Higher education is not a neutral space. It is built on longstanding histories of classism, elitism and exclusion. Universities in the UK were not designed for the working class, just as they were not designed for many other under-represented and marginalised groups, such as women, people of the global ethnic majority and people with disabilities.
Widening participation has expanded access to students from under-represented backgrounds. But whether the same has happened for those employed within universities remains difficult to establish as data on socioeconomic background for academics is not routinely collected. Structural and systemic inequalities persist in the higher education workforce, shaping who is able to enter, stay, and progress, and who feels they belong and matter.
For those from working-class and other marginalised backgrounds, the pathways through higher education can still be difficult to navigate. The qualities and behaviour that universities associate with success have traditionally reflected middle-class values and expectations.
Our academic research has been informed and motivated by our working-class lives. Iona’s on the experiences of working-class academics and Jackie’s on the career trajectories of women in academia – focuses on those who have followed similar, often non-traditional, paths into academic careers.
What our research and findings consistently show is that inclusion is often conditional. There is a hidden cost of fitting in.
One of the clearest findings from our research is the significance of authenticity. Staff from working-class backgrounds often face an unspoken expectation to adapt: to align with dominant norms of speech, behaviour and self-presentation.
Teresa Crew, a researcher on social justice at Bangor University, argues that there has been an expectation that the working class will culturally assimilate into higher education. The onus is on them to navigate the historical and traditional exclusive practices that are built on the values of the elites and middle class. This might involve softening or completely dropping an accent, avoiding references to background, or navigating unfamiliar cultural codes. These adaptations to fit in require energy and emotional labour.
Over time, they can create a distance between who people are and how they feel able to present themselves. And they can erode individuals’ confidence to be true to themselves.
In his book Authentic: How to Be Yourself and Why It Matters, psychologist Stephen Joseph of the University of Nottingham asserts that when people are unable to live authentically, the result is psychological strain. He explains that if we do not live authentically, we can experience an “inner psychological tension that can be distressing … [and] likely to take an emotional toll on us”. This is why being inauthentic will affect our happiness and wellbeing.
Our own research highlights this toll: the effort required to remain authentic in environments that implicitly reward assimilation. The issue therefore is not a lack of willingness on the part of working-class academics, but a lack of conditions in which authenticity is possible without harmful consequences.
Authenticity and institutional responsibility
Socioeconomic background is not included in the Equality Act, 2010 in the UK. Universities collect data on student backgrounds, but we cannot say with confidence how many staff come from working-class backgrounds.
If staff do not feel able to be open about their backgrounds, what message does this send to students? Even if some staff do share their working-class heritage, this is not enough. Placing the burden on individuals rather than institutions is no way to address systemic, historic inequalities.
There are signs of change, including first-generation or working-class staff networks that create spaces for connection and support. But these are only a starting point, and arguably long overdue. The deeper challenge is structural. It requires universities to examine what is rewarded, recognised and taken for granted.
This might involve rethinking inclusion policies and practices. For example, some universities have included social class and socioeconomic status to their existing list of characteristics covered in their Equality, Diversity and Inclusion agenda. This can help create a culture where a wider range of identities and experiences are genuinely welcomed. We have both had powerful experiences with our students of sharing our working-class heritage, though this is not something some of our colleagues have felt willing or confident to do.
The promise of higher education is often framed in terms of opportunity. But if working-class academics feel they must leave parts of themselves at the door, inclusion remains conditional, and the system remains unchanged and perpetuates historical inequalities.
Universities do not just shape knowledge. They shape who is able to produce it, and on what terms. For too long the voices of working-class academics have struggled to find space, to fit in and to feel belonging.