The Complex Question of Definition

Overview

Defining a working-class academic (WCA) is challenging for many reasons, not least in the context of Beck’s notion that class is a ‘zombie’ category, one that obscures more than it clarifies in the landscape of ‘second modernity’ (Beck, 2011, p. 29). In his previous work, Risk Society, Beck (1992) explored how risks such as environmental degradation, technological accidents, and financial crises have become central to the modern experience. Unlike traditional industrial risks that affected working class people, Beck argued that the consequences of these contemporary risks are no longer confined to particular social classes but have a universal impact, transcending traditional distinctions. In contrast, Atkinson (2017) maintained that class structures, conflicts, and struggles have endured in the 21st century. Skeggs (2004), aligning with this view, asserted that class is shaped by and is in the interests of those who wield power. As such, scholarship about the working-classes, by the working-classes, i.e. those with lived experience, is crucial because symbolic class violence frequently places working-class people at a disadvantaged position compared to the elite and middle classes (Leeb, 2004, p. 16). WCAs are a complex case study since, superficially at least, their advanced qualifications and professional incomes may set them apart from the stereotypical working class (Leeb, 2004). However, conversations with my WCA respondents revealed that it is more nuanced than that. Chapter Two focuses on the definition and representation of WCAs, before turning to a discussion on academic precarity.

Perspectives on Working-Class Academics

Over a period of 40 years, scholars have intermittently investigated the challenging and unwelcoming environment WCAs experience in academia. Foundational texts from the United States such as Strangers in Paradise: Academics from the Working Class (1984) by Ryan and Sackrey, and This Fine Place So Far from Home (1995) by Dews and Law revealed the struggles WCAs face, for instance, the feeling of not fitting into academia. The beautifully heartfelt Limbo: Blue-Collar Roots, White-Collar Dreams (2005) by Lubrano extended this theme and discussed the internal conflicts WCAs experience when straddling ‘two worlds’. In 1997, UK academics, Mahony and Zmroczek published a groundbreaking edited collection of essays entitled Class Matters: Working Class Women’s Perspectives on Social Class. This book, influenced by a dissatisfaction with writings on social class written primarily from a middle-class perspective, brought together the experiences of working-class women who were studying and working in HE. Their narratives are ‘troubled and paradoxical’ (Hey, 2003, p. 320). Further texts from outside the UK have delved into contemporary issues in academia. Hurst’s 2010 work The Burden of Academic Success: Loyalists, Renegades, and Double Agents described the psychological and social costs of academic success. Whereas Michell et al.’s (2015) work Bread and Roses: Voices of Australian Academics from the Working Class, and Ardoin and Martinez’s (2019) book Straddling Class in the Academy offered valuable insights into the obstacles faced by WCAs and the family support they receive.

Various journal articles have extended research themes relating to WCAs. Poole (2023) suggests the importance of discussions on WCAs also come from a positive space, transcending victimhood and heroic narratives (p. 522). Walkerdine (2023) recognises the challenges encountered by working-class researchers while highlighting the transformative potential of their research to inspire pride rather than shame. Pifer et al. (2023) conducted a content and thematic analysis of 218 published narratives from WCAs, to explore the impact of their class backgrounds at work and home. Their research highlighted the challenges that arise when contributing ‘one’s talents in the liminal space between two worlds’ (p. 125). Their study also observed the need for intersectional research on the effects of other identity characteristics alongside their working-class identities (Pifer et al., 2023). Jones and Maguire’s (2021) intersectional research on WCA women discussed their ‘hybrid identities’, as described by Walkerdine et al., (2003) and Lubrano (2005), which meant they did not comfortably ‘fit’ into either middle-class academia or their working-class ‘homes’. The impact of their gender was that they were subjected to lower pay and fewer promotion opportunities compared to their male counterparts (p. 46).

In recent years, three books have emerged from academics within the UK. Experiences of Academics from a Working Class Heritage: Ghosts of Childhood Habitus by Binns (2019) focused on the role their background played in helping them to support and develop a rapport with working-class students. In Crew (2020), Higher Education and Working Class Academics. Precarity and Diversity in Academia, respondents recalled their lived experience of impostor syndrome, alienation, and microaggressions. Last, but by no means least, Burnell Reilly (2022) book of autoethnographies, The Lives of Working Class Academics: Getting Ideas Above Your Station delved into the journeys and identity negotiation of WCAs. These books collectively expanded the discourse on WCAs by offering nuanced personal narratives. In its entirety, this literature, which also includes numerous US and various UK journal articles by influential academics such as Hey (various); Walkerdine (various); Rickets and Morris (2021), have provided valuable insights into the challenges WCAs encounter in academia. While significant progress has been made in the scholarship on the perspectives of WCAs, there are still gaps in this literature. Most notably, there is a lack of substantial critique of the term ‘working-class academic’.

A working class identity serves as a powerful tool for challenging and interrogating the entrenched power dynamics within academia (Mazurek, 2009). Yet incorporating the social identifier ‘working-class’ into a study of academics introduces inherent tensions and conflicts because as Attfield (2007) critically comments, entry into academia is presumed to be a ‘ticket out of the working classes’ (p. 33). The term WCA might appear paradoxical as ‘working-class’ has traditionally implied a position ‘below’ those from elite or middle-class backgrounds. Working class people are often perceived as being uncouth, irrational, and as having a lack of intelligence (Long et al., 2000, p. 1). This characterisation is particularly intriguing when considering Skeggs’s (2004) observation that ‘attributing negative value to the working-class is a mechanism for attributing value to the middle class (p. 977), i.e. one is tasteful by judging another to be tasteless.

Those deemed “smart” are expected to climb the social ladder and abandon their working-class identities - problematising assumptions about social mobility (Todd, 2018) and also disregarding the intelligence of those who embrace their class heritage. My respondents had varied engagement with their backgrounds. Some continued to reside in the same neighbourhoods and/or preserved their cultural identities, while others had some distance from their heritage. Francis (2023), who had a hybrid experience, referred to living in the same area, drinking in the same pubs, but reported that he did not feel that he identified as being working class. He did acknowledge however, that he was ‘active in its ecosystem’ (p. 19), suggesting engagement without necessarily claiming membership.

Yet, I can also recognise that academics defining themselves as being working class may be perceived as denying one’s privilege or ‘wanting the best of both worlds’ as someone once said to me. One could argue that my respondents are fortunate enough to pursue their passions in research and receive financial rewards for what, for some, may be a pastime. They may engage in international travel, within the limitations of their research budgets, and typically enjoy flexible work schedules. Academia demonstrated increased flexibility amid the COVID-19 pandemic by adopting remote work arrangements. However, data from the Office of National Statistics (2023) indicate that this privilege is less common among working-class individuals. This disparity is also evident in manual employment, where workers, typically from working-class backgrounds, endure repetitive tasks, fixed positions with little autonomy. Some manual jobs do pay well, typically the dirty, dangerous jobs that men often do, but generally, there is an obvious salary differential between manual and professional employment. For instance, manual roles are often hourly paid at or above the national minimum wage (£10.18), while the average salary for a Lecturer in the UK is £40,761¹ (Universities and College Union, n.d.).

Lynch and O’Neill (1994) concluded that ‘if one is working class and formally educated, in the sense of having obtained higher education credentials…one loses one’s defining social class identity in part if not in whole’ (p. 319). The implication is that even with a degree, one might not be considered working class, reinforcing the stereotype that working-class individuals are not intelligent. Wakeling’s (2010) chapter entitled ‘Is There Such Thing as a Working Class Academic?’, also argued that academics cannot be working class as ‘they do not “labour” in the conventional sense’ (p. 38). His thoughtful analysis continues:

It does not follow that the occupational position and life circumstances of a junior professional such as an academic can be compared to that of someone in a ‘solidly’ working-class occupation such as a bus driver, cleaner or a supermarket checkout assistant…In general, pay and conditions are better in the professions. (Wakeling, 2010)

Examining each point individually, Wakeling’s argument, though persuasive, paints a partial picture of working-class employment and overlooks the shifts there have been in the labour market, wherein manual jobs are progressively being replaced by roles that demand technological skills and offer enhanced financial compensation (Deloitte, 2015). These narrow stereotypes of working-class individuals in traditional working-class jobs limits the idea that they may aspire to ‘better things’ (Hey & George, 2013, p. 102). Widening participation policies have resulted in a surge of students from disadvantaged backgrounds entering HE (UCAS, 2023) with the aspiration of securing higher qualifications for improved job and career prospects. Additionally, it is crucial to recognise that not all members of the academic community enjoy high earnings, or the comfortable lifestyles often associated with academia. While some academics may indeed command substantial salaries and lead privileged lives, this is not universal. Many academics face financial challenges, evident in the disparity between the substantial salaries of professors and the comparatively lower pay received by individuals employed under precarious conditions. Academic casualisation presents a universal challenge, irrespective of class, but it is far easier if you possess independent wealth or inherited resources to cushion the financial blows of temporary contracts. Beyond these financial issues, the measurable outcomes for quality of life, which Wakeling also refers to, are subjective and can vary widely among individuals. Job satisfaction, work–life balance, and wellbeing can also be influenced by personal factors beyond pay and conditions, such as workplace culture, job security, and the sense of purpose in one’s work (Voukelatou et al., 2021).

Upon examining my data concerning definitions of WCAs, I noted that almost half of my respondents (44%; n. 111), were on casualised contracts. This circumstance often exposed them to financial challenges reminiscent of their childhood, as they lacked the necessary economic resources to navigate job insecurity. Furthermore, my respondents reported various other situational, institutional, and dispositional barriers (Warnock, 2016), when attempting to move from short term, casualised contracts to permanent lecturer or researcher positions. WCAs are also not a homogenous group which means there are likely to be differences in pay and opportunities across specific academic disciplines and institutions. There may also be negative experiences, influenced by intersecting aspects of their identity, i.e. gender, ethnicity, and disability, which may be more ‘negotiable’ when one has elite forms of capital – all of which I will discuss in Chapters Four and Five.

The following section aims to define a WCA. Traditional assessments of social class and socioeconomic status (SES) in higher education have relied on objective criteria tied to parental income, occupation, and education, as discussed in Chapter One. Zweig (2000), argues, it is more useful to define income as an effect, not a cause, of someone’s class position: ‘Class is not based on income. But income has a great deal to do with class’ (p. 66). However, a narrow focus on resource inequalities as the sole determinants of social class, neglect the subjective and intersectional nature of social class, as noted by (Rubin et al., 2014, p. 196). The forthcoming definition places significant emphasis on self-definition. I aimed to ensure that this study accommodates individuals who resonated with a working-class identity in some way, aligning with Davis’s (2021) viewpoint on the importance of allowing respondents to express their authentic selves rather than fitting into predefined categories. This consideration is crucial, given that, as Davies pointed out, one respondent ‘considered not returning after feeling not working class enough’ (p. 5). It is imperative to avoid silencing certain narratives, and subjective measures of class enable more accurate depictions by allowing individuals to reflect on their unique experiences (Rubin et al., 2014).

Defining a Working-Class Academic

Phase One of this study provided a definition of WCAs as being ‘one whom defines their background/upbringing as working class and continues to identify in this way’ (Crew, 2020, p. 7). This definition emphasises an individual perspective, allowing for the role of memory and lived experience (Pifer et al., 2023). It suggests that being a WCA is not merely a historical label but an ongoing identification, reflecting a commitment to their working-class identity, even as they advance in their academic careers. This ‘hints’ that the dimensions of a WCA identity extend beyond economic factors, to include cultural and social aspects. In Crew (2020, 2022), I identified four main class markers that were inherent in the findings of Phase One of the study. These ‘markers’ consisted of a lack of a safety net to ‘manage’ academic precarity; an uneven access to capital; a complex habitus and respondents discussed ‘utilising lived experience’. In Phases Two and Three of the research process, I shifted the focus back to the respondents and asked them to reflect upon their own definition of a WCA. Specifically, I requested that they consider the statement: ‘I identify as being a working class academic’. They were then encouraged to elaborate on the reasons for their answer. Respondents were intentionally not provided with a predefined description, allowing them to independently reflect on what this term meant to them, and any challenges associated with using the descriptor ‘working class’ alongside ‘academic’. This methodology aimed to capture spontaneously expressed, context specific keywords associated with this identity.

In all, 10% (n.26) of respondents struggled with the moniker WCA, replying ‘maybe’ or ‘not sure’ when asked about the term. Their primary source of uncertainty stemmed from their academic roles, which they characterised as not aligning with what they perceived to be representative of a working-class occupation – a sentiment previously noted by Wakeling (2010). These respondents were also similar to what Rowell (2018) described as being ‘class drifters’ as they perceived their class identity to be undergoing a transformation due to their academic achievements (p. 300).

Its complicated… I would say I was from a working-class background but have had a middle class job for 20 years. [Rosie, a Senior Lecturer Social Work at a post-1992 institution]

I feel as though working in academia in a fairly well paid job does mean I am now middle class, but I do have a working class background that I am proud of. It wouldn’t figure in any identity of myself. [Joseph, a Senior Research Fellow Education Policy at a Russell Group institution]

I certainly come from a working class background and for most of my own working life have been a factory worker. However, I am now an academic researcher (since the age of 54) and it’s hard to see that as anything but a very middle class job. [Gabriel, a Research Fellow in Employment Relations at a Russell Group institution]

Can’t help but think that now I’ve been through the education system, earn the wage I do, have upward mobility and access to multiple opportunities (in multiple areas), it’s fetishistic of me to still claim a working class identity. [Mila, a Senior Lecturer in Gender-Based Violence at a post-1992 institution]

These responses revealed that there was a boundary between their heritage and their present profession, which introduced a flux in their class identities. Owing to their academic roles, acknowledging their working-class heritage posed a challenge for these individuals (Lubrano, 2005). Rosie’s response reflected the tension between her roots and her current profession where she identified with both classes to some extent. Joseph articulated a similar sentiment but retained pride in his working-class heritage even if he felt it didn’t play a significant role in his current identity. Gabriel’s narrative highlighted the class transition he had undergone, and the impact of occupation on his perception of social class. In comparison, Mila’s quotation, which mentions upward mobility and access to opportunities, suggested a potential shift in class identification because of career advancements. Mila’s use of the term “fetishistic,” implied she was aware of how working-class realities are often romanticised portrayals, skewed towards men (Walkerdine, 2017). Throughout my research, respondents would refer to instances where they had observed class privileged academics temporarily embracing an attractive working-class image until it became inconvenient, where they would then discard it like a disposable accessory, or like ‘a snake sheds its skin’ (Crew, 2020, p. 23). This shedding of the working-class persona suggests that it was used to enhance their own image or gain social capital.

Despite these issues, the overwhelming majority of my respondents, comprising 90% (n. 229), confirmed an ‘underlying and persistent working-class identity’ (Hey, 1997, p. 143). An examination of the qualitative data revealed five dominant keywords: ‘family’ (n. 53 instances); ‘identity’ (47 instances); ‘capital’ (n. 44 instances); ‘parents’ (42 instances), and ‘habitus’ (n.27 instances). The prominence of these keywords suggests that, for most individuals, being a WCA is deeply embedded in their familial and personal experiences. Respondents such as Emily, a Senior Lecturer Criminology at a post-1992 institution, saw their working-class heritage as being a central part of their identity.

It [class] runs through me like a stick of rock. You feel class from where you live (I still live where I always have), my accent, the words I use, the people I know and friends I have. My views, lifestyle and values.

Elements from my life experience – upbringing, education, family, geography, hobbies & interests, accent, clothing – and the classed nature of those experiences have a fundamental impact on my integration as a member of “the academy”. [Sadie, an Assistant Professor in Law at a post-1992 institution]

Emily suggested that her working-class identity is both ingrained and integral, much like the distinctive patterns found in a stick of rock. The passage also indicates that, for Emily and many others, their working-class identity was not a static label but a dynamic force that influenced their perspectives, interactions, and sense of self.

Three distinct themes emerged in the data with regards to how respondents defined their identity as a WCA: ‘cultural background’, ‘financial challenges’, and ‘a subjective awareness of one’s class identity within the academic context’. Given that respondents also referred to ‘habitus’ and ‘capital’, the impact of these two concepts will also be included and expanded upon.

Statistical Data on Working-Class Academics

In 1992, a comprehensive study of academics, which solely centred on the British Sociological professoriate, was carried out by Oxford Sociologist AH Halsey. In this study, Halsey found that 17% of his sample had fathers who had or were working in manual occupations (this fell to 13% when analysing professors) (Halsey, 1995). Wakeling (2023) analysed data collected as part of the Great British Class Survey in 2011 and observed that around 23% of the 2,500 academics who completed the survey reported working-class origins,³ although only 10% of the sample self-identified as being working class. Statistical data from the labour force survey (LFS), which drew upon a large survey of professional occupation employees, reported on by Friedman and Laurison (2019) found that in academia only 14% of academic respondents were from a working-class background. Phase four of this research study involved a further analysis of the LFS, conducted in 2023 by Rebecca Linnett.⁴ Table 1 provides statistical data from 2014 (when data on the social class of academics first began to be collected).

According to Table 1, the percentage of WCAs ranged from 9% to 15%, with no clear upward or downward trend over the years. The reason for this disparity is potentially because Friedman and Laurison (2019) included respondents working outside of academia, while Rebecca Linnett’s analysis, as part of this study, focused on statistical data on those working within academia. There was also a roughly equal distribution between male and female academics, although in some years, there was a slight skew towards female academics, but this difference was not substantial. Disability status varied between 2% and 5%, with some fluctuations over the years. An explanation of the analysis procedure produced by Rebecca Linnett is discussed in Appendix Two.

Table 7, which is included in Appendix Three, presents data on the ethnic backgrounds of WCAs from 2014 (when data on the social class of academics first began to be collected) to 2022. Some key observations included the majority of WCAs across all years were White, ranging from 87.5% to 96.0%. There was limited representation from individuals such as from Mixed/Multiple groups, Indian, Pakistani, Chinese, Other Asian backgrounds, Black/African/Caribbean, and Others. These groups typically accounted for a small percentage of WCAs, often less than 10%. While White academics consistently comprised of the majority, there was some variation in the representation of individuals from other ethnic backgrounds across different years. For example, there was no data for WCAs of Indian or Pakistani heritage in some years, alongside minor fluctuations in the representation of Mixed/Multiple, Chinese, and Black/African/Caribbean heritage. The data indicated a slight increase in the diversity of WCAs in more recent years, with the inclusion of individuals from Mixed/Multiple, Black/African/Caribbean, and Other ethnic backgrounds.

It should be acknowledged that collecting data on WCAs poses challenges, considering the complexity of class identity. As I discussed earlier in this chapter, some may not identify as being working class due to their academic roles. Understanding intersectionality in relation to WCAs is also difficult as while there is a wealth of studies examining the intersection of class and gender in academia, there same cannot be said for other intersections. For instance, when conducting a literature search for research on, ‘class and ethnicity and academics’, the available literature typically focuses on academics from ethnicity minorities and excluded a class analysis. Incidentally, there was also a significant gap in the available literature regarding the intersections of social class and disability, as well as how class intersected with institution and subject in relation to academics.

The oversight of these crucial intersections in academic research may result from various factors. A significant reason related to gaps in the literature on class and ethnicity could be due to representation as WCAs from ethnic minority backgrounds experience a multitude of barriers in engaging with academia and becoming an academic. Perhaps research on classed intersections has inadvertently suggested that class may have a lesser impact than ethnicity or disability on academic trajectories. This observation could hold significance because, as I will elaborate on in Chapter Four, the microaggressions encountered by my respondents from ethnic minorities, and those with a disability, appear to be less influenced by their class background and more closely related to their ethnicity or disability (See Bhopal, 2022; Rana et al., 2022; Rollock, 2019 on ethnicity; Lorenz, 2022; Brown & Leigh, 2018; Dolmage, 2017 regarding ableism). The lack of attention to these intersections, as well as subject and institution, may also stem from a broader lack of recognition within academic circles regarding the intersectional nature of classed experiences. These collective issues perpetuate the marginalisation of specific groups within the WCA population, reinforcing the need for further scholarship to address these gaps.

In the concluding section of this chapter, I revisit the encounters of WCAs employed on casualised contracts (previously discussed in Crew, 2020). Here, I further elaborate on this discussion to refer to obstacles in gaining research funding when on a fixed-term contract, as my respondents reported this as a significant area of inequality.

Academic Precarity

In 2021/2022, 62,730 staff were employed by HE providers on atypical contracts. These types of contracts meet one or more of the following criteria:

• for less than four consecutive weeks;

• for one-off or short-term tasks and;

• involve a high degree of flexibility (Higher Education Statistical Agency, 2023).

The total full time equivalent (FTE) value of atypical staff in 2021/2022 was 5,595 (Higher Education Statistical Agency, 2023) although it is particularly difficult to calculate the exact number of casualised workers in universities as individual situations differ across departments and institutions, and reliable information about research and teaching contracts can be difficult to access and. higher education statistical agency (HESA) data is also inconsistent as they do not collect information on the length or type of contracts, or on the use of hourly paid staff. It only collects data on the balance of fixed-term contracts, as against open-ended contracts, and on the use of ‘atypical’ contracts (Crew, 2020, p. 46). Courtois and O’Keefe (2019) reported challenges in engaging with casual university employees, possibly due to their reluctance to discuss their experiences. In alignment with this, the University and College Union (UCU) (2020) found that 17% of those on precarious contracts faced difficulties affording food, while others encountered challenges in keeping up with rent/mortgage payments (34%) and utility bills (36%).

In all, 45% (n. 110) of my respondents were on precarious contracts, and of those, 17% (n. 18) had been regular users of foodbanks and 10% (n.11) had been on the verge of homelessness. Jeremy, a postdoctoral researcher in Geography at a traditional institution, said that his continuous struggles with precarious employment, had left him ‘contemplating leaving academia’.⁵ Respondents who experienced precarity, highlighted a number of intersecting issues, summarised in this quotation from Talia, a Research Assistant in Nursing at a traditional institution:

My contract currently ends on the fifth of September. And so, for the past, I’d say two or three weeks, I’ve been searching for maybe like three or four hours a day for new jobs. And that definitely of demotivates you for the job that you’re working on now. Because you’re not giving it your all, because in the back of your head, you’re constantly worrying like, okay, is there more funding coming up, and you’re putting energy and effort into different job applications. For you know, hopefully one contract, another 12, one contract, only to be worried again, and under a couple of months’ time.

This quote provides insight into the challenges and anxieties faced by individuals on fixed-term contracts within academia. The speaker describes the unsettling experience of knowing that their current contract is ending soon and the subsequent pressure to secure a new job.

Jeremy, a postdoctoral researcher in Geography at a traditional institution, alongside other WCAs, described the recurring pattern of securing a contract, only to face uncertainty on what to do next once the contract ended. The cyclical nature of academia perpetuates these feelings of instability and insecurity.

These structural barriers also meant that WCAs on precarious contracts found it difficult to gain research funding. My respondents on precarious contracts, mirroring Soria (2016), rarely accessed professional development, which then hindered them in crafting competitive research proposals.

I need to develop to have a chance at a permanent role, but there are no opportunities. [Talia, a Research Assistant in Nursing at a traditional institution]

Catch 22 – I can’t get research funding as my institution won’t support me. I can’t get a permanent job without a better profile, I can’t work unpaid as I’m poor if I don’t work, but I can’t find work without more opportunities. [Margaret, a Lecturer in Education at a Russell Group institution]

Respondents on precarious contracts talked of how limited access to institutional support, including research development programmes hindered their ability to navigate the intricate grant application processes. Without this critical support, WCAs struggled to establish a track record of successfully funded projects. Respondents also reported that their heavy teaching loads and administrative responsibilities, which often accompanied precarious contracts, had left them with limited time and resources to develop robust research proposals. Flynn, a Lecturer in Health at a traditional institution, and other respondents on precarious contracts, reported that the absence of job security in his role may have reduced their competitiveness in grant applications as he suggested funding agencies were ‘seeking more stable project leads’. Addressing these issues will necessitate institutions and funding agencies to acknowledge the unique hurdles faced by WCAs on precarious contracts and to implement policies to promote their inclusion within the academic research community.

Among my own respondents on precarious contracts, it was WCA women and WCAs with a disability who were more likely to report difficulties in accessing research funding to pursue their research projects. My data is supported somewhat by statistics from the UK Research and Innovation (UKRI) (2023), although their statistical data does not refer to social class. In the 2020–2021 financial year, UKRI reported funding distribution data. In 2020–2021, White males received 57% of principal investigator awards, compared with 24% that were awarded to White females. The next largest difference by gender was for the Asian ethnic group with Asian males receiving 6% of principal investigator awards, while only 1% were awarded to Asian females. Proportions from the Black, Mixed, and other ethnic groups were similar in terms of the gender of principal investigators. For co-investigators, the highest proportion of awardees in 2020–2021 was also among White males, at 49% compared with 25% that were awarded to White females. The next largest proportion of awards went to Asian males at 6%. Females from the Black and Mixed ethnic groups received 1% of co-investigator awards each. Burns et al. (2019) proposed two potential explanations for gendered (and potentially ethnic) differences in funding application success: either women’s applications were inferior or bias against women contributed to the gap. In terms of gender, Burns et al. (2019) emphasised that there is no compelling evidence supporting the notion that male and female researchers are not equally capable. I too did not find any supporting evidence for that, but this was not the remit of my research. Research by the Engineering and Physical Sciences Research Council (EPSRC) in 2023a found that while award rates by number of grants were similar for men and women, women consistently applied for smaller grants. Alongside this, research has found that ethnic minority researchers tend to face funding biases (EPSRC 2023b), while those with disabilities often struggle with inaccessible systems (Gladstone et al., 2022).

Gender bias in funding awards is a multifaceted issue influenced by interconnected factors. Speaking with my female WCAs on casualised contracts and most referred to an example of an incident where they experienced unconscious bias relating to grant proposals.

I believe in the strength of my ideas, but I’ve struggled with funding applications. I can’t be sure but, even though it was well thought through and composed… a proposal I submitted was criticised for its content. But I had modelled it on one submitted by my male supervisor and he was awarded the funding. So, it’s disheartening to think that unconscious bias might influence the evaluation process. [Margaret, a Lecturer in Education at a Russell Group institution]

Margaret reported perceiving that her ideas were not being judged fairly, suspecting bias or discrimination in the grant evaluation process. This was despite her observing, and attempting to replicate the approach of her male supervisor who shared his funded proposal with her. This is similar to research by Morgan et al. (2018) who argued that gender bias persists within research grant peer-review processes, reflecting the historical and systemic gender disparities present in academic institutions and beyond. Respondents were silent on class/ethnicity/disability funding gaps as such further investigation of these complex dynamics is crucial.