What class am I?

Here we go again.

While I’ve mentioned it in passing previously, delving into some elements in more depth, a recent podcast episode has drawn me back to the realms of class discourse. A very British pursuit (which is rather interesting in itself), class is one of the many ways in which our society is divided into ranks. Due to the ways in which barriers manifest, class differences are able to swim marginally under the radar, particularly if you are floating around the middle. This is particularly relevant in modern society, where the advent of high surveillance media makes us all feel a little closer (and also a bit more alone, offering an isolation from people of other classes). Class identity is not as pertinent as it used to be, however certain groups (more likely on the extremes) still fortify their walls to outsiders.

New money, old money, no money

It is at the fringes of the sliding scale of wealth that we see the sharpest differences. The richest, with generations of inherited wealth, exhibit behaviours and wants that are apart from those of the rest of us. Recently, there has been a surge of new versus old money content online, as well as general commentary regarding who has it and who is faking it. This is a rhetoric that has been around for centuries, with the “self-made” being looked down upon due to their comparative state of birth.

The concept of being “self-made” also applies to the lower classes. Indeed, the fact of coming from a “working class background” but now being middle or upper middle class is used to evoke feelings of pride from other middle or upper middle class peers, as well as to charm those in the lower classes, both for their own aspirations and for clout. Relatability is a big thing nowadays for staying relevant in the fame sphere, and this “rise” is cited as not only impressive but also a reflection of character. You have grit, determination — you have gotten out of hard times and escaped the masses.

You are one apart.

This is not to deny that people have worked hard to get places, and in a capitalist society that works on money hierarchy and ownership, we have little choice but rise. Yet piling this pressure onto those who are working class and have fewer or no opportunities may be harmful.

When a celebrity professes that they come from a “working class background”, it makes them seem more approachable (or even acceptable) by the largest demographic of consumers. It gives them hope, while also retaining an audience. I fear, however, that in some cases people are using the badge of “working class” in order to gain reputation, even if some of the mega rich would look at them and sneer — once low, always low. The phrase “working class background” seems to be slung around a lot, with class mobility being a phrase entrenched in our lexicon..

Notably, this is a largely British phenomenon. There are brief portrayals of the lower classes in media, with soap operas being the prime example, and more recent shows like … upping representation, but the most popular of our media does not seem to hit the mark. However, perhaps this comes down to those blurring boundaries; what even is “working class” anymore?

Being working class

There is something charming about money.

By how our society is built, it is not only easier to get around the more we have, but by maintaining a certain image (which are stereotypically yet fixedly associated with class), the richer we are, the higher we may hold our heads.

While some spheres widen, other spheres shrink. It is true that working class people have more access to all different types of work and further education now, as an example. Indeed, initiatives to expand the demographic of people at universities has influenced many, not just based on class, to apply for places. I remember clearly when my friend and I were talking about this, being state school kids at a university notorious for its close screening and highly grammar school intake. She said that she felt like a number, in that she was admitted not on academic merit but due to where she grew up and the colour of her skin. A recent news story discussed the lowering of grade boundaries for university places for those from less fortunate backgrounds, and I had a few mixed feelings.

Firstly, I cannot place the merit in this. That is to say that it feels like an assumption; that those from lower income families and so-called deprived areas will not achieve highly, or be academic at all. It is important to offer people all avenues besides those that are academic, however this emphasises how we still have ideas about what certain people do, whether as a career or more widely. The initiative is good, increasing access for everyone to universities all across the country. It is undeniable that people who have attended private schools will have had higher access to resources such as tutors, but I think assuming that they will then achieve greatly and go onto a Russell group university also stymies their own personal goals. It comes down to presumption, and this is the core we must unpick.

On the surface, it may appear that we are attempting to reduce class boundaries, but it is the much more subtle acts that perpetuate and even worsen the gaps. When aiming to buy a house, for example, there are unspoken but real barriers for people. Economically, areas are shut off for those in a certain income bracket, reinforcing certain cultures with certain classes. It is all very subtle, and the unspoken-ness only serves to condone.

Another element of this is health. With money troubles comes stress, which serves to ail the body and mind, in addition to the lowered access to better food, environments, and medical care. Related to this is the benefit system, where those struggling or unable to work are supplemented by the state. The rate of younger people on these benefits is increasing, with the implicated generations being branded as lazy or “work shy”. Instead, I believe this is a gross generalisation and miscarriage, since we cannot know what is going on for every individual. While there are people out there who take advantage of certain systems, we must remember that most people are decent. With the current state of things, young people are more economically insecure than ever — this is not “just the way it is” or akin to our grandparents starting out in the world. Will I ever own a house? We’ll see.

Amongst all of this, I’ve been wondering where I fit. My background [to my shock when I first “found out”] is working class, and perhaps that shock tells us something about how under the radar class is, as well as the presumptions made about what a class “looks like”. Now, I’m at Oxford University (and even Oxford full-stop); notoriously a middle-upper sort of place. I don’t particularly know where I fit from an outside perspective, but certainly think I indulge in giving off “middle class airs”. The cafes I go to, the hobbies I have, the place I live; it all falls into that bracket, if I were to define it at all.

On the other hand, I do feel a pride in my background, which perhaps comes across hypocritical alongside my previous statements. I am not so far removed as a celebrity, and I am still very much working class, but there’s something warming about considering where I was born and grew up, the culture that potentially made me appreciate what I have more.

There is also the argument of accents. Certain accents, by default of their placement in the country, have become associated with certain classes, lifestyles, and attitudes. There is a vast diversity of accents in the UK, particularly from the Midlands up. Apparently, my accent is quite distinct, which I can’t help but feel quite amused by. It is wonderful to see a greater variety of accents in our media now, replacing the old necessity of RP English. According to Google’s AI, this accent is associated with ‘educated speakers and formal speech’, as well as ‘higher social prestige’, which tells you all you need to know. In addition to my previous piece on AI, doesn’t this just show us how our biases shape technology, our algorithms, rather than it shaping us from ground-zero? It is the input that influences.

Depictions et al.

Media is a great way to bring up and discuss topics. It is approachable and can deliver messages in subtle ways that stimulate our thoughts and challenge our perceptions.

A show that does this well is The White Lotus. Here, in a consideration of class, I want to focus in on the Ratliff family from Season Three. Under the cloud of his career’s downfall, Timothy is left broken, wondering how is going to hold everything together for the rest of his family. This speaks greatly to the perceived and expected role of the father, and in this way, the patriarch. While I won’t focus on this angle here, it is imperative to note how the societal pressure on men to be the solid, unshakeable, economically superior role model is damaging to both their own personhood, as well as impacting others at their most conflicted moments.

While the theme of money comes up frequently throughout the series, the question of its necessity is most closely focused on in the Ratliff’s story. The daughter, Piper, wishes to go to Thailand due to her wishes of going to a local monastery for a year. She wants to get away from the hustle of Western culture, from the expectations placed upon her. After spending the night, however, she realises that she isn’t able to commit to the lifestyle for a year. Instead, she tells her parents that, while ashamed of it, she cannot step away from the comforts of their way of life. Her mother condones this, telling her that it would be ‘offensive’ to not live that way, since they are the haves and the ‘billions’ the have-nots. This says something interesting about our consideration of class and money.

The mother is one of the most aggravating characters I think I have ever come across. She is so steeped in her money, and has clearly been protected from the hardships of not having it for all her life, that she cannot see beyond it. Her concerns are with comfort, and it is the image of a perfect life, a perfect family, that begins to crumble with her daughter’s wishes. Indeed, the family are “picture perfect” — the ideal of a white, rich America — and yet as an audience we see the cracks. The slightest glimmer of the mother’s insecurities are shown in her need for medication; it almost seems as if she is coasting through desperately trying to keep up this image, which is a theme also unpicked in the friendship trio. Ultimately, it comes as a question of money versus happiness, or perhaps more accurately, contentment.

Saxon is an interesting guy. To begin with, he is the classical “jock” stereotype, indulging in protein shakes and “bro” culture. He attempts to press this onto his brother with almost fatal consequences (an overt illustration of the risks of such pressure). In fact, perhaps we could see Lucky’s drinking of the protein shake at the end as that final step of today’s young men into Intel culture, macho male realms of the internet, or fractured mental health due to the pressures around them to be the “perfect male”. When Lucky awakens, he is brought back into the world refreshed and as himself, which is something that all should be allowed to do.

But back to Saxon; he is also harmed by this “ideal” image, through the collapse of his father’s work as well as in his sense of identity. He says as much, stating that without the job or success, he has “nothing”. His career is his purpose, money is his thing, and he does not know who or what he is without it. I couldn’t help feeling sorry for him, because the society he has grown up in, even with its privilege, has come with confinement.

I have noticed in The White Lotus that the subjects who die are not the most fortunate of the cast, and I don’t mean financially. Rather, it seems to be the most troubled who end up being the victims. What this is meant to tell us, I am uncertain, but perhaps it is a message to look beneath the surface a little; people are not always as they appear on the surface.

Understanding

No matter the divide, whether it be class or otherwise, I believe we can try to understand each other. It is naive to think we are so different and to base our interactions (or avoidance of interaction) on factors like class. Indeed, perhaps by speaking with more people from a variety of backgrounds is the way to “shrink”, or at least push back against, these ever-widening gaps.

As per usual, I’ll say that it’s all down to communication; without it, where can we really find ourselves?