Class and masculinity are connected – when industry changes, so does what it means to ‘be a man’

On July 3, I’ll be discussing Youth, Masculinity and the Political Divide at an event with The Conversation and Cumberland Lodge at Newcastle University (get your tickets here).

Young people involved in the panel have brought up class and the decline of industry as topics for discussion. This is particularly fitting, given my ongoing PhD research exploring masculinity and the contemporary lives of working-class men in Tyneside.

Tyneside is an area in north-east England which was once a major centre of Britain’s Industrial Revolution. Its coal mining, shipbuilding and heavy engineering industries were seen as the backbone of the region, upheld by a large industrial skilled working class.

As with many northern towns, widespread deindustrialisation, predominantly around the 1970s and 1980s, dramatically changed the area. At its peak, Swan Hunter – a globally recognised shipyard and significant employer in Wallsend (North Tyneside) and the surrounding area – employed up to 12,000 people. By 2005, the year before its closure, only 357 direct workers were employed.

The process of deindustrialisation affected not just the type of work that was done, but how men in the region saw themselves. As I am currently researching, the effects of this ring true today.

Boys and girls are together facing an uncertain world. But research shows they are diverging when it comes to attitudes about masculinity, feminism and gender equality.

Social media, politics, and identity all play a role. But what’s really going on with boys and girls? Join The Conversation UK and Cumberland Lodge’s Youth and Democracy project at Newcastle University for a discussion of these issues with young people and academic experts. Tickets available here.

Like other regions in Britain, Tyneside shifted from mostly masculine manual labour to a largely “feminised” service sector. Informal work, subcontracting and part-time work proliferated while rates of trade unionism declined.

Changes in industry and understandings of social class have a surprising amount to do with how we think about masculinity. Paul Willis’ 1977 seminal study Learning to Labour explores how the links between social class and masculinity are forged early in life.

Our ideas about masculinity are produced, reinforced and upheld through institutions such as schools, the workplace and media. There is no singular “form” of masculinity – men perform it in many different ways. There is, however, hegemonic masculinity. This is the most dominant form of masculinity in a society at any given time, valued above other forms of gender identities that do not match up to the dominant ideal.

“Traditional” views of masculinity were particularly prevalent during the height of industry in the area. These views centred around ideas of men as providers and ideas of toughness. Value was placed on a willingness (or need) to do physical and often hazardous labour.

The demise of “masculine” labour in areas such as Tyneside disrupted not only economic stability but also male identity and pride. As broader socioeconomic shifts unfolded across England, many working class men found themselves outside of those traditional masculine ideals around labour.

This has been well documented, particularly in ethnographic work such as Anoop Nayak’s 2006 study Displaced Masculinities. This key text explored how working-class boys navigate “what it is to be a ‘man’ beyond the world of industrial paid employment”.

Class and identity in a changing world

Early findings from my research suggest that today, class (and working-class identity) is not as salient in mens’ everyday lives. Participants in my study have spoken about class, but it does not overtly feature in how they make sense of their identities. As one man put it: “Class means you have to use yourself to earn money. Your labour, that’s what I understand by it, but I’ve never thought about class much.”

What happens to men when an area’s strong working-class identity declines, but there is no narrative to replace it? There is a risk that harmful ideas about masculinity step in to fill a gap left by declining industry and continued economic inequality. We have seen this in extensive research in the US about masculinity, class and the appeal of the far right.

This is why class must be part of the discussion around the rise of the “manosphere” – online communities and influencers sharing content about masculinity that can veer into misogyny. Class politics also presents a positive and unifying alternative.

It is imperative that working-class areas and the people within them aren’t portrayed as somehow inherently susceptible to, or represented by, the narratives of the manosphere. Indeed, the men I have spoken to have not been particularly pulled in by the manosphere. However they do recognise the feeling of being overlooked and not measuring up to idealised “standards” about masculinity.

The “manosphere” preys on this, tapping into boys’ and young men’s fears around masculinity and their (perceived) social status. Narrow portrayals of what success looks like puts immense pressure on young people to live up to unattainable standards.

As I have written before, mansophere content often relies on messages around hyper-individualism that ignore the broader effects of class, the economy and political views.

Manosphere messaging that “most men are invisible” and that the system is now “rigged against men” fits neatly with young boys’ and men’s anxieties about not having the same place or opportunities in society that previous generations of men might have had.

Without honest discussion about working-class communities and the effects of deindustrialisation on identity, this messaging may become alluring in postindustrial towns.

Sophie Lively receives funding from the Economic and Social Research Council as part of the Northern Ireland and North East Doctoral Training Partnership.