exist completely separately from each other. When it comes to inequality, we are encouraged to think of economic and ethnic experiences not only as binary, but as in direct competition. In reality, racial inequality doesn’t erase class inequality, it compounds it. Research from the Joseph Rowntree Foundation found that all Black and Minoritised Ethnic (BME) groups are much more likely to experience poverty than their white counterparts[1]. Discrimination still has a significant impact on recruitment processes, and minoritised ethnic workers are disproportionately concentrated in low-wage and insecure work[2]. BME people also face higher housing insecurity, with Black Londoners being nearly three times more likely to live in social housing[3]. These are just some of many examples revealed by recent research.

This is not to disregard the grievances of white people experiencing class inequality, but to highlight that they are not alone in their struggle. Britain’s working class is not exclusively white.

The emergence of the white working class: defining class

So, having established that the working classes in the UK contain a multitude of ethnicities, why has this specific category of the white working class become so prevalent?

To answer that, we first have to acknowledge that class is no longer easy to define in purely economic terms. Going to university no longer guarantees a high-paying job, the housing crisis means that fewer and fewer people own their own homes, and Covid and the rising cost-of-living has left many more people struggling to make ends meet[4]. This means that when trying to define class, we’re relying more heavily on ideas of behaviour and culture rather than simply the tax bracket an individual falls in. This has allowed the working class to become a political football. With no clear criteria, it can be defined and redefined as politicians see fit, the public understanding often shifting depending on how it is chosen to be represented.

The emergence of the white working class: historical framing and treatment

This malleable understanding can be seen in the way that the framing of white working class communities has drastically shifted in the last 20 years. It wasn't too long ago that, so-called, ‘chavs’ (an offensive yet once widely popular slur) were habitually denigrated and maligned in British politics. During Tony Blair's Government, cabinet member Peter Mandelson described the working classes as "losers, no hopers, low life scroungers", "having babies instead of careers"[5], while broadsheets, like The Independent, frequently churned out pieces about generations "brought up on sink estates mired in welfare dependency, drug abuse and a culture of joblessness”[6]. Their portrayal in media was no better. I’m sure many of us remember Little Britain’s infamous ‘Vicky Pollard’, a reductive (white) character played for laughs that was intended to embody the stereotypical ‘chav’.

At the time, this framing was the most politically advantageous, as Owen Jones argues in his book (Chavs: The Demonisation of the Working Class) that demonising those who relied on benefits and blaming their struggles on their ‘cultural deficit’ was an attempt to justify the austerity measures and cuts to welfare provisions in the 2000s[7].

But now, the figure of the ‘chav’ has been replaced by the hard-working, authentic, morally decent ‘white working class’. Now, this demographic serves a new narrative: to disrupt class solidarity and push anti-immigration policies.

Problematising the phrase

By prefacing the phrase ‘working class’ with the word ‘white’, it suggests that individuals within this group face structural barriers, at least in part, because of their race. It’s true that the white working class experience discrimination. They may be discriminated against based on their accent, their clothes, the food they eat, or the postcode they live in. But crucially, they do not face systemic discrimination because of their whiteness.

So, why use the phrase?

The phrase ‘white working class’ builds a sense of oppositionality by dividing diverse working class communities along racial lines. It’s important to note where these lines fall. Racial distinctions within the working class are typically drawn only to separate white people from everyone else. Non-white working class communities are rarely differentiated from one another in the same way, and terms such as “brown working class”, “Black working class” or “Asian working class” are seldom used. (It is also worth noting that the phrase is almost never used to draw comparisons between the white working classes and their white middle class counterparts.)

Not only does differentiating the white and non-white working classes from each other create oppositionality, but it assumes that they have conflicting interests. Too often, underserved communities are made to feel like they are competing for limited resources and limited airtime. As a result, the struggles of working class people who happen to be white are framed not as the result of structural inequality, but as the fault of their BME neighbours and colleagues for taking more than their ‘fair share’.

This doesn’t just stoke cultural resentment; it distracts us from the real policies causing economic inequality. In the UK, the current housing crisis was largely fuelled by Margaret Thatcher’s right-to-buy scheme in which 1.9 million council homes were sold[8]. And yet, instead of talking about building more social housing or introducing more regulations to the rental sector, for many, the conversation has turned to blaming immigrants for taking up too many properties (despite the fact that Black people are four times more likely to face homelessness than white people and Pakistani and Bangladeshi Households are over seven times more likely to live in overcrowded conditions than white households)[9].

By creating an imaginary enemy, politicians don’t have to be held accountable. Certain right-wing politicians have weaponised the very real problems of white working class people to redirect anger away from the Palace of Westminster and towards the house next door, capitalising on feelings of fear and insecurity to gain support and climb the career ladder. This allows them to pose as an advocate for the white working class, taking their votes and taking their taxes, without actually having to take any steps towards improving their material conditions. As political journalist Ash Sarkar explains, “Railing against multiculturalism doesn’t put food on anyone’s table. But then again, it was never meant to”[10].

The result? Everybody loses

The ’white working class’ argument operates under the assumption that anti-racist measures have afforded BME communities a form of privilege that has raised them out of their class disadvantage, leaving behind their white counterparts in the process. But, as the previously mentioned research has shown, this certainly isn’t the case. The introduction of legislation with a focus on race equality has not alleviated working class BME people of all their problems, and it hasn’t exactly been that successful at alleviating racism either; on top of the ethnicity pay gap, the Department for Education found that university-educated Black graduates are, on average, 9% less likely to be in sustained employment 5 years after graduation than their white peers[11]. Access to opportunities doesn’t guarantee social mobility when racism persists in every class.

The truth is, posing anti-racism as a threat to working class rights does nothing to improve race equality or class equality. When identities are pitted against each other, it doesn’t just build hostility, it also neglects to address the actual living conditions of either party. Blaming one group for hogging limited resources stops us from questioning why the resources are so limited in the first place or looking too closely at where Britain’s wealth is actually concentrated.

We must ask why some politicians only ever approach issues like education, poverty and housing when they are in relation to whiteness. It's a slippery slope when targeted policies are deemed conditional on things like race or any other identity markers. As Richard Tice has demonstrated with the proposed ‘Great Repeal Act’ (repealing workers’ rights and protection for tenants[12]), for certain politicians on the right, it’s not a big jump from rolling out hostile policies for one minority to rolling out hostile policies for everyone.

Crucially, pitting ethnicities against each other is also extremely effective at disrupting the sort of class solidarity that could lead to movements of real change. We can see this in how the decline of trade unions over the past four decades[13] has led to some having worse working conditions and being at higher risk of exploitation[14]. The further communities are from finding solidarity, the further they are from mobilising, and thus the status quo is maintained. As Reni Eddo-Lodge, author of Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race, points out, ‘this is a classic case of divide and rule’[15].

Conclusion

Our current political climate is quick to descend into tribalism, but our TikTok commenters may stand to benefit more from race equality movements than they realise. Take Awaab’s law, for instance; this anti-racism driven housing reform, following the tragic death of a two-year old Sudanese child, has introduced regulations that strengthen protection against mould for all tenants in social housing.

It is only with intentional and intersectional movements that we can hope to dismantle unequal power structures. If we want to tackle racism, we cannot do so without talking about class. And if we want to tackle classism, we cannot do so without talking about race. Any ideas of competition are only slowing us down.

[1] ‘Poverty Among Ethnic Groups: How and Why Does It Differ’ (Joseph Rowntree Foundation, 2007)

[2] ‘Ethnicity, Poverty, and In-work Inequalities in the UK’ (Joseph Rowntree Foundation, 2026)

[3] ‘How Racism Causes Homelessness’ (Single Homeless Project, 2026)

[4] ‘Shifting Challenges? How cost of living pressures are impacting workers in 2025’ (Lancaster University, 2025)

[5] Peter Mandelson (1997), quoted in ‘White Working Class Voices’ (Bristol Policy Press, 2015)

[6] The Independent (2008), quoted in ‘Who Cares about the White Working Class?’ (Runnymede, 2009)

[7] ‘Chavs: The Demonisation of the Working Class’, (Owen Jones, 2011)

[8] ‘The right to buy: the housing crisis that Thatcher built’ (The Guardian, 2015)

[9] ‘How Racism Causes Homelessness’ (Single Homeless Project, 2026)

[10] ‘Minority Rule’ (Ash Sarker, 2025)

[11] ‘LEO Graduate and Postgraduate Outcomes’ (Department for Education, 2022)

[12] ‘Reform UK promises to scrap flagship Labour worker and renters’ protections’ (The Guardian, 2026)

[13] ‘Trade Union Membership, UK, 1995 to 2024: statistical bulletin’ (Department for Business & Trade, 2025)

[14] ‘UK industrial relations: A future with trade unions’ (CIPD, 2025)

[15] ‘Why I’m No Longer Talking to White People About Race’ (Reni Eddo-Lodge, 2017)