The Social Distance Between Us: How Remote Politics Wrecked Britain

by Darren McGarvey (Author/Narrator)

Brought to you by Penguin.

Britain is in a long-distance relationship with reality....

From poverty and policing, homelessness and overrun prisons to Grenfell and hostile environments, Britain has long been failing those who need our help the most. There is arguably one unifying theme that links all these proximity. Proximity is how close we are to the action and how that affects how we assess, relate to and address whatever that action happens to be. Almost every job requires a level of experience and training with the notable exception of the most powerful people in the country—our political class.

So this is a book about the distance, whether geographical, economic, or cultural, between those who make decisions and the people on the receiving end of them. The distance between the affluent and the poor, how their interests and values diverge, and the assumptions they make about each other's experiences and intentions in the absence of any meaningful interaction. How even those with the noblest aims, inadvertently cause harm as a result of their social remoteness and fail to advance anybody's interests but their own misguided ones.

Could Britain's problem be, not that there is a lot of inequality, but that for generations, a small group of people, who know little about it, have been charged with discussing, debating, and sorting it out? At what point do we look for answers, not to the people who are hardest up, but the apparently educated and sophisticated, whose dominance of Britain's institutions has been virtually unbroken for centuries?

Genres: Nonfiction, Politics, Sociology, Society, Audiobook, Social Science, History

16 pages, Audible Audio

Published June 16, 2022

About the author

Darren McGarvey (born 1984), aka Loki, grew up in Pollok, Glasgow. He is a writer, performer, columnist and former rapper-in-residence at Police Scotland's Violence Reduction Unit. He has presented eight programmes for BBC Scotland exploring the root causes of anti-social behaviour and social deprivation.

Reviews

[David Steele · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was quite interested when I read through some other Goodreads reviews to see how many people said they found this book was shocking, and that it made them feel uncomfortable. I must say, I didn’t have either of those reactions. In some ways this is a book I might have written (if I was motivated enough!) with one major exception – McGarvey is an angry and driven young man and I’m a confused and weary middle-aged man.

Some years ago, I was dragged along to Barnsley Civic Centre to a concert by the Pitmen Poets. I have a general rule that I don’t like any poetry that I haven’t written, and the fact that this concert was going to be two-plus hours of traditional folk songs interspersed with other peoples’ poetry left me cold. Much to my surprise, Bob Fox and his band were amazingly good, and I was soon swept along with the moment.

But in this instance, I was uncomfortable. Bob and his band told stories from the days of the now-vanished mining communities. He recounted shanties and histories of the dock workers and fishermen of the northeast. He spun tales of a long-vanished working class community, which stood tall and proud because it knew it was the backbone of the country. I sat there feeling increasingly small. As a left wing, card-carrying member of the Labour Party, this was the first time I’d ever stopped to appreciate the difference between what the party was founded to represent and protect, and the pathetic middle class identity politics we have now. The more I thought about it, the more I started wondering what those long-dead ghosts of the past would make of us if they could see us now, and I felt ashamed.

I’ve had a second-hand copy of Poverty Safari on my shelves for ages, but I’d not got round to opening it. When McGarvey appeared on Triggernometry (podcast) a short while ago, what he said about “the social distance between us” resonated so much that I popped straight down to the local independent bookstore (middle class privilege) and picked it up. Well, that’s not true. I had to order it. There’s no way my local independent bookstore would carry a title like this without being asked for it.

I won’t bore you with my background, except to say that I went to a really good (comprehensive) school but still managed to walk out of its gates with only one GCSE. During my time at that school, I’d witnessed my family’s brief rise to owning their own home to watching them lose their jobs, split apart and eventually be declared homeless. I’m fairly sure that none of that is in any way remarkable, but it wasn’t a great start. Being otherwise unemployable, I joined the army to find it full of boys like me.

After a dozen or so years in the forces, my first civilian job was working for a builder which was appointed to renovate council houses as part of Prescott’s Decent Homes scheme. My job was to help the tenants prepare for the massive amount of work and tradesmen who would be disrupting their lives, and act as a facilitator for access and appointments. In truth, I was really there for two functions – first as a conflict resolver and secondly as an interpreter. The problem was that the tenants regarded every single person knocking on their door as “the council”, and thus part of the nameless authority that they despised. The problem was also that the managers coordinating the building works (and the housing officers involved) regarded most of the tenants as an alien species, beneath their contempt and only out to screw the system and claim compensation. There was no middle ground between the two camps – apart from me – as a native speaker, I endured the no-man’s-land for about ten years, until the stress, conflict and anxiety of it all delivered me to the therapist's chair.

During those ten years, I was paid shitty wages to form a bridge between the people I’d grown up amongst, and the people I wanted to become. I had aspirations of management, of rising within the industry and getting a decent wage. But I couldn’t lose sight of the fact that I was quite literally the only person who “got” where the more difficult tenants were coming from. I was promoted to the point that all I was used for was sorting out conflict and complaint for every contract across the region. Every time, I was seen by both parties as the representative of the “other” side.

That’s when it occurred to me that the whole network of council estates was not really much more than a gigantic “people farm”. Although many of the people living in them were hard working, houseproud and self-reliant, there was a similar number of benefit claimants, clients of social services, those known to the police, those who had health visitors, care workers, case managers, etc. These people might live without aspiration, might never be lucky enough to build a proper career of their own, but their very existence formed the basis for a significant money-making industry of left-leaning local government middle class managers who would probably rather cross the street to avoid the people they were supposed to serve.

These days I live in a little terrace miles away from the nearest town. I work from home, and the work I do is business-to-business writing. The closest I get to experiencing working class people now is when I stop and chat to the cleaners on my monthly visit to head office. I’ve got to be honest, I like it that way. I’m one of the few people who, in the words of McGarvey, is ‘grateful for the exacting dimensions of the sand box you’ve been allowed to play in’. I still think of myself as working class, but I’ve got to be honest, I’m much more of a reed diffuser kind of guy these days.

As for the book – should you read it? Yes. If you identify with the left and you live in a house from which it’s impossible to see a sofa in a neighbour’s garden, and if you don’t live in constant fear of the sound of the letter box, this book is for you. If you identify with the right and you think you know what’s “best” for the feckless, ungrateful poor, this book is also for you.

I don’t share the author’s resentment of the middle classes because, despite my genuinely working class heritage, I feel middle class now. I simply refuse to agree that every member of the aristocracy is – by definition – mediocre. I also genuinely don’t agree that you need lots of money to have conservative ideals. There’s more worth conserving in Britain than money. Although I’m not a conservative, economically, I am a conservative culturally. I also disagree with much of what he has to say about immigration, which the author says wouldn’t be an issue were it not abused by the odious commentators of the far right. I see mass immigration as a contributing factor of working class decline; a short-sighted Luxury Opinion to benefit the better off, but paid for by falling wages at the bottom of the pile. But let’s face it, we’re never going to sort that argument out.

But I find more to agree with than disagree. There is a yawning gap between those in charge (however well meaning they may or may not be) and those at the bottom. This gap isn’t going to go away any time soon. While ever we have a Labour party that’s become a middle class hobby, and a legacy media that’s increasingly calls for policies that benefit the middle class at the cost of the poor, this problem is only going to get worse.

[Anna · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Social Distance Between Us: How Remote Politics Wrecked Britain follows McGarvey's excellent first book Poverty Safari, which was more personal to his own life. This one is a fascinating, thorough indictment of socioeconomic inequality in the UK. It focuses on class, which absolutely permeates British society although political discussion of it is fraught with awkwardness and ambivalence. McGarvey cuts through that to get at the point: social class at birth is a critical determinant of health, education, wealth, and the general pattern of your subsequent life. McGarvey argues convincingly that the distance between classes has grown in recent decades as a result of political choices and this self-reinforcing process is making Britain worse and worse.

McGarvey explains in detail how the Conservative government's reform of the benefit system by replacing most of it with Universal Credit has created deprivation, misery, and despair, trapping people in poverty. For example, women trying to escape domestic abuse:

Elaine also noted that where victims have sought refuge after attempting to leave abusive partners, they must also contend with a legal struggle to retain custody of their children. One that requires legal aid - a means-tested benefit which has also been cut - which can only be granted with proof of benefit entitlement is provided. The six week lag between applying for Universal Credit and receiving it means this proof is often not available, leaving victims and their children vulnerable not simply to the acute financial hardship of weeks without income but also to additional abuse in the family courts where they must often face their abusers without legal representation.

Punitive drugs policy and health inequalities are also examined in detail. McGarvey's analysis of class in Britain is deeply insightful:

Like class, meritocracy is just a concept. But unlike class, there is little evidence meritocracy exists, despite the fact so many believe it's real. The great irony also speaks to the confusion at the core of British culture; those who believe we live in a meritocracy tend also to dismiss the existence or relevance of the class system. This widely held misconception has led to mass confusion about the true nature of British society, how it is structured and organised.
[...]
The clue that something is amiss lies in the performative pride [middle class people] exhibit when talking about their working-class heritage - any genuinely lower-class person person knows that ascending the ladder's rungs is in part contingent on concealing traces of your origin. [...] You would only profess to be working class if you were confident that it would have no detrimental effect on your social or professional standing - a confidence which comes with a more priviliged upbringing. The other explanation is that class, like everything else today, is construed through the lens of individual identity. Something in the eye of the beholder. Class becomes a subjective interpretation and experience - not a measurable, objective fact.

McGarvey argues that political intentions aren't necessarily malign (although with some policies it is difficult to imagine otherwise). Rather, cruel policies result from the massive distance in life experience between professional politicians, who are disproportionately from wealthy middle or upper class backgrounds, and people in poverty:

It may be hard to believe that Tories go through with all of this because they care. I struggle to accept this myself sometimes. But the conclusion I have reached is that people motivated by a desire to inflict general misery simply do not possess the energy to fuck everything up so precisely. These are not the acts of people hellbent on general social destruction; these are the deeds of individuals whose lack of lived experience in areas like education, the labour market, criminal justice, addiction, homelessness, and poverty compels them to tear the complex weft of Britain's social fabric to shreds in extremely careful and specific ways.

As well as dissecting the social policies of the right, McGarvey includes a measured and thought-provoking critique of the left and of Labour's weakness in opposition to recent terrible Tory governments. He argues for greater emphasis on class, in order to counter far right populism:

The left's central preoccupation must always be class politics. Class politics which is fully inclusive of all protected and minority groups, of course, but which organises around tangible class-related grievances and objectives. Class creates the connective tissue sufficient to build a mass movement carrying a message of the necessary weight and depth to move society's economic needle. Whether racial minority, the LGBT community, people living with disabilities, addiction issues, or mental illness, social position remains the decisive factor shaping the experiences of most who count themselves around protected or minority groups. [...] Social class offers a fuller explanation of the material conditions of poverty, exclusion, and discrimination in which many from protected or minority backgrounds find themselves. Asserting this is not to dismiss the role that cultural identities play but is simply to recognise that the compromises made by institutions in the face of pressure rooted in cultural grievances as opposed to economic ones are often cosmetic or rhetorical in nature, offering little with respect to widening opportunity or raising living standards.

This point seems particularly apposite given that of the last four UK Prime Ministers, two were women and Rishi Sunak is BAME. (Although Liz Truss was only PM for 49 disastrous days, LOL.) Boris Johnson is the sole white man among them, but all are wealthy Tories and their policies have consistently shredded the welfare safety net, advantaging the wealthy at the expense of the poor. It is depressing to contemplate the full detail of what a horrible mess Britain is in, but helpful for understanding what has gone wrong and where the political solutions might be found. I found The Social Distance Between Us: How Remote Politics Wrecked Britain powerful and informative.

[Anthony Weir · Rating 5 out of 5]

I am middle-class. I was sent against my will to a government-funded, fee-paying school which I hated. I was dragged reluctantly along the conveyor belt to a minor university. I dropped out. I started to hate the middle class and everything it stood for. So I left it. I became a class-refugee, 'déclassé' as we snooty class-refugees would term it. This was the mid-sixties. I got a job as a gardener at a Stately Home. I was fired because my bean-rows weren't straight. I 'signed on the dole'. I never worked again. Now, thanks to the EU I get an Old Person's dole (900 euros a month) from the French state.

But I was able to be downwardly mobile precisely because of my education. Although I hated school, I loved learning, and was good at English, French, Biology and German. This meant that I could sustain myself morally and intellectually.

The mainstay of the vile class system in Britain (unique in Europe) is Private Education. When a revolutionary socialist government introduced the Welfare State in the late 1940s it preferred to offer generous hand-outs to the poor rather than uproot the class system which made them poor. It subsidised the private schools (known as Public Schools) so that they could take bright members of the lower middle class at greatly-reduced fees. It created a system of Bucket Schools for the working class, albeit with better teachers than the untrained schoolmasters of the élite establishments, but with a built-in sense of failure. This sense of failure is at the core of "socialism" in Britain. The Labour Party betrayed - not the workers - but the poor. The workers were encouraged to monetise themselves while living in deprived areas, and so they kept asking for higher wages, but never a better environment.

All this is highlighted in (b>Darren McGarvey's superb book. All of British society is permeated by class - more so than by racial prejudice. Your accent betrays you. I speak with a middle class (Belfast) accent. I was a shoplifter, but I was always treated well by the police because of my accent : "well-spoken" is the term. I went to prison for shoplifting, and was treated very well by both inmates and warders. I was a nuisance at the Dole Office, particularly when I rushed to the defence of an illiterate unemployed man who was being treated abominably by the middle-class woman on the other side of the wire. Because I was "well-spoken" I was told that I was not to "sign on" every fortnight, that my generous dole would be sent out to me by girocheck. My dole has always seemed generous because, because of my education, I can live well within my means. The poor cannot, because the system does not think it worth-while to teach them how to economise, does not teach them simple logic - teaches them nothing. The system is weighted every which way.

It all boils down to education. I moved to France because of Brexit, being ineluctably middle-class, and the blessed Irish Nationality which, being a middle-class protestant, I had to claim. (When Thatcher sold off council houses I tore up my imperialist British passport.) I was ashamed to be British and to be white, as well as ashamed of my class. France has a terrible education system based on rote - but not based on class. Class is a much more simple and honest thing in France : it's the small élite versus the rest, just as it was before the Revolution.

All this autobiography is trotted out because I (rather like George Orwell, I suppose) grew up with middle-class attitudes and had to shed them one by one. I had that choice. I have had "the poor" (alcoholic, hopeless, queer) in my house, and I have seen how humiliated they are - and how frightened of every agency of the state. Northern Ireland had a Dole and Remittance Economy (with almost 25% unemployment weighted against Catholics), and I bore no stigma for being designated Unemployable - probably because I was "well-spoken"!

Something that Darren did not point out: for the most excluded and socially-deprived, intellectually-unstimulated kids, the very set-up, the very classroom of a school, the very accent of a teacher can intimidate them into "stupidity" and refusal to learn.

Y'all who read this book are almost certainly well-spoken, possibly even "intellectual" (a dirty word in Anglophone circles, nearly as bad as "immigrant"). Never mind, keep on reading. Join in Darren's anger, and consider his 'social mobility'. Levelling Down would be much better (for the planet also) than Levelling Up. But don't try to speak with a "working-class" accent.

[Paul · Rating 3 out of 5]

Overall I felt like it was trying to cover too much ground, and ended up being a bit scattergun. The second half of the book was more interesting and it was strongest when debating the ideas of class in British society.

I fear it will preach to the converted, and so won't teach the people that need to read it anything.

[Francesca Thomson · Rating 5 out of 5]

Uncomfortable, important, brilliant!

[Gayle (OutsmartYourShelf) · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book lays bare the facts that confirm Britain is a country divided, one that is still in the grasp of class warfare. Reading this book really annoyed me & not because it was a bad read, but because so much of what I read showed exactly how the system is still loaded against those in poverty, the working class, long term sick, & those with disabilities. As someone with long term health issues I live it but it still surprised me how insidious class privilege is in twenty-first century Britain. Where you are born & who your parents are still play a huge part in your health & life expectancy, your education prospects, & how successful you are likely to be, & the veneer of meritocracy is exposed to be a smokescreen, a mirage.

The rules are decided a group of people, many of whom are privately educated, personally wealthy & from the middle & upper classes, who have rarely suffered through the severe hardship that poverty brings, some even being 'parachuted' into safe parliament seats. The author asks: how can those who are socially removed or at a distance to those experiencing these problems fully empathise & legislate accordingly? For example, how can a millionaire Chancellor of the Exchequer know how it feels to try & survive on Job Seekers? The author doesn't tirade against the middle & upper classes as being deliberately harmful or fundamentally bad people but argues that this "social distance" disproportionately harms those who are already the most vulnerable.

Towards the end, the author makes some suggestions as to what would need to happen to get Britain back on a more even keel, such as scrapping the two-tier education system, & ensuring workers are represented on company boards. I'm not sure about making voting mandatory, but I do believe that our politicians need more real life experience before carving out a career in politics. .Anyone who has seen the deeply unjust way that the working class, the unemployed, & those with disabilities were treated both during & after the Covid pandemic knows that something needs to change. Read this it's a damning indictment of all that is wrong with modern Britain.

My thanks to NetGalley & publishers, Ebury Publishing/Penguin Random House UK, for the opportunity to read an ARC.

[Alexa · Rating 2 out of 5]

Too simplistic and down with the people for my liking. However did have several points which I believe could be expanded on in separate chapters or as stand alone books. For myself the American Corporatization of Britain. The book has it's merits and touched a lot of ground.

My main issue is this. As an immigrant myself and from own experience Britain's concept of poverty seems to be through the a capitalist lense, excessive materialism and consumerism.

I am sure when I speak of poverty it is not the same as persons in here.

For me so called immigration anxieties are projections and pretexts that would take some other form if it were not for immigration. As the author put it in plain speak 'a political red herring '.

As for addiction that is another story on it's own but not divorced from social ailments. People often replace one addiction with another legal form so we are not at the root of addiction. From a entirely sociological perspective it appears to be a typically Northern European problem though not exclusively one. Overall, the book generates more questions than answers.

[Melissa Todd · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book breathes fury. Every corner of Britain’s loathsome class system is dissected and analysed; every injustice considered to see how they interact and make this country a place so utterly devoid of hope for the working class. It brilliantly bursts open the myth of meritocracy. It looks to the right, the left and to populist political movements to question how we got here and where on earth we could turn for change. It is carefully researched, thoughtful and surprising; packed with statistics, case studies and rage. It made me furious too. As soon as I’d finished my review copy I bought the hardback,: I couldn’t bear to be without it. This should be compulsory reading for every schoolchild, parent, employee, politician; anyone baffled and incensed by the unfairness in opportunity and outcome from which every facet of British life suffers. Buy it.

[Lorna McFadyean · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a pretty dense read, and I'm quite relieved that it's over! I can't fault the content, and other than coming across as a bit of a poverty know-it-all at times, the author does know his stuff. For me, it just felt a bit like reading a textbook, and I'm not sure how much I actually retained. For that reason, it's a cautious 3.5 🌟 from me.

P.S. It's definitely a book to gift to anyone who believes that it's a level playing field out there. (Spoiler alert: it's not.)

[books4chess · Rating 4 out of 5]

“Nothing can exist without an environment to support it. Sheer celestial chance placed us just the right distance from the sun, in what is often referred to as the Goldilocks zone. The Earth’s proximity from a flaming ball of gas is what makes our existence, our ives and our perceived achievements and failures possible - yet we’re supposed to believe Boris Johnson is the prime minister because he is the best person for the job."

The social distance between us is an enthralling recount of how British society has developed into no longer serving the people within it, from the loss of community to the icing out of anyone with different opinions - a habit unwittingly adopted by many who gain a seat at the table by proxy of not wishing to lose the space they’ve fought so hard to gain, in conjunction with a newfound consideration of these once motivating views as now ‘naive’ or ‘idealistic’. Additionally, McGarvey hits the nail on the head around the theme of class-war which permeates British life covertly, explaining that as someone who once campaigned almost religiously to address this, “it’s trickier to touch the topic of class when you’ve made a few quid”.
As someone who politically leans central, I had a great appreciation in McGarvey’s recognition that the radical left has cause just as much damage as the radical right. There is no true place for radicalism in a homogenous society, and despite his own evident left-leaning stances which inform the majority of his writing, the self-awareness does a lot to avoid alienation of readers with different political leanings. Honestly, it’s also the first book I’ve personally seen that calls out the damage I remember so clearly from the last general election and raises the question around how we are so willing to accuse anyone of differing opinions of ‘hating’, without consideration of their alternative opinions.
“When you become so immersed in a they and have little contact with the wider population, you come to perceive natural scepticism and disagreement as the enemy - not an opportunity to refine ideas and develop new strategies”.


That said, there’s a lot of blame and finger pointing aimed at the reader, holding individuals accountable for structural imbalances which they have no control over. Where much of the book leans onto policies and shifts over time that go against the majority, it would not have been possible for the collective to prevent those changes then, nor so easily now. A common theme in modern day musings around society often identify a group of people as the villains, as opposed to focusing on the change in circumstances out of their control - a factor McGarvey touches on when he highlights how “New Labour is famed for essentially preserving Thatcher’s legacy and she herself cited them repeatedly as her greatest political achievement”. In a system that effectively has one party, the blame game benefits no one.

“The Welfare State [has become] an ideology where citizens become assets and liabilities in public services which are run like cash-and-carries - except, where the poor are concerned, the customer is never right”.

The book makes you think and presents a lot of interesting information. I didn’t agree with all of it, but that made it just as worthwhile a read.

Thank you NetGalley for the Arc.

[Des · Rating 3 out of 5]

This book is a hard read - firstly in the sense of how uncomfortable it makes you feel. But provoking feeling is the point. Change never comes from comfort. It made me uncomfortably self-conscious of my own class, so much so that it feels hard to even write this review. I know I will be judged. In many ways my upbringing in working class West Belfast in the seventies mean that the social distance between DMcG and me is relatively small. A lot of what is described I can easily relate to. In fact the best thing about this book is how relatable it is precisely because it is written from first-hand experience. The second element that makes the book a hard read is the language. The following quote picked at random illustrates: "the British Welfare State is a vast, malevolent enterprise, engaged in the daily manufacture of death, despair and dysfunction, perpetrated from behind an administrative perimeter, fortified by media-generated public ignorance and a political class, spanning all parties, which is either complicit in the cruelty or skimming over the detail." The language is angry, unashamedly partizan and provocative. It is a call to action, a call for change. At some point Darren mentions in the introduction that he wants the book to be read by policymakers and to be a catalyst for change. Unfortunately I do not see many policymakers actually reading this. The reason I say this is that many of the sentences are too long, too ranting and too subjective. I know the book is heavily based on first-hand personal experience, and that Darren wants to passionately convey the urgency of the changes required in society. However to be a tool for policy change I suspect policymakers will demand more 'researched', "scientifically supported evidence" etc. Darren though of course, through this book, is screaming, enough with the research and studies already, let's get to the action, let's get to the change. And so it is that both sides continue to talk past each other....

[Bob Hughes · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is angry, and rightly so.

Charting a route through many inequalities in society, McGarvey's argument is deceptively simple- that the social distance we think of now from Covid is only a more modern version of what has been happening societally for centuries, namely that the lives of the poorest and most vulnerable in society are almost never seen by those on the other end of fortune.

The book covers topics such as unequal health outcomes, addiction, aspiration, class and much more, using this lens to show how inured many people's lives are from seeing the reality around them.

This distance multiplies over time, as those who pass laws and oversee programmes to support the most vulnerable often live the kinds of lives that rarely interact with those who they are aiming to support.

This book is raging fire of the best kind, designed to burn down and start again.

I received an advanced copy of this book from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

[Nicola · Rating 4 out of 5]

As I steadily plod on in years, the number of experiences I've had that reflects Darrens commentary or insight similarly grows. I've seen first hand the effects that Darren discusses in his book, not least due to living in similar communities but also in working in the homelessness sector in Scotlands biggest city. He absolutely hits the nail on the head with this commentary and explains valuable and thought provoking concepts in an incredibly real and expressive manner. I found myself saying 'Exactly!' out loud several times in agreement with his, and other folks, observations.
If you haven't read 'Poverty Safari', put that on your list next, and hopefully see you in the trenches fighting for better things.

[David Begley · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent, challenging, honest, uncomfortable: middle classes, political, public service and business leaders should take heed.

[Simon Hodge · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book should be a must read in every school

[Barry · Rating 3 out of 5]

I'd been really looking forward to this, having seen a fair bit of McGarvey on Twitter and on podcasts. It's fair to say that much of what he writes about mirrors a lot of my own thoughts on class and the state of the nation. In general terms I think his arguments in this book are strong, and the points he is trying to make are broadly correct but I think there is something in the execution, and also in the final analysis which turns this from a great book to a good one.

The central premise of this book is that the people who make decisions about working class lives are not working class, and due to a lack of proximity to working class lives are unable to make good decisions. Whilst there is an awful lot of anger in this book, I think McGarvey is charitable in his general approach that the problem is that the middle class and establishment class isn't that they are bad people, more that they don't understand. I think he is giving some absolute ghouls in the nation a free pass to be honest.

I've seen quite a lot of reviews which describe this as hard-hitting, as unflinching, as difficult. I didn't get that really, and I think I know why. I'm from a working-class background, although I am in a professional role now so I know exactly who he is talking about and the problems working class people and communities face. He's talking about people I know, my family, the people I grew up with. And I guess, this is the thing - I am not sure working class people are the audience for this. If you're working class much of this will be, 'well tell me something I don't know'. This book is for middle class people, particularly on the left, but not exclusively to say, 'this is the reality of working class lives and you need to see this to understand'.

The first half of the book are chapters portraying different elements of working class life and how class impacts outcomes. There are chapters on land, employment, housing, community, health outcomes, drug and alcohol, immigration and media depictions of working class people amongst others. McGarvey's premise is that, 'you people who don't know us, decide things about us'. I can see how these chapters can be an eye opener, and they should make people angry, and people with privilege should reflect on how their privilege can cause harm to others (this is something I reflect on personally often).

The chapters are strong, if little new. I guess a minor criticism is that I would like actual people's voices to be stronger in the chapters. In some respects they seem like a background to McGarvey's argument rather than the focus. I guess his writing style can be a bit of a challenge sometimes too, with some sentences being a little more overwrought than they need to which means the read isn't as snappy as it could be.

The second half of the book is a bit hit and miss really, and focuses on his analysis of the problems which impact proximity, and some of his solutions. Some of the chapters are superb, but some I was just scratching my head. The most glaring omission I guess, is that there are no chapters or analysis about how working class people could organise and develop strong communities independently of the middle class. It's clear McGarvey knows there are abundant strengths in working class culture and communities, and I know he will have a sense of pride in his culture, but it never really comes through strong.

The chapter on the Left felt a confused mess in some respects. He quite rightly critiques elements of the left for not speaking to and for working class concerns but it is like he is mirroring the (white) 'Red Wall' concerns of 'not being listened to and forgotten about'. He critiques the Left as a broad brush but it's clear he is talking about different elements whilst treating it all as a single entity. So I could read his thinly veiled critique of middle class media commentators like Owen Jones. I could read his criticism of Marxist-Leninists and their party above all perspective.

I could read his criticism of the 'social justice warrior online activist' and the assumed 'purity test of who is the most woke' and yet at the same time, whilst criticising class reductionism, he engages in it often. It was quite frustrating to interpret concerns over identity politics as being of less value than class because that kind of attitude is what leads to a 'class above all' perspective and throwing minorities under the bus (I get it - particularly with online activists taking their politics from America and telling white working class men in poverty and food and housing insecurity all about their privilege). His chapter on the Left would be so much better if he hadn't distilled all of it into generalisations.

What I did like about his chapter on the Left is how the left always assumes victimhood on behalf of the working class and minorities - that everything that happens to them is systemic and how personal responsibility is never factored in. It's an open goal to the right wing, and to be fair most working class people too. McGarvey is pulling on his experience of addiction, of writing and other stuff he has done - yes we are all responsible for our lives, and responsible for the shit we do or do not. That doesn't dismiss the system factors that make some things harder or easier for us.

Similarly, his chapter on populism and the Brexit vote leaves a lot to be desired. It's an oft-repeated mantra that the working class voted for Brexit due to 'not being listened to'. It's a free pass to why people voted the way they did. Immigration was the primary reason for Leave voters - not anything else really. Likewise, whilst more working class people voted Leave than Remain, what is missing from this analysis was that the working class vote was heavily skewed towards older and retired people and particular home owners in the working class - i.e. people with a working class background. What's missing in the analysis is that in the cities (where working class people live), amongst the youth (who are disproportionately poorer) and amongst minorities (who skew working class) they all voted Remain more heavily. It's really lazy analysis to say 'poor people weren't listened to and voted Leave'. It's the argument of the Right wing, even though I could buy into the incredulity he shared at Remain voters and the sense it was the first time they didn't get their way.

I kind of always get uneasy when groups of people take shifts to the right and it is written off as Populism and the middle classes fault. It's the middle classes who vote in right wing governments and support their policies too.

I did love his chapter on New Labour and there were some very interesting insights. What I did find uncomfortable (particularly because it is an area which I want to support and know a few people in) is the 'professionalism of working class support' and how the managerial class through think tanks, third sectors and charities are all having careers supporting the 'disadvantaged'. I agree with his assessment, and it's not lost on me that I am far more likely to get involved here as a working class person who has learnt the language, rather than when I was living in poverty. Indeed, I often join groups of similar people and they are committed to making a difference and good people BUT I can't help think they are predominantly middle class, white and professional. I always feel uneasy in these spaces, and these are the good guys working with communities who need help. If I do, what about the people they support?

His final analysis of what we do next ranges from the realistic to the never going to happen, but they are concerns I share, particularly around education, politics and the workplace. He's essentially calling for the advantages of private education to be abolished (strong agree) and worker representation in boardrooms and a second chamber of experts and normal people replacing the House of Lords - essentially a democratisation of our structures.

His closing remarks made me smile, because he reflects on his own life and having a few quid and his leaving his class. After reading a few hundred pages pouring vitriol on the middle classes and their thinking, there were a lot of places in the book where I felt uncomfortable because he was on the nose. I smile, because he's open about the circles he moves in. He's more cash, more privilege and far more middle class than me know with his media connections so in every page where he's railing about the middle class he's clearly reflecting on himself too. I strongly admire his honesty and his awareness of his culture and background and who he is now. It's sad, because I sense he is like a lot of working class people who have moved up - I know I will never fit in with middle class people, but I know I am different from the man I grew up as.

A good book, with solid arguments. For some this will leave you angry and be a call to reflect and change. Sadly, it's probably not the book for me, but I hope it gets a large audience with those who need to read it.

[books4chess · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Nothing can exist without an environment to support it. Sheer celestial chance placed us just the right distance from the sun, in what is often referred to as the Goldilocks zone. The Earth’s proximity from a flaming ball of gas is what makes our existence, our ives and our perceived achievements and failures possible - yet we’re supposed to believe Boris Johnson is the prime minister because he is the best person for the job."

The social distance between us is an enthralling recount of how British society has developed into no longer serving the people within it, from the loss of community to the icing out of anyone with different opinions - a habit unwittingly adopted by many who gain a seat at the table by proxy of not wishing to lose the space they’ve fought so hard to gain, in conjunction with a newfound consideration of these once motivating views as now ‘naive’ or ‘idealistic’. Additionally, McGarvey hits the nail on the head around the theme of class-war which permeates British life covertly, explaining that as someone who once campaigned almost religiously to address this, “it’s trickier to touch the topic of class when you’ve made a few quid”.
As someone who politically leans central, I had a great appreciation in McGarvey’s recognition that the radical left has cause just as much damage as the radical right. There is no true place for radicalism in a homogenous society, and despite his own evident left-leaning stances which inform the majority of his writing, the self-awareness does a lot to avoid alienation of readers with different political leanings. Honestly, it’s also the first book I’ve personally seen that calls out the damage I remember so clearly from the last general election and raises the question around how we are so willing to accuse anyone of differing opinions of ‘hating’, without consideration of their alternative opinions.
“When you become so immersed in a they and have little contact with the wider population, you come to perceive natural scepticism and disagreement as the enemy - not an opportunity to refine ideas and develop new strategies”.


That said, there’s a lot of blame and finger pointing aimed at the reader, holding individuals accountable for structural imbalances which they have no control over. Where much of the book leans onto policies and shifts over time that go against the majority, it would not have been possible for the collective to prevent those changes then, nor so easily now. A common theme in modern day musings around society often identify a group of people as the villains, as opposed to focusing on the change in circumstances out of their control - a factor McGarvey touches on when he highlights how “New Labour is famed for essentially preserving Thatcher’s legacy and she herself cited them repeatedly as her greatest political achievement”. In a system that effectively has one party, the blame game benefits no one.

“The Welfare State [has become] an ideology where citizens become assets and liabilities in public services which are run like cash-and-carries - except, where the poor are concerned, the customer is never right”.

The book makes you think and presents a lot of interesting information. I didn’t agree with all of it, but that made it just as worthwhile a read.

Thank you NetGalley for the Arc.

[Daniel Clemence · Rating 3 out of 5]

The book is about the gap between the elites in power and the poorest people in society. Darren McGarvey makes the argument that the rich have created a distance between them and the rest of society. He looks over drug addiction and homelessness as the various issues caused by the vast levels of inequality created over the last years and blames the issues that have inflicted the poor on the deindustrialisation of Britain. Britain in his view is still deeply entrenched by class interests. He concludes the book by looking at what each ideology gets wrong, including populism, centrism, leftism and conservatism whilst providing a political framework for improving society.

What I think Darren McGarvey gets right is his views on Left wing politics. Darren criticises the Left as being interested more in theory than in actual activism and by being unconnected to the lives of the poorest in society. His overview of society is also sobering. The United Kingdom has vast amounts of poverty and this is laid bare by Darren McGarvey.

However, despite its strengths, I gave this book a three star review. Firstly, the book is poorly referenced. McGarvey did not have a strong bibliography or referencing that leaves his book looking not as well researched as it could have been. He would probably reply that I would be an elitist for saying a book requires a strong set of references. To which I respond, all research should have references and to not provide them is a poor excuse. You have a right to disagree with me.

The second and stronger criticism of the book is I found his views on social class to be a frustrating anachronism of the past. He mentions the " working class" as a buzzword that is used by politicians of the Left and Right. He also compares it to the middle class who he views as better off. Except, these class characterisations are dated. He occasionally pluralises the term working class which I think is the correct term. The working class is dead, broken up into individual pieces. Skilled tradesmen thought as the "white van man" is farcry from the precariat that exists through much of the post-industrial North and Scotland. Indeed, much of the skilled working classes are better off today than middle classes.

His relative antagonism for "middle classes" I also think is dated. He seems to think a university degree and a proper accent guarantee a good job. Yet 45% of graduates have jobs that do not require degrees, in part because the economy doesn't produce skilled jobs enough outside cities. A London professional renting is worse off than many so called working class people. Real class divides now exist between property owners versus renters.

Another problem was his dismissive attitude of Brexit. He suggests that Remainers had a dismissive attitude of the poorer areas that voted for Brexit and that Brexit voters thought that life couldn't get much worse and so voted Leave to spite London. Except, London has got better off since leaving the EU, albeit at a slower rate than before Brexit. Meanwhile, British manufacturing, much of which are in Brexit voting areas, has declined further from leaving the EU. So, no things can always get worse.

Overall, a book that gives a reasonably good overview of class division in the UK.

[Aparna]

DNF. Look, I'm sure that lots of research and work went into writing this, and it truly shows. But this book is so un-readable. It reads like a PhD thesis that's gone over the wordcount. It wasn't at all engaging.

For me, the true test of a good non fiction book on any subject is, "can any adult pick it up and read it?", and this was just a no from me. This wasn't accessible, it wasn't engaging, and overall just impossible to get through. You don't need to waffle on this much to get your point across. I found myself skimming large chunks of text to try to get the gist of what the author was saying, and I knew it was time to stop reading.

Just take a look at this excerpt:

"You might think that a cynical analogy but such a view may be rooted in your favourable experience of the economy. That the economy we have represents the apex of what is economically possible. Of course a toxic by-product of structural inequality is the great disagreement between different sections of society about the nature of Britain's economic system."

What the fuck does that mean? This book is littered with paragraphs like the one above. It's so unnecessary. If you strip back these rant-y paragraphs, you might end up with a concise, readable book.

I also felt like the author tried to tackle a lot in one book. The author attempts to write about the working class, landlords, homelessness, immigration, addiction, health, welfare reform, the right and left wing parties... No wonder this book was so dense. I totally understand that these are all challenging issues that Britain faces at the moment, but it's way too much to get through, (in a meaningful way), in just one 300-something page book.

I was quite looking forward to reading the content of this book, but it was the style and language that made me put it down. I urge the author to consult George Orwell's six rules for writing.

[Pippa Catterall · Rating 5 out of 5]

The social distance McGarvey refers to takes various forms. It’s the ignorance among politicians and the commentariat about the lived experience of the poor and marginalised. It’s the assumptions that get in the way of understanding. It’s the ingrained habit of pontificating from a great height about the limited opportunities so many people have. Not least, it’s the barriers that ensure just a few lucky ones slip through, perhaps enough to fool the public that the structural inequalities hidden in plain sight throughout British society are largely surmountable or even nonexistent. This book should disabuse any such fond illusions. It deals trenchantly with the follies of the criminal justice ‘system’, housing policy, welfare and healthcare and so on. Throughout it persuasively points to the continuing relevance of class as a factor in inequality and in shaping the remoteness of so much of the public sector. A welter of evidence is amassed to demonstrate the structural nature of deprivation and poverty and all the consequences which flow therefrom. Although only published in 2022, already the politics section can be seen as out of date in face of the shifts on the populist Right subsequently. Nor does there seem much hope of the Starmer government adopting the policies McGarvey advocates to start tackling the manifold issues set out in this book. Maybe he needs to do a second edition!

[Joe O'Donnell · Rating 3 out of 5]

There’s a quote from Warren Buffett – the billionaire financial investor – that acts as a pretty good summation of this book: “There's class warfare, all right, but it's my class, the rich class, that's making war, and we're winning”. For Darren McGarvey’s ‘The Social Distance Between Us’ is fixated on the real ‘C-word’ that has riven British society – that of Class.

McGarvey argues (quite convincingly, it must be said) that it is impossible to unravel the inexhaustible divisions and crises of 21st-Century Britain without first addressing Social Class. These ills are borne out of ‘the problem of proximity’, particularly the lack of proximity of the economic elites and progressive middle classes to persistent poverty.

As he examines “the distance between the powerful and the powerless, between the affluent and the poor”, Darren McGarvey through controlled fury excoriates the hypocrisies of Britain’s elites and their attitudes towards their country’s working classes – whether those elites’ power might be based in the Tory Right, Labour Left, mushy Centre, or in Populist Nationalism.

[Paul · Rating 1 out of 5]

The language is so verbose it's tedious. Saying a lot of words doesn't mean you're saying a lot. It's just wasting ink and my time. This maybe works in drill rap that the author claims to do but not in a book. Nothing of value is communicated other than: isn't being poor and criminal bad? That's probably the only thing I can agree on with the author.

Author believes that poor people are some separate breed who cannot succeed without their betters giving them a helping hand, the patronising self-righteous git. There is nothing more infuriating than someone telling you about your false consciousness because you're not communist enough for the author.

[Steph · Rating 5 out of 5]

Stunningly insightful. Darren McGarvey is absolutely the most important voice of our times, the perfect antidote to career politicians and media manipulation. It’s rare now that I highlight much as I read - this book is one of those rare texts that I wanted to highlight so much that it was becoming ridiculous. It’s all articulated brilliantly and there is a section on language and how it limits us that I just absolutely loved. Can’t wait for his next text. I bought this on audio and written which again is something I do not do often for books now. Genius!

[Jen Mann]

I feel torn about how many stars to give this. The information and knowledge is so important however for me it’s difficult to digest content like this in book form and took me a long time to get through. I dipped in and out and listened to the audio book but I know if I was reading the physical book I would have really struggled. It appeared very well researched and the writing voice of the author was great. I feel like this information is better for me in podcast (hence why the audiobook was better) or documentary form.

[Sydne · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is upsetting and so important at the same time. It seems everything is broken and rotten to the core, and I honestly don't know how it can be fixed. A different political system? A different approach to education? And how to achieve this, when the people in power have absolutely no interest in changing anything?
It leaves me questioning and thinking a lot, and I don't know where the answers are. But the questions are certainly all there in this book.

[Nigel · Rating 5 out of 5]

An absolutely amazing read. I’m not sure a book has made me feel so angry at the disadvantage working class people face day to day. Like I said about his first book, I feel this should be required reading for MPs. Thoroughly recommend.

[Giorgio]

It's impossible to review this book because Goodreads lists both "Poverty Safari" (2018) and "The Social Distance Between Us" as the same book! I don't know if material was reused but when I read the latter, there were definitely sections that were written after the COVID pandemic.
I guess someone would have to phone in with a Received Pronunciation accent to get this corrected.

[Mel Merola · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thought provoking, brilliant, educational, eye opening, uncomfortable for some but a must read for all.

[Mary · Rating 4 out of 5]

A challenging read, but really interesting

[Fiona Brichaut · Rating 4 out of 5]

Oh boy this is a hard book to stomach. But it should be essential reading on school curricula, not just in the UK but worldwide.

(Like that's ever going to happen.)

I really admire McGarvey for writing this book. For having the hope and determination to be able to take such a close, hard look at social inequality and still have the energy to plead for change.

The first section is a raw, moving and painful exposé of hardship, from poor housing and homelessness to addiction, mental health issues, prejudice and all the other myriad ways that the disadvantaged suffer.

Socioeconomic disparity is the root of most of the evil in the world, whether it comes from greed and the desire for power at all costs, or from fear and the desire to maintain the status quo. Most people bewail the fate of the poor but want 'someone else' to make it go away.

In this book McGarvey points the finger at politicians, the wealthy, the 'fortunate', etc. Even at the well-meaning Leftists. His chapter on the Radical Left is masterful. The 'moderate' and lefty middle class applaud the values of the radical Left but don't want their own provilege to disappear. As he argues, public debate produces little but hot air and "organised resistance is what has historically tipped the scales." The Left, he says, has largely squandered the opportunities presented by digital communication for organising mass resistance, and handled the media poorly, getting lost in what and whom the Left stands for and "descending deeper into philosophical or theoretical rabbit holes".

Referring to media mishandling, he accuses the Left of"impulsively crisis-hop[ping] from one calamity to the next, in an attempt to weave together a coherent anti-capitalist narrative."

Ouch.

"The Left no longer defines itself but is defined by its opponents and detractors. [...] it is now ... both irrelevant and ubiquitous, useless and menacing, full of snowflakes..." He describes this as a hideous fiction that has gone viral because it felt right, not because it was true.

The very firmness of a Leftist's ideology makes them an 'idealogical battletank,' "bound by the strictures (and vanity) of the idealogical overseer," without the agility to compete with the "conservative's ability to change course at a moment's notice or a centrist's brass neck to do the same but make it appear less of a compromise."

He goes on to praise the people working on the ground for change, and who succeed in achieving important improvements. Unfortunately, these activists are not the people active and visible in the media or in higher political roles.

He is particularly scathing talking about policing of language around identity politics, explaining (better than I am doing here) how by focusing on pointing fingers at whoever is using the 'wrong' language -- relying on "passive aggression, language and speech policing, punitive shame cultures and smears", rather than actually entering the arena and contending with nationalist populism and identity politics -- the Left handed a blank cheque to right-wing agitators to dominate the discourse.

He pulls it all back to class, asserting that the left should focus firmly on social class, which compounds all the ills suffered by women and minority groups. All-inclusive social equality should be what the Left stands for.

McGarvey is self-aware. "It's far trickier to touch the topic of class when you've made a few quid," he says, Becoming wealthier has made his life immeasurably easier, although these days he tries to stay close to his working class roots; his personal trainer and his cleaner are working class, ha!

It's more scary to fight against oppression and all the trappings of social distance when we are afraid of losing what we have been given or what' we've earned by our own hard work. Our "incorruptible principles" develop a "sudden and convenient elasticity" at some point. Affluence pampers you.

In the final chapter, McGarvey lays out solutions. They are interesting, but when viewed from a [continental] European perspective, he's really only describing what we already have here, to a greater or lesser extent (more equitable access to education, stronger unions, and a range of other benefits more developed in European socialist economies...). But Europe isn't in great shape either, with increasing disparities between the wealthy and the poor, and rising national populism. To be honest I think the world is f*cked. We should ALL be out in the street being anarchists, to bring the system to its knees and build anew. The only way out is revolution, not evolution. Unfortunately, I'm really scared of revolution....