A few weeks ago, I was in the pub when a couple of slightly drunken 18-year-olds wandered over. They were friendly and eager to talk politics. Unfortunately, one of them opened with: "I'm a bit EDL, I support Reform." My friends recoiled and told him to leave, but my curiosity was piqued. How often do you get the chance to talk to a young, self-identified Reform voter?

He admitted that his dad was racist—but insisted he wasn't. That struck me. There was clearly a generational gap between him and his father. He'd grown up just outside Bristol in a much more multicultural environment—something that often undermines the dehumanisation required to scapegoat "the Other." And yet, he still blamed immigrants for society’s ills.

So what was really driving his views? What emerged was a longing for belonging. He wasn’t clinging to nationalism but to a more local, regional identity. He felt disconnected, rootless, and without a platform to express pride in where he came from. This sense of loss—what I’d call disenfranchisement—is real, and it’s not limited to Reform voters. It cuts across the whole country.

That’s why Keir Starmer’s recent 'tough on immigration' speech felt so cynical. He referenced an “island of strangers” but offered no real explanation for how we got here. Instead, he pointed fingers—at immigrants, at exploitative employers. But he didn’t name the system that drives people from debt-ridden, war-torn countries in search of better lives. He didn’t name the system that forces businesses to slash costs or be driven out. He didn’t name the system whose voracious appetite for growth serves us endless austerity policies that hollow out communities and sever social bonds.

Blame was easier. Easier than addressing the structural causes of inequality, alienation, and social decay. The politics of scarcity always needs scapegoats—and history shows us where that road leads.

I didn’t believe that 18-year-old was truly racist. But there is a vacuum on the left when it comes to these deeper existential issues: meaning, purpose, connection, shared values, community. Reform is filling that vacuum with dangerous answers.

Those of us in the women’s sector—and anyone committed to anti-racism—must rise to the challenge. We need to speak to the underlying discontent. If we want to win people over to a vision of justice, we have to offer more than condemnation—we need to offer radical change, a sense of belonging and community. 

Kiran, Head of Policy

The views expressed in this opinion piece are the author's own.

Photo by Rochelle Brown on Unsplash