Accent bias - What it actually means

Classism is alive and kicking —and nowhere is that clearer than at the University of Edinburgh, where staff are now being trained not to discriminate against their own country’s working-class students.

This month, staff at the University of Edinburgh have undergone accent bias training to tackle discrimination against Scots. Yes, you read that right: a Scottish university is having to train its staff not to treat Scottish students unfairly.

Perhaps this doesn’t come as a surprise, given that the University of Edinburgh has long been seen as a posh institution. If we were to delve into the nitty-gritty of the poshness hierarchy in higher education, Edinburgh would rank highly—though not quite up there with the likes of Oxford or St Andrews.

Nonetheless, there remains a persistent problem: Scottish students from state schools or those with strong Scottish accents report being mocked and made to feel lesser than their peers. The snobbery problem has lingered at Edinburgh, and last year the institution even issued a plea for students to stop behaving snobbishly—a statement that has since been removed from its website. Some campaigners working to widen access to elite institutions like Edinburgh felt that this clumsy warning oversimplified a far more complex issue that requires deeper, long-term commitment rather than a token notice.

It’s hardly surprising that bias exists when only around 30% of Edinburgh’s students are Scottish, and over 70% are from England and overseas. Scottish students are in the minority—a situation unlikely to change soon, due to funding caps on Scottish places. As a result, Scottish students with thick accents, or those unfamiliar with the rules of polo, are at a disadvantage both academically and socially. Some have even found themselves scrutinised when admitting they need to work part-time to fund their studies (the horror!).

While snobbery from a minority of students is perhaps to be expected (though still disappointing), you would hope for better behaviour from staff and lecturers. Yet, reports of staff mocking students for having a strong accent or for not having attended private school are unacceptable—and frankly, shocking. Such behaviour entrenches divisions and reinforces a sense of exclusion that can have lasting impacts on students’ confidence and sense of belonging.

This issue isn’t confined to Scotland. People from other parts of the UK with regional accents also find themselves targeted. Edinburgh may be the first university to run accent bias training for staff, having acknowledged a problem within its walls, but it is far from the only institution grappling with this.

A recent University of Cambridge study found that many people associate working-class or regional accents with crime, and that thick accents often attract negative assumptions. The study, focused on the justice system, revealed that juries can show bias if the accused has a strong regional or working-class accent—a worrying prospect that exposes deeper prejudices in society as a whole.

In the media, regional accents have become more common, helping to break down some barriers. However, concerns remain over how accents are used—for instance, the trope of the TV villain sporting a regional accent—and whether there is truly enough fair representation. The mere presence of accents on screen is not enough if they are constantly linked to stereotypes.

Accent bias is not unique to Edinburgh. Its prestigious reputation and funding model may create a fertile environment for such attitudes to flourish, but the root cause is deeper: classism remains alive and well. Language is just one piece of this larger puzzle. While a minority of English students may contribute to a hostile atmosphere for Scots with strong accents, it’s safe to say that even if Edinburgh’s student body were 100% Scottish, but from the same socio-economic backgrounds, accent bias would likely persist.

Class issues at universities are nothing new, especially at elite institutions. Oxford’s infamous Bullingdon Club—a breeding ground for the UK’s upper echelons—has long disgusted working-class students and generally anyone who hasn’t attended a hunting weekend. A closer look at such "drinking clubs" reveals they continue to thrive, their pomp and extravagance undimmed. While they might seem extreme examples, their enduring presence is a reminder of the culture of entitlement and contempt for outsiders that still exists within parts of higher education.

Although we like to think we live in an equal society—and we have indeed made progress—the ongoing existence of clubs like the Bullingdon at one end of the scale, and casual jibes about regional accents at the other, show that classism remains an issue. These are just two visible symptoms of a broader social problem.

For children in Scotland’s most deprived areas, the situation may be even more challenging. The educational attainment gap has grown, despite overall improvements in qualifications. Moreover, students from poorer backgrounds face fewer options upon leaving school. The Scottish Government’s concept of “positive destinations”—university, college, or similar pathways—primarily benefits school leavers from middle- and upper-class backgrounds, with knock-on effects for universities.

But the solution doesn’t lie solely in pushing more students from a working-class background, or any background for that matter into higher education, although of course every young person should be encouraged to fulfil their potential. It’s telling that the Scottish Government brands further education as a “positive destination”—does that mean everything else is negative? Educational bias doesn’t start at university; it begins much earlier. The notion that university or college is the only route to success is unhelpful. If we let policymakers decide that only higher education counts as a "positive destination," we risk giving them permission to under-invest in other pathways, which may be equally valuable.

In Scotland, the bias surrounding university is pervasive. We should be offering all young people meaningful choices when they leave school—whether that’s apprenticeships, jobs with local businesses or industries, or further study. University isn’t right for everyone and therefore shouldn’t be presented as the only ‘positive’ option. This narrow focus also doesn’t help address our skills gap. Equating success solely with higher education fosters its own kind of snobbery and overlooks the needs of society as a whole.

As for those who feel the need to mock someone’s accent or dialect out of spite or ignorance—more fool them and their dreary idiolect. The English alternative to many dialects is often so much duller. Thank goodness we’ve resisted a total takeover by the Queen’s English.

At the core of all this, however, lies the same stubborn issue: classism.