Month / Jul 2026

by doctormcgrail

What Do We Mean by “Class”? One of Sociology’s Most Misunderstood Concepts

When people talk about social class, they often assume everyone knows what the term means. We hear references to the “working class”, “middle class”, and “upper class” in politics, the media, and everyday conversation. Yet the closer we examine the concept, the more complex it becomes. Social class is not a single concept. It is a collection of different ways of understanding social relationships, inequality, identity, and power.

One of the most striking features of discussions about class is how often different meanings are mixed together. Someone may use class to describe a person’s income, while another uses it to refer to cultural tastes, political beliefs, or social status. Sociologists have developed a range of (often contradictory) approaches to understanding class, each highlighting different aspects of social life.

This blog explores three major ways class has been understood: as a group, as a social division, and as a vision of future social development. Along the way, I will also consider the work of influential thinkers such as Karl Marx, Max Weber, Zygmunt Bauman, and Pierre Bourdieu.

The Everyday Meaning of Class

Outside sociology, people usually think of class as a hierarchy. Individuals are imagined as occupying positions somewhere on a social ladder: upper class, middle class, or working class. These categories often reflect occupation, income, education, lifestyle, and social status.

British culture has long reflected this way of thinking. Comedy sketches, newspaper cartoons, and political debates frequently portray society as a collection of different social layers. The humour often comes from exposing how arbitrary these distinctions can be. Why should someone’s accent, clothing, or preferred drink tell us anything important about their worth as a person? Yet such markers continue to shape how people are judged and categorised.  

This conventional understanding treats class as a series of social groups. The central question becomes: “Which group do I/you belong to?” Sociological research often builds on this assumption by creating class categories based on occupation, income, or educational attainment.

However, this is only one way of thinking about class.

Marx and the Idea of Class as Division

Karl Marx approached class from a very different direction. Rather than beginning with social categories, he began with social relationships. For Marx, classes emerge from the way people participate in material practices (‘economic’ processes), especially production and exploitation.  

In the opening pages of The Communist Manifesto, class struggle appears before any specific classes are named (see Gunn, 1987). This ordering is significant. Conflict comes first. Classes emerge from the social divisions created by that conflict.

Marx’s famous examples include master and slave, lord and serf, and capitalist and worker. What matters is not a person’s identity, tastes, or cultural preferences but their relationship to the production process. Do they control or own productive resources? Do they command or employ others? Or do they survive only by following instruction or selling their labour?

This perspective challenges many popular assumptions about class. Someone may identify as middle class, enjoy a comfortable lifestyle, and possess a university degree. Yet if they still depend upon employment for their income, Marx’s analysis would classify them as a wage labourer (open to exploitation as a commodified product). Their subjective identity does not alter their objective position within the economic system.

Marx was particularly interested in exploitation. His discussion of child labour in nineteenth-century industries highlights how economic systems can compel individuals into deeply unequal relationships. Such examples remind us that class is not merely about status or lifestyle. It also concerns power, ownership, and the distribution of social resources.

Class as Identity and Group Membership

While Marx focused on social divisions, others devoted greater attention to group identities and status differences.

Max Weber argued that people compete not only for economic resources but also for social honour and recognition. Groups seek to distinguish themselves from others using a variety of markers, including education, lifestyle, profession, ethnicity, and cultural practices.  

From this perspective, class becomes partly a matter of social or market positioning. People attempt to improve their standing while simultaneously preserving distinctions between themselves and those below them. Elites may use exclusive institutions, qualifications, or networks to protect their status. At the same time, less advantaged groups often develop their own forms of identity and solidarity.  

This approach helps explain why class remains socially meaningful even when economic differences appear less obvious. People continue to sort themselves and others into categories. According to Veblen, they use consumer or consumption signals (such as speech, dress, leisure activities, and educational background) to make assumptions about social position.

Class, therefore, is not simply something we possess. It is also something we perform, negotiate, and contest.

Class as a Vision of Society

A less familiar interpretation treats class as an entire system of social organisation.

In some strands of Marxology, a term such as “capitalist class” does not merely refer to wealthy individuals. It refers to a whole mode of production and the assumptions that sustain it. In this sense, class becomes a way of organising society itself.  

This opens up a broader question: can society be organised differently?

The concept of class consciousness reflects awareness that existing arrangements are neither natural nor permanent. Every social system emerged historically and could, in principle, be replaced by another. Capitalism replaced older forms of social organisation, and alternative arrangements have been proposed throughout modern history.  

Viewing class in this way moves discussion beyond questions of personal identity. Instead, attention shifts towards competing visions of how social life should be organised. Class becomes a debate about collective futures rather than simply individual positions.

The Rise of Consumer Society

However, some sociologists have claimed that the meaning of class has changed significantly in contemporary societies.

Zygmunt Bauman (in line with Veblen) suggested that modern life is increasingly shaped by consumption rather than production. Instead of defining people primarily through the organisation of production (their occupations), consumer society tends to define them through what they can buy and display: an approach which presumes the permanency of commodity exchange.

Bauman distinguished between “the seduced” and “the repressed.” The seduced are those who can actively participate in consumer culture through stable income and access to credit. The repressed are excluded or marginalised, often because they lack sufficient resources or face insecure employment.

This argument highlights how class distinctions remain visible even when traditional industrial (working) identities weaken. Expensive homes, fashionable clothing, luxury goods, and lifestyle choices continue to function as indicators of social position. The form of presentation may have changed, but inequality remains highly visible.  Unfortunately for Bauman and other ‘consumerists’, the reasoning applied to such inequality still carries connotations of ‘the work ethic’.

Bourdieu and the Power of Capitals

Beyond Bauman, perhaps the most influential contemporary account of class comes from Pierre Bourdieu.

Bourdieu argued that inequality involves more than money. He identified several forms of capital that help individuals navigate society. Financial capital remains important, but so do social capital, cultural capital, and symbolic capital.  

Social capital refers to networks, relationships, and useful contacts. Cultural capital includes knowledge, skills, educational credentials, and familiarity with valued cultural practices. Symbolic capital encompasses prestige, reputation, qualifications, titles, and recognised status.  

According to Bourdieu, these resources are transferred across generations. Families pass on not only wealth but also habits, tastes, expectations, and social connections. As a result, class inequalities often reproduce themselves even when opportunities appear formally open to all.

Central to this theory is the concept of habitus. Habitus refers to the dispositions and tendencies people develop through their experiences. Our preferences for food, music, language, education, and leisure activities are shaped by the environments in which we grow up. These preferences often feel natural and personal, yet they reflect wider social influences.

This perspective helps explain why class differences persist in subtle ways. Inequality is not reproduced solely through income. It is also reproduced through everyday practices and cultural expectations.  Though, like Bauman, Bourdieu is “bourgeois” (Marx) in assuming the permanency of commodity exchange as a mode of production. Bourdieu also tends to see ‘capital’ as a possession (held in the form of skill, knowledge, finance, or social connections) rather than as a relationship and process (one person only ‘has’ skill in relation to another).

Why Class Still Matters

Despite decades of debate over whether class is declining in importance, it remains central to understanding modern societies. Income, wealth, educational opportunities, cultural resources, and social networks continue to be distributed unevenly. These inequalities affect life chances, health outcomes, housing options, political participation, and access to opportunity.  

Yet the concept of class itself remains contested. Is it primarily a group identity? A social division? A system of exploitation? A cultural habitus? Or a vision of alternative forms of society?

The answer may be all of the above.

The sociology student’s challenge is to recognise that “class” is not one idea or conceptualisation but many. Different sociological traditions focus on different dimensions of social reality. Understanding class therefore requires us to move beyond simplistic labels and engage with the complexity of how power, identity, resources, and social relationships interact.  

Class is not merely a category we belong to. It is a way of understanding the structures, conflicts, cultures, and possibilities that shape social life, but additionally a cultural and social practice we are part of and actively reproduce.

[1,545 words]

References

Gunn, R. (1987) ‘Notes on Class’, in Common Sense, Issue No.2.  Edinburgh: Common Sense Collective / Edinburgh Conference of Socialist Economists.

Links:

This is a shortened (blog style) article of a 6,000-word essay with the same argument (fully referenced with direct quotations).  This longer version can be found at:

McGrail, B. A. (2024) Class Cultures: What is meant by ‘Class’? [PDF] (12 pages / 24 minute read). Available at: Class Cultures: What is meant by ‘Class’

You can also listen to a ‘podcast’ recording (produced by AI) at the top of this longer version – I see this as a ‘bit of fun’ (and an interesting ‘perspective’ on my article).

by doctormcgrail

Utopia Lost in Language: Rethinking the Politics of Possibility

What if utopia isn’t a perfect place—but a way of thinking and acting, in common?

For many people, the word “utopia” conjures images of unrealistic fantasies, naïve idealism, or even dangerous political experiments gone wrong. In everyday conversation, it often means something impossible: a dream that can’t be realised. But this understanding is deeply misleading—and more importantly, it limits our political imagination at a time when we need it most.

Rather than being a fixed blueprint for a perfect society, utopia can be understood as a political technique and a shared language for exploring social possibilities. Utopia is not simply a destination; it is an activity. It lives in how we imagine, question, critique, and attempt to transform the world around us.

Utopia as Practice, Not Blueprint

The problem begins when utopia is reduced to a picture: a finished model of “the good society.” These static visions—whether architectural masterplans or literary dream worlds—tend to close down discussion rather than open it up. They present a completed answer rather than an ongoing process.

But utopia, at its most powerful, is something else entirely. It is what happens when people begin to ask: what could be different? It is the act of imagining alternatives and bringing those imaginings into public conversation. In that sense, utopia is always grounded in the present. It is something we do, not something that is only dreamt about. Crucially, utopia does not fail because people imagine too much, as anti-utopians (like Gray, 2007) claim. It fails when imagination is suppressed—when social conditions discourage some people from thinking beyond what already exists. The real danger is not utopian dreaming, but absence of it.

The Problem with How We Talk About Utopia

Part of the difficulty lies in language. We often talk about utopia in ways that create confusion or shut down debate. For instance, utopia is frequently treated as synonymous with a “perfect world.” This conflation ignores the richness of utopian thinking and reduces it to a narrow ideal. Similarly, the common opposition between “utopia” (good) and “dystopia” (bad) oversimplifies matters. It suggests that utopian thinking is naïvely optimistic, while dystopian thinking is realistic or critical.

In reality, both are part of the same process. Dystopias are not anti-utopian—they are warnings, critiques, and provocations. They show us what could go wrong, often in order to spur us into action. Likewise, many so-called utopias contain elements that are troubling or exclusionary. Even the term “apocalypse” is misunderstood. Commonly associated with destruction, it simply means “revelation.” Apocalyptic thinking can reveal hidden truths about society and provoke transformative change. If we want better conversations about society and its future, we need a more flexible and inclusive language of utopia—one that reflects its diversity and its role as a tool for inquiry.

A Broader View: Utopia as an Umbrella Concept

Instead of treating utopia as a single idea, I consider it as an umbrella term covering many different kinds of imaginative activity. Under this umbrella, I include:

  • Eutopias: visions of better (‘good’) societies
  • Dystopias: warnings about impaired or failing worlds
  • Arcadias: nostalgic longings for a lost past
  • Apocalyptias: visions of transformation or revelation

Each of these expresses a different relationship to time—past, present, or future—but all are rooted in the present moment of imagination and action, in the Utopian thinker. This broader approach allows us to see utopian thinking everywhere: in political movements, philosophical arguments, cultural narratives, and everyday moral decisions.

The Utopian Imagination in Action

One of the most important aspects of utopian thinking is its connection to imagination. This is not just about fantasy; it is about the ability to place ourselves in different situations and perspectives.

Adam Smith (1759), for instance, argued that we make moral judgments through “indirect sympathy” (VII. iii. I. 3)—our capacity to imagine what it feels like to be someone else. This imaginative leap allows us to evaluate social arrangements, even those we have never experienced. To judge something like private property, we need the capacity to imagine a world where private property doesn’t exist. That “no place” (or not yet) is precisely where utopia operates: as a space of critical reflection. In this sense, utopia is not escapism. It is a method for understanding the present by imagining alternatives.

Is Dystopia Really So Bad?

If we rethink utopia in this broader sense, the boundary between utopia and dystopia starts to blur. Take dystopian fiction (a la Huxley and Orwell). These narratives often depict bleak or oppressive worlds—but they also rely on imagination, critique, and the possibility of change. In fact, dystopias can be powerful tools for political engagement, forcing us to confront uncomfortable truths and consider how things might be different (new possibilities).

Even the idea of a “perfect” society can be troubling (see Zamyatin’s [1924] We). A society that eliminates imagination or dissent in the name of stability risks becoming stagnant or oppressive. In this context, a flawed, changing world may be preferable to a static “perfect” one. This raises an important question: is it better to live in an imperfect world where change is possible, or a perfect one where nothing can ever change?

When Utopia Becomes Stagnation

A key danger arises when a utopian vision becomes fixed—what we might call an “autotopia,” a system that simply reproduces itself endlessly. In such a world, imagination is seen as a threat (as with Zamyatin’s OneState). Stability becomes the highest value, and any deviation must be suppressed. This can happen in political systems, economic structures, educational practices, or even cultural norms.

The irony is that a “perfect” system can become lifeless. Without the possibility of change, critique, or innovation, it loses the very qualities that make social life dynamic and meaningful. Human beings are not like machines that can simply repeat the same patterns indefinitely. We are imaginative, questioning, and creative—and any society that ignores this, risks becoming deeply alienating.

Utopia and Capitalism

Utopian thinking is not limited to radical or revolutionary ideas. It also operates within and reproduces existing systems, including capitalism. Karl Marx’s (1867) description of the capitalist marketplace (at the beginning of Capital), for example, can be read as a form of utopia: a world of perfect equality, where individuals freely exchange goods and “mutually recognise” (Chp2) each other’s rights. This “ideal” (abstracted) version of capitalism purposely strips away real historical social inequalities like slavery, xenophobia, racism, or sexism—it is a theoretical version of how capitalism could / should work.

Of course, Marx’s point was that even with this idealised scenario (a vision reformers strive for), exploitation persists (see Bonefeld, 2023). The system still depends on unequal outcomes, despite its language of fairness and equality. This demonstrates how utopian thinking can be used critically. By imagining a system in its purest form (not its contaminated reality), Marx exposes its contradictions and limitations.

At the same time, this exposition (process) highlights how defenders of capitalism rely on utopian ideas—promoting visions of innovation, growth, and progress. Utopia, then, is not owned by any one ideology. It is a shared tool, open to all. Utopia is a process we all take a ‘risk’ in promoting.

Why Utopia Matters Today

We live in a time when utopia is often dismissed as unrealistic or dangerous. But this dismissal has consequences. Without utopian thinking, we run the alternate risk of accepting the status quo as inevitable. We lose the ability to imagine alternatives, to critique existing systems, and to strive for something better. Thus, utopia, understood as a technique and a language, is essential for democratic life. It allows us to explore possibilities, challenge assumptions, and engage collectively in shaping the future. Importantly, this is not the task of a select few (e.g., the utopian ‘novelist’). Utopian thinking should not be confined to writers, philosophers, or political leaders. It should be communalised: open to everyone.

Reclaiming the Language of Possibility

In conclusion, if utopia has been “lost” it is not because the idea itself has failed. It is because our language around it has become restrictive and confused. To reclaim utopia, we need to broaden how we talk about it. There is a need to recognise its diversity, its flexibility, and its presence in everyday life.

Above all, we need to see utopia not as a distant dream, but as an ongoing practice—a way of engaging with the world and imagining how it could be different. Because the future is not something that simply happens to us. It is something we create. And utopia, in all its forms, is the language through which that creation begins.

References:

Bonefeld, W. (2023) A Critical Theory of Economic Compulsion: Wealth, Suffering, Negation London: Routledge.

Gray, J. (2007) Black Mass: Apocalyptic Religion and the Death of Utopia. London: Macmillan.

Marx, K. (1867) Capital: A Critique of Political Economy. Vol. 1. Pelican Library. [1976 edition; trans. Ben Fowkes]. Harmondsworth: Penguin.

Smith, A. (1759) Theory of Moral Sentiments. [2012 edition; edited by Knud Haakonssen]. Cambridge Texts in the Philosophy of History. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.

Zamyatin, E. (1924) We. [1993 edition; translated by Clarence Brown]. Harmondsworth: Penguin.

Links:

This is a shortened (blog style) article of a 6,000-word essay with the same argument (fully referenced with direct quotations).  This longer version can be found at:

McGrail, B. A. (2026) Utopia Lost (in Language): Rethinking Utopia and the Politics of Possibility [PDF] (14 pages / 28 minute read). Available at: Utopia Lost (In Language): Rethinking Utopia and the Politics of Possibility

Acknowledgments:

An earlier (2024) version of this blog (and essay) was written in response to (and participant / presenter in) the Arts & Humanities Research Council (ARHC) funded Workshop Series on Utopia and Failure, organised and led by Prof. Mathias Thaler (Edinburgh), Prof. Davina Cooper (KCL), and Dr Ruth Houghton (Newcastle). I received essential and supportive feedback from Mathias, Davina, and Ruth, to whom I would like to express my gratitude.  The usual disclaimers apply.