Whether the people concerned are “posh politicians who’ve never tasted desperation” or “thin-skinned idealists, too short in the tooth to understand the real world”, McGarvey insists that their actions are usually based on groundless assumptions and false beliefs. What we really need, therefore, is a return of the kind of rooted working-class voices that might reorientate government towards everyday reality: an update of the spirit of Aneurin Bevan, rather than more George Osbornes, David Camerons and Boris Johnsons. But even starting such a turnaround will be a huge and onerous task. Appropriately enough, The Social Distanc e Between Us feels like a huge and sometimes onerous book. McGarvey divides it into three “acts” and begins with 11 chapters that cover homelessness, drug and alcohol addiction, the treatment of immigrants, land ownership, the benefits system and much more. His freewheeling writing style sometimes feels too digressive – one minute he’s explaining the Peasants Revolt of 1381, the next he’s on to the appeals system used by the latter-day Department for Work and Pensions. He occasionally tumbles into suggestions of a stark divide between working-class angels and toffee-nosed villains, as when he makes the improbable claim that imperialism, racism and sexism were “all ideas either dreamed up or imported from overseas by highly educated, sophisticated and wealthy individuals”. Given that his primary focus is Scotland and his past criticisms of the SNP, there is also a noticeable reluctance to pin any blame for the issues he explores on 15 years of government by that party, which, despite Nicola Sturgeon’s impeccable working-class credentials, has failed to get to grips with Scotland’s howling inequalities (and, for that matter, the country’s huge issues with addiction and drug-related deaths). McGarvey asks potent questions about the links between our school systems and a low-end labour market millions of us are only too happy to take advantage of

Charting a route through many inequalities in society, McGarvey's argument is deceptively simple- that the social distance we think of now from Covid is only a more modern version of what has been happening societally for centuries, namely that the lives of the poorest and most vulnerable in society are almost never seen by those on the other end of fortune. Ugaz’s case is all too familiar in Peru, where powerful groups regularly use the courts to silence journalists by fabricating criminal allegations against them.’ ITV’s Robert Peston - a man so middle class he ought to have a reed diffuser scent named after him." Having now had over 20 years of direct Scottish control over virtually every issue that the author raises, his silence on any aspect of Scottish administration speaks more loudly than any of the other words in the book. Join Orwell prize-winning author, BAFTA nominated broadcaster and celebrated hip-hop artist Darren McGarvey for his new show centred on his recent book, The Social Distance Between Us. In it Darren confronts the scandal of class inequality with passion, humility and a dose of humour.Too simplistic and down with the people for my liking. However did have several points which I believe could be expanded on in separate chapters or as stand alone books. For myself the American Corporatization of Britain. The book has it's merits and touched a lot of ground. If this book doesn’t make you angry, you need to have a good look at yourself. I was seething, crying, astonished, flabbergasted… Mr McGarvey tells the story of Britain and inequality by slapping you round the face with research, statistics, anecdotes, and personal stories. But this is not a polemic. He doesn’t ‘hate’ rich people and they do feature in the book. He just shows us very clearly why we are in our current mess. And why if you have a system that can profit from misery, then the system won’t really want it to stop. But I was able to be downwardly mobile precisely because of my education. Although I hated school, I loved learning, and was good at English, French, Biology and German. This meant that I could sustain myself morally and intellectually. All of author and documentary-maker Darren McGarvey’s work is a provocation, and I am easily provoked. So I consume it in a state halfway between admiration and irritation. Admirritation, if you like. But here’s the thing: I always do consume it. Often, the parts that irritate me most are the ones that keep me consuming, just as the points I take greatest issue with are the ones I find myself thinking about long after I am done. The book is at its best as a piece of reportage; powerful stories of individuals told with empathy.

Darren ‘Loki’ McGarvey is a legend. I love his opinion’s in this book that I’ve read so far, and from having him as a Facebook friend I see his opinions on different subjects daily so I really am enjoying this book. The poet Jo Clement gives voice to the stories and people of her family’s Romany past. In her collection Outlandish she has no time for Romantic impressions of British Gypsy ethnicity as she moves from ancient stopping-places to decaying council estates. Her poems are imaginative protests that cast light on a hidden and threatened culture. And yet. As with Poverty Safari, the book that won him one of 2018’s Orwell prizes, the quality of McGarvey’s reporting and storytelling is first-rate. And with the direct encounters and personal experiences underpinning his arguments, he makes no end of astute points. A big problem with 21st-century attitudes to childhood, he says, is that “belts have just been replaced with time-outs, naughty steps and shame culture”. There is a wealth of material about the “over-policing” of deprived people and places and its overlooked consequences for the ways that lots of people – young men, mostly – understand power and their relation to it. McGarvey also asks potent questions about the links between our school systems and a low-end labour market millions of us are only too happy to take advantage of, with barely a thought for the iniquities it perpetuates: “If young people from poorer communities didn’t drop out of school early or fail to achieve high enough grades to go straight to university,” he asks, “then who would do those low-paid, precarious jobs? Who would be there to answer your call about your car insurance at 11pm? Who would be working the drive-throughs when late-night hunger strikes?” Some years ago, I was dragged along to Barnsley Civic Centre to a concert by the Pitmen Poets. I have a general rule that I don’t like any poetry that I haven’t written, and the fact that this concert was going to be two-plus hours of traditional folk songs interspersed with other peoples’ poetry left me cold. Much to my surprise, Bob Fox and his band were amazingly good, and I was soon swept along with the moment.Since leaving the corporate world, I realise that putting shareholder value above all else will destroy the future of our children. Why are the rich getting richer while the poor only get poorer? How is it possible that in a wealthy, civilised democracy cruelty and inequality are perpetuated by our own public services? And how come, if all the best people are in all the top jobs, Britain is such an unmitigated bin fire? Join Darren McGarvey on a journey through a divided Britain in search of answers. Here, our latter-day Orwell exposes the true scale of Britain's social ills and reveals why our current political class, those tasked with bringing solutions, are so distanced from our lived experience that they are the last people you'd want fighting your corner.

Although I don't agree with everything Darren McGarvey says in "The Social Distance Between Us", I do think he is spot on locating where the major problems in Britain reside. Early in the book, he introduces the concept of "Proximity", which he uses to refer to the distance (politically, geographically, economically, etc) between those with the power in society and those who are either powerless or have little power. This is McGarvey at his best, asking discomfiting questions of many-most?-of his readers and also pointing out that class inequality is endlessly reproduced by people who either do well out of it or are too institutionalised to see what is in front of them. The quality of McGarvey's reporting and storytelling is first-rate... he makes no end of astute points John Harris, Observer (Book of the Week)Towards the end, he worries success will blunt his firebrand tendencies. But then he provides a manifesto for transforming Britain that includes the abolition of fee-paying schools and the strengthening of trade unions, and it’s clear his enduring radicalism is a given. Offer[s] an antidote to populist anger that transcends left and right... articulate and emotional' Financial Times Possibly an uncomfortable read for the mandarins in British politics, but that's exactly the reason this book should be taken seriously. It is a book that managed to make me both sad and angry. It made me question myself, living in a middle-class bubble, oblivious to others. Sadly, in my lifetime (or what is left of it) that is never going to happen. Career politicians, opportunists, the rich and the already powerful are never going to give up without a fight and right now, they make the rules to suit themselves as we see in parliament on an all too regular basis.

This is McGarvey at his best, asking discomfiting questions of many – most? – of his readers and also pointing out that class inequality is endlessly reproduced by people who either do well out of it or are too institutionalised to see what is in front of them. “If you’re a teacher,” he says, “you could stand up to your colleagues who believe placing children who misbehave in social isolation as punishment represents anything but child cruelty… If you’re a copper, you could grass up some of your colleagues now and then instead of turning a blind eye… If you run a business, you could commit to paying your staff a little more than the living wage and if that is unaffordable, you might question why the business model you have adopted only works when you pay poverty wages.”This distance multiplies over time, as those who pass laws and oversee programmes to support the most vulnerable often live the kinds of lives that rarely interact with those who they are aiming to support.