It’s an uncomfortable truth that in the UK, white working class men and boys are struggling
For some people, even saying that out loud feels risky. It can be misunderstood as denying other forms of inequality or starting a culture war about who has it worst. But if we are going to speak honestly about men’s lives, we have to name what is happening with care and clarity.
Many white working class boys and men are growing up in communities shaped by job losses, low wages, unstable housing, weakened public services and a loss of local belonging. They are often told they hold power because they are male and white, yet many do not feel powerful at all. They feel left behind, looked down on and unsure where they fit.
When people are told they should feel privileged but their lived reality feels insecure, humiliating or hopeless, resentment can grow. If we do not make space to talk about that honestly, others will. Too often, that space is filled by the manosphere, online grifters and political movements that offer boys and men simple enemies instead of real understanding.
The old script has fallen apart
For generations, many working class boys inherited a clear story about manhood; work hard and you’ll get a decent job. Then you can support yourself or a family which means you’ll be respected and have a place in your community.
That story was never perfect. It often came with rigid ideas about masculinity and power. But it did offer at the very least a sense of belonging.
As industries disappeared, wages stagnated, housing became less affordable and community spaces declined, that old script began to collapse. The mines closed. Manufacturing shrank. Stable local work became harder to find. Youth services, pubs, clubs and shared spaces were lost or priced out.
What replaced them was a harsher message brought on through neoliberal economics – you are on your own.
If you succeed, you earned it. If you fail, that is your fault.
For boys raised with the idea that men should be providers, protectors and self-reliant achievers, that message cuts deep. When the markers of masculine success become harder to reach, many do not simply think life is hard. They think they have failed as men.
Loss, nostalgia and simple answers
In our No Man’s an Island podcast conversation, critical theorist Louisa Toxvaerd Munch spoke about nostalgia as a response to loss. People often look back when they cannot see a future.
That helps explain the appeal of voices that promise a return to strength, order and respect. The manosphere tells boys and men that something has been taken from them. It then points the blame at women, feminism, immigrants or anyone else who can be made into a target.
These messages are powerful because they speak to real pain, even if they offer false answers.
A boy who feels humiliated at school, disconnected from his father, unsure about work and ashamed of his own vulnerability is not just looking for information. He is looking for meaning. He is looking for language. He is looking for somewhere to put his anger.
If healthy language is not available, unhealthy language will do.
The disappearance of male community
Working class men once had more informal places to gather, talk and make sense of life together – clubs, pubs, terraces, unions, workplaces and neighbourhood spaces. Those places were not perfect, but they gave many men routine contact, shared identity and a sense of belonging.
Many of those spaces have weakened. In their place, men spend more time online, isolated and consuming content alone.
This matters because loneliness is not just being physically alone. It is feeling unable to connect with other people or the world around you. That kind of loneliness creates risk. A lonely boy will often look for belonging wherever it is offered. Sometimes that is healthy. Sometimes it is a radical online space that tells him his pain is proof he has been betrayed.
The internet is full of men monetising that pain.
Why school matters
White working class boys have been struggling within the education system for years, yet the conversation often treats this as a technical problem rather than an emotional one.
If a boy is disengaged, it is easy to call him lazy, disruptive or immature. But underneath there may be low confidence, family stress, poverty, shame, lack of role models and a belief that education is not for people like him.
Some boys also absorb a version of masculinity that says effort is embarrassing, reading is soft and asking for help is weak. School then becomes not a place of possibility but a stage for performing toughness.
Boys need more than discipline and data tracking. They need adults who understand the emotional world beneath the behaviour. They need language for their inner lives. They need hope.
It is hard to engage with learning if you cannot imagine a future worth preparing for.
The emotional cost of class shame
Class is not only economic. It is emotional.
Many white working class boys grow up sensitive to being judged for their accent, clothes, postcode, parents, school or way of speaking. They notice when they are patronised. They notice when they are treated as a problem.
That shame often gets covered with bravado, cynicism or anger. But underneath it can be a deep sense of inferiority.
Therapy can be difficult for men who experience it as a middle class space full of language they were never taught and assumptions they do not share. That does not mean therapy cannot help. It means therapy has to meet men where they are.
Anger makes sense
Anger is often treated as the problem. But anger can be information. It tells us something hurts. It tells us something has been lost.
For many boys and men, anger is one of the few emotions that feels permitted. Sadness feels humiliating. Fear feels weak. Vulnerability feels dangerous. Anger, at least, feels active.
The issue is not that anger exists. The issue is where it goes.
Without support, anger can turn inward through depression, self-destruction and suicide. Or it can turn outward through misogyny, racism, homophobia and violence. What boys and men need is not shame, but help to ask better questions. What is this anger really about? What pain sits beneath it? What has been lost? What needs to change?
We need compassion and accountability
Talking about white working class boys does not mean ignoring anyone else. We can take seriously the struggles of women, girls, racialised communities, queer people and trans people, while also saying that many white working class boys are struggling and deserve support.
If boys and men are only ever talked about as a problem, they will look elsewhere for recognition. Some will withdraw. Some will harden. Some will numb out. Some will be drawn towards people who weaponise their pain.
We need better alternatives.
Chris Hemmings is a therapist & coach who specialises in working with men. You can find him on Men’s Therapy Hub here
