The C-Word
One year after a Daily Express headline screamed “we’ve had enough of Angela Rayner’s gobby, female working class schtick,” the former Deputy Prime Minister has given her critics what they long wanted: her departure from power.
While it was ultimately her judgement over a property transaction which led to her standing down, it was, in the words of the BBC, “her prominence” - as a successful, outspoken woman with working-class roots - which “put a target on her back”.
You may disagree with her politics or her actions, but one undeniable truth about her downfall and the career that preceded it was how it was coloured by full-blown prejudice.
The adjectives that followed Rayner around - invariably “northern,” “working class,” “teenage mum” - were the precise opposite of the coded descriptors used for others, denoting belonging and signalling that someone will get on: words like “polish,” “fit,” and “gravitas.”
And that is before you consider the relentless focus on her personal appearance and personal life: how dare she wear good clothes, have fun, or spend money on things?
Her story is a bald reminder of the powerful role that class plays in opportunity, progression, and success. For Angela Rayner, this played out on social media and in the national press. For others away from politics, in education or trying to make their way in work, class remains a stubborn barrier that holds individuals back and makes success harder to sustain.
It slows how people ‘get on’ even when they ‘get in’. It can confer a licence to stumble or withhold forbearance when mistakes are made, and it happens in plain sight.
The data bears this out. Studies by the Sutton Trust and the Social Mobility Commission show that even when doing the same jobs as their middle-class peers, people from working-class backgrounds are paid less and promoted more slowly. The Class Ceiling research by Sam Friedman and Daniel Laurison goes further, showing how cultural codes of accent, dress, hobbies, and confidence act as invisible filters on who progresses. A report from the Trade Unions Congress describes it as “rife” in the UK.
This is why class is such a difficult subject in the workplace. It rarely looks like outright discrimination. It is instinctive and baked into how organisations operate.
Leaders make decisions about who to back, who to sponsor, and who to promote, and believe they are rewarding merit. In reality, they are often rewarding familiarity, relying on arbitrary signals. Over time, that narrows leadership pipelines, limits perspective at the top, and erodes trust among those who never see themselves represented. This isn’t meritocracy, it’s mimicry.
So, what can organisations do?
Please, not another campaign that becomes white noise.
The first step is to name it for what it is: prejudice based on background, however awkward that feels. The second is to measure it, as we already do for gender and race, using markers such as parental occupation, schooling, and free school meal eligibility. Getting people to volunteer that data may be hard because, like most subjects of discrimination, people carry a wholly inappropriate level of shame and embarrassment about their background. Many end up blaming themselves for not fitting in, when in reality the codes are stacked against them. But with 50 years of stalled social progression at stake, we need to start somewhere. The best can’t be the enemy of the good.
The harder step is to wake up to the codes we use and start questioning them. Stop assuming polish equals leadership potential. Stop using comfort as a proxy for capability. Ask who you are really sponsoring and why. Examine whether your internships and entry routes are genuinely open to those who cannot afford to work unpaid. And at the top, model humility.
This step is critical because leaders who openly discuss their privilege or the barriers they’ve faced enable others to speak freely without fear of judgment. They must beware peddling the notion that they somehow know the secret to beating or overcoming the system. Those, risk falling into the trap of 'fix yourself - you are in fact the problem’, when it is the system, not those who fail to fit its codes, that needs to be the focus of attention. We must also recognise the bigger truth.
The Angela Rayner story isn’t just about politics. It is about fairness and our collective willingness to acknowledge the barriers that stand in the way of success.
Recent flawed arguments that favour meritocracy - making the false case that the best will always rise to the top and suggesting fairness needs no intervention - are punctured by the reality that invisible codes still govern who gets on. Class may sit in a space of its own, but it also reminds us how hard it remains for anyone from a background outside the trusted mould.
Different origins still trigger different judgments. Angela Rayner will not be the first nor the last to feel how brutal those can be when class is the issue. If leaders choose not to care about class, they will lose the talent, resilience, and perspective they didn’t even know they had.
It’s time to get more comfortable with the C-word.