As I began to write this book, a fire took hold of Grenfell Tower, a 24-storey tower block containing social housing flats in Kensington, London. For years the residents had complained about health and safety issues and had even predicted the possibility of a fire. But they were ignored. The flats had recently been refurbished with cladding, supposedly to help with insulation and prevent damp, though some suggest its purpose was solely to improve the look of the building for the benefit of those living in the surrounding luxury properties. Whatever the reason, this very cladding proved to be the tinder for the fire so that it spread unusually rapidly. Evidence given to the subsequent, and currently ongoing, Grenfell Tower Inquiry (2018) indicated that cost-cutting on the refurbishment, and failing to install sprinklers and other safety features, was a significant factor underlying the ensuing tragedy. The local fire service had also seen drastic cuts and outsourcing to private companies possibly causing the reported lack of basic firefighting equipment at the scene of the fire (Booth 2018a, b). In response to this evidence, one of the members of the survivorsâ group, Grenfell United, said, âloved ones would be alive today if different decisions had been taken and if the people in charge had put safety firstâ (Ruiz 2018).
I believe there was an important factor underlying all of these mistakes and oversightsââclassismââthe majority of the residents of the block were working-class. The casual approach to their safety, the apparent undervaluing of their lives and the dismissal of their concerns could occur because the Grenfell residents did not have social and economic power. Grenfell made classism visible in the horrifying sight of working-class people being burnt alive. It is tragic and should never happen again. But, in terms of working-class lives lost and warnings ignored, it has happened againâand every day since. In the UK and around the world, working-class people are killed and injured through living and working in toxic and dangerous environments every day, largely invisibly, out of public sight and awareness. When they voice their complaints and concerns, they are ignored and sometimes insulted. Because these deaths and injuries in part result from insufficiently valuing working-class lives and concerns, I consider it to be âclassismâ and, because it is linked to environmental quality, I call it âenvironmental classismâ. Though sometimes less visible, direct or immediate than the classism evident at Grenfell, it can be just as lethal and devastating.
Environmental classism, while rarely articulated as a concept, is not a new story. As far back as 1845, Engels described widespread injuries and deaths among the working-class in England due to unsafe factory and housing conditions. He called these âsocial murderâ (Engels 1845, p. 26), meaning that they were deaths caused by society, rather than by individual intent. Even before then, in 1713, Bernardo Ramazzini wrote The Diseases of Workers, the first comprehensive presentation of occupational diseases maiming and killing the working-class in Italy. Ramazzini outlined the health hazards resulting from chemicals, dust and metals faced by workers in more than 50 occupations at that time. Working-class people, themselves, have often been at the forefront of raising awareness about these issues. For example, in 1924, in the US, young women and girls who were working at painting watch dials with a liquid containing radium and mesothorium raised concerns about occupational toxicity. They had been losing their teeth, becoming sick and disfigured and, eventually, dying from bone cancers. Their illnesses were dismissed as being due to a myriad of other causes, including poor dental hygiene, syphilis and even âhysteriaâ, until the condition was eventually diagnosed as âradium jawâ and as resulting from their work. The US Radium Corporation attempted to suppress this information. Eventually, five of the young women workers sued the company. One of them died during the trial but, finally, in 1928, the company were forced to pay compensation and the episode resulted in a change in policy, so that scientists, rather than manufacturers, came to determine the occupational hazards posed by radium dial painting (see Abrams 2001, for this and similar working-class environmental histories).
In all these cases, working-class voices had been ignored with tragic consequences. This book is an attempt to amplify their voices and honour their lives. It describes and illustrates âenvironmental classismâ in the UK and beyond for the purposes of understanding how to end it. âEnvironmental classismâ refers to policies or practices that impact less favourably on working-class individuals and groups with respect to the quality of their living, working and leisure environments. The book explains how working-class people tend to carry the environmental burdens for society; how they are sometimes negatively impacted by environmental policy and alienated by traditional forms of environmentalism; and how they have long been, and continue to be, environmentalists, even if they have not been recognised as such.
I came to an acknowledgement and understanding of environmental classism as a result of over 30 years of campaigning as an environmental activist and more than 10 years as an environmental justice researcher. Throughout this time, I have heard many stories about the harm that has been done to working-class people as a consequence of their toxic, unsafe and inadequate environments. When I was conducting the research for this book, I heard even more of these stories, sometimes recounted to me in quite a matter-of-fact way. For example, one of the women I spoke to, who lives in an area of high deprivation and near a number of waste facilities, said:
I really like it and I have a beautiful garden. I really love the place and I got a very beautiful view. I can see ⊠all the mountains if the sky is clear. But sometimes I think I may want to move because of the pollution in the area ⊠Thereâs quite a lot of pollution and I heard lots of people are ill with cancer . I am one of them, actually. (Ange)
I am writing this book to provide support and solidarity for those who are aware of these problems and to provoke questions and debate among those who currently are not. The book is not meant to be a comprehensive overview of the topic but rather a personal analysis and an invitation to further consideration.
Is Class Still Relevant?
The meaning and relevance of class is contentious. This book draws upon sociological theories of class which include socio-cultural distinctions, such as status, education, intergenerational advantages, and political and social capital which afford influence in the public sphere (see Chap. 2 for debates and definitions).
It has been alleged that class is no longer relevant because of the combined processes of deindustrialisation in the Western world and the rise of neoliberalism globally. Deindustrialisation led to a shift from traditional manual labour to clerical and service sector work, with an increase in management and professional roles and a widening of participation in higher education. At the same time, the rise of neoliberalism led to an increase in âflexibleâ employment, with job insecurity increasingly being the experience of all those in the workforce. As a result of these changes, some analysts went as far as to pronounce âThe Death of Classâ (Pakulski and Waters 1996). Others argued that class might still exist but, as a mega-theory, was of less relevance in the new social and economic landscape (e.g. Giddens 1991; Beck 1992; Baumann 2001). It is also commonly said that class is particularly peculiar to Britain or the UK.
The social distinction that is more often drawn is between âpoorâ and ânon-poorâ or âdeprivedâ and ânon-deprivedâ socio-economic groups. However, though there is a good deal of overlap, being working-class is not always synonymous with having a low income (Savage et al. 2013; Savage 2015). Some people may be excluded and disadvantaged as a result of social practices and cultural issues and not just material deprivation (see Chap. 2).
Until very recently social class was rarely discussed in relation to environmental issues or mentioned in mainstream environmental or sustainability reports and studies. Similarly, again until recently, working-class organisations, such as trade unions, had been largely ignored by environmental academics; as well as by the mainstream environmental movement and environmental policy makers (RĂ€thzel and Uzzell 2011, 2013). Some social policy analysts have written about environmental issues in relation to poverty (e.g. Fitzpatrick 2011, 2014a, b), but rarely with regard to class. In the academic fields of âenvironmental justiceâ, âclimate justiceâ and âenergy justiceâ and among associated activists, the focus has mainly been on race and/or low income, though there have been intermittent allegations of âclassismâ directed at the mainstream environmental movement (Sandler and Pezzullo 2007).
However, class is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. Several authors are now highlighting the extent and impact of inequality in our societies, for example, Danny Dorling (2015), Stephen Wilkinson and Kate Pickett (2009). Some have focused directly on âclassismâ as a social injustice (e.g. Jones 2011; McKenzie 2015; Hanley 2016; Isenberg 2016). Classism also became more visible following the UK Brexit vote in 2016 as noted, for example, in The Independent, which carried a headline stating: âClassist innuendo about educated Remain voters and the âwhite van menâ of Leave has revealed something very distasteful about Britainâ (Piercy in the Independent, 20th June 2016). As Chap. 2 describes, and the rest of this book illustrates, class is very much still w...