Most workplaces like to believe they are fair. The job ad is “open to anyone”, the interview panel is “just looking for the best person”, and the culture is described as “high standards” and “professional”. On paper, it sounds neutral. In real life, it often is not.
Classism at work is rarely loud or deliberate. It does not usually show up as someone saying, “People from certain backgrounds do not belong here.” It shows up in quieter ways, through everyday assumptions about what “good” looks like. It shows up in who is seen as capable, who is trusted, who gets stretched, and who is quietly filtered out before they ever get a real chance.
There is a simple truth that many organisations avoid because it is uncomfortable: professionalism often comes with a price tag. The person who seems most “together” may also be the person with the least friction in their life. Reliable transport. Stable internet. A quiet space to work. A laptop that does not crash during a presentation. Clothing that fits the unspoken dress code. Even the confidence to speak up can be partly shaped by whether someone has spent their life in rooms where they felt they belonged.
None of that is a moral failing. It is simply access. But when access gets mistaken for competence, the workplace starts rewarding comfort and calling it merit.
The quiet price tag of “polish”
Think about how often “polish” is treated as proof of readiness. The quick reply. The crisp email. The calm presence in meetings. The effortless banter with senior people. The ability to stay late without it causing a logistical crisis. These things can look like commitment and competence, but they can also be signs of fewer constraints.
If someone relies on public transport, leaving at a specific time is not a lack of dedication. If someone lives in a shared home, taking a call without background noise is not always possible. If someone supports family members, “after-hours networking” can feel less like culture and more like exclusion. If data is expensive, being online all day is not a personality trait, it is a cost.
The workplace often treats these realities as individual shortcomings instead of structural friction. That is where classism lives. It quietly turns life circumstances into character judgements.
When “culture fit” becomes class fit
“Culture fit” is one of the most common hiding places for class bias. It is also one of the vaguest phrases in corporate life. When a team cannot clearly explain why someone is not a fit, the explanation often becomes about vibe, energy, presence, or how naturally they match the room.
The problem is not culture itself. The problem is the belief that good culture is something you can spot by familiarity. Familiarity feels safe. It feels professional. It feels like “this person gets it”. But familiarity can also be a proxy for background, accent, confidence, vocabulary, and exposure to corporate norms.
This is how good intentions still produce unfair outcomes. Nobody needs to be cruel for the result to be exclusionary. All it takes is a shared set of unexamined defaults.
The language that quietly decides who belongs
Workplace classism is reinforced through certain words that sound positive but carry hidden meaning. “Professional” can become shorthand for a specific style of speaking or dressing. “Articulate” can become a compliment aimed more at someone’s tone and accent than their thinking. “Confident” can become code for being comfortable around power. “Not quite ready” can become a vague label that blocks opportunity without giving a clear path to growth.
Even “work ethic” can become distorted. Many cultures reward responsiveness and visibility more than outcomes. The person who replies fastest is seen as committed. The person who takes longer, perhaps because they have limited connectivity or a packed commute, is seen as less hungry. Over time, this shapes who gets trusted with bigger work, who gets mentored, and who gets promoted.
It is worth sitting with this: when the yardstick is built around ease, the system will keep choosing people for whom work is easiest to navigate.
The cost is not only unfairness, it is performance
This is not only a social issue. It is a talent issue. When class bias shapes culture, organisations lose capable people in predictable ways.
Potential gets missed because early signals are misread. Retention suffers because high performers burn out from constantly trying to “sound right” and “look right”. Decision-making narrows because teams end up recruiting replicas of what already feels familiar. Innovation slows because different perspectives are filtered out under the polite label of fit.
A culture that rewards polish over progress can look impressive and still underperform. It can feel busy and still be mediocre. It can claim high standards while repeatedly choosing the safest option.
Raising the bar without raising the barriers
There is a fear that naming class bias means lowering standards. It does not. It means defining standards properly and removing requirements that have nothing to do with ability.
It starts with being honest about what is essential for the job, and what is simply a preference dressed up as professionalism. If a role truly requires specific tools, expecting candidates to already own those tools is not neutral. It is a filter. If reliable connectivity is required, treating it as a personal responsibility instead of an organisational resource shifts cost onto the candidate and then pretends it is fair.
Recruitment and promotion processes also matter. When interviews rely heavily on confidence, storytelling, and polish, they will favour people who have had more practice in formal environments. Structured interviews and clear scoring criteria do not remove human judgement, but they reduce the influence of bias masquerading as instinct.
The same applies to performance. If someone produces strong work reliably, it should matter more than whether they are always online or always available. The healthiest cultures reward outcomes, quality, collaboration, and follow-through, rather than rewarding the theatre of busyness.
A more honest question to ask
Company culture is built through what gets rewarded. If the people who thrive are always those with the most ease, the culture is not a meritocracy. It is a system that amplifies advantage.
A better question than “Who seems impressive?” is “Who is delivering value, and what obstacles did they have to overcome to do it?” Another useful question is “Which of our standards are genuinely about excellence, and which are simply about comfort and familiarity?”
Because if the workplace keeps confusing access with ability, it will keep hiring the least impeded instead of the most capable. And that is not high performance. That is just bias with good branding.
A workplace can look merit-based and still quietly reward comfort. Class bias rarely announces itself; it simply keeps choosing what feels familiar and calling it “high standards”. The real test of leadership is not whether you can spot talent when it arrives polished, but whether you can recognise it before the world has made it easy to see.
