white boy in a political science class bingo

One documentary, called Last Orders, studies the pressures on a traditional working men's club in Bradford in Yorkshire, some of whose members feel under siege. The season, called 'White', features a range of programmes about workingclass life in 21st-century Britain. Second, I felt that ventilating their views produced fascinating material in itself, which deserved a wider audience.Ĭonflict is at the heart of all great fiction, biography and history, and there can be few greater arenas for emotional conflict than the state of the white working class in modern Britain, struggling to embrace the modern, diverse, globalised, everchanging world. We therefore have a duty to reflect the views of all sections of the public, and the BBC is the right place to have a debate about these issues.Īfter all, the white working class pay their licence fees like everybody else. But I thought it was vital for the BBC to address their concerns, for two reasons.įirst of all, the Corporation has a unique voice in Britain as the nation's only public service broadcaster. The very fact that such a move is treated as controversial is a measure of how far they have been marginalised. That is why, as the BBC's commissioner for documentaries, I was so determined to redress the balance by commissioning a new season of programmes looking at the attitudes of the white working class. Yet there is something seriously wrong with a civic society which is reluctant to hear the views of a sizeable section of its population, especially one that has done so much for our country in the past and has felt the impact of social revolution perhaps more keenly than any other group. In politics as well, some might argue that the white working-class exerted an enormous influence, in a positive way through the expansion of welfare services to alleviate poverty and illhealth, and more negatively through the tribalism of the trade union movement that ultimately led to the disaster of the Winter of Discontent in 1979. Working-class culture was the driving force in popular music, comedy and sport. Working-class life was realistically portrayed in novels, films and dramas. Working-class heroes, like Michael Caine or George Best, were celebrated as national icons, their strong accents and easy self-confidence adored by the public. What is particularly bizarre about this approach is that, until recently, the white working class were seen as an integral and respected part of our national life.

The word chav, for instance, is now often accepted as a way of marking the behaviour of the working class, even though any similarly abusive description of ethnic minorities would lead to police inquiries.

In metropolitan circles, where sneering at any minority ethnic group would be regarded as an outrage, this white working-class opinion is all too often treated with suspicion or contempt. The voice of the white working-class is barely allowed to intrude into British politics or culture. No longer hailed for their community spirit, their attachment to strong families or their respect for tradition, they are now often portrayed as reactionary or backward, with opinions so outdated they can easily be dismissed. Given that they are the people most affected by all this upheaval, this is a bizarre omission. Politicians pontificate and academics argue, yet the voices of the British working-class public have been all but ignored. These changes have been the subject of noisy debate within the media, politics and academia, yet it is a curious irony that, in all the heated discussion about the consequences of this revolution, one voice has been largely absent: that of the white working class. Today, we are one of the most culturally and racially diverse places in Europe. Eyes on the prize: Bingo in a Seventies working men's club

White boy in a political science class bingo