4.1. Social Haunting
As previously discussed, the North East was one of the hardest hit regions of England by the industrial decline of the late 20th century. This has left the region as one of the toughest places to find employment [
32], with educational drop-out rates the highest in the country [
33], NEET rates consistently above the national average [
36], and some of the highest rates of child poverty in the country [
94]. When discussing this with the young people who were part of this research, hopeful to hear their insights and perspectives, one of their explanations appeared surprising: Margret Thatcher. Perhaps naively, we had not considered that the impact the Thatcher-led Conservative government (1979–1990) had would still be reverberating so explicitly in the region, and indeed that the young people would be politically aware enough to pinpoint Thatcher as the source of the issue. When discussed with the group, it was clear they still felt the bruises of the historical social violence, in a way Gordon [
52] would describe as “social haunting”: a repressed or unresolved social violence, making itself known and demanding the attention of people or a society whose past trauma informs the present. Asked if they still felt the effects of the mines closing down, the group gave a unanimous response in unison, “
Yes!”, “
Yeah”, “
Aye!”.
Young people being socially haunted by the effects of deindustrialization is also present elsewhere in the country. The young people within these communities have a clear sense of struggle, feeling excluded from employment [
53]. There is an observation that young people in these communities are reprising the repertoire of their collective past, and that young people, frustrated by their situation, pinpoint the miners’ strike as the source of the problem [
54].
While little is known about the long-term effects of social haunting and how it is passed from generation to generation, its effects are clear to see in deindustrialized communities in the UK. Atkins’ [
95] work with Level 1 learners includes a contribution from a lecturer at an FE college in an ex-mining community. The lecturer describes fathers who are unhappy if their son appears to be doing better than them. They follow this by suggesting that some fathers actively discourage education in order to maintain a “status quo in terms of [the] family hierarchy…” [
95] (p. 198). North of the border, in Scotland, McGarvey [
96] discusses the lasting outcomes of rapid deindustrialization on communities in Glasgow. While McGarvey does not explicitly recognize this as a form of social haunting, the language they use aligns with Gordon’s [
52] epistemology of social haunting. In addition, their description mirrors the observations of Bright [
53,
54], who observed social haunting in ex-mining communities in South Yorkshire—precarious communities, demoralized by rising unemployment, and lack of opportunity:
“Thousands of families, already struggling to make ends meet, were placed under so much strain that it altered them physically, psychologically and emotionally. What was left of the local economy adapted to supply the community’s mutating demands; off licences, pubs, chip shops, licenced bingo halls, bookmakers and, latterly, drug dealers, provided temporary relief from the grim reality of deindustrialisation.”
However, not all young people who are experiencing social haunting appear aware of the source. Observing the effects of social haunting within young (ages 3–11) children, Simpson and Simmons [
97] note that the young people in their research do not recognize the pit closures as the source of their haunting but appear no less affected. They do not understand the history, but are living in the wake, influenced by it in a way that affects their methods of communication, shared humour, mindset towards education and employment, and an othering of those considered outsiders [
66].
While the source of haunting within their communities is recognized by most, it is clear the youngest in society do not yet appear aware of the cause. Referring back to Messiou’s [
89] concepts of marginalization, these young people appear to be in a marginalized situation, but do not feel it, nor perhaps do they view it as marginalization. Perhaps in time, they will? Linkon [
98] (p. 2) discusses a “half-life” of the effects of deindustrialization, where its influence may wane slowly over time, but remains potent, persistent, and cannot simply be forgotten nor ignored. Perhaps then, over time, the haunting will become what Bourdieu would describe as doxa, the “taken for granted” [
99] (p. 169) reality in which the cause of the haunting becomes unquestioned. Will the social violence that ruptured the previous doxic state [
100] become unquestioned, taken for granted, recognized as the norm, seen as the way things are [
101]? While this is a difficult question to answer while the cause of the haunting is still in living memory, it is clear that the lasting legacy of rapid deindustrialization continues to “…underpin systems, structures and relations of work and leisure…” [
66] (p. 140) in the communities that continue to feel the effects of past social violence.
4.2. The Ghost as a “Social Figure”
Like hauntings in the paranormal world, it is clear social haunting can present itself in many formats. While this research, and the research of others, primarily focusses on how it presents itself in communities living with the effects of rapid deindustrialization, it is not just about mining and coal. The work of McGarvey [
96], Daley [
102], and indeed Morrin [
100] outlines communities and individuals haunted by a variety of different ghosts, as they come to terms with historical social violence. It shows that social haunting affects a much wider range of the population than that initially identified by Bright [
53,
54]. We know very little about how the hauntings occur, and the effects on the communities that experience them. It is clear that more research is needed to truly understand the lasting effects of social haunting due to past social violence—particularly how it is experienced and presented in those who have inherited it from previous generations, “…for whom the reality of deindustrialization is often unmediated by compensations of the past” [
103] (p. 29). There is currently limited research that explicitly focusses on the effects the inherited haunting is having on young people and if/how it is influencing their learning journey and educational careers. Understanding the haunting, in its many forms, be it underlying and residual, or overtly painful, can be a way of addressing it in a meaningful and pragmatic way.
4.3. Masculinity and Deindustrialization
While our work did not set out to explore male experiences of deindustrialization, our participants—albeit by chance—all identified as male, and this warrants some discussion. Linkon [
104] suggests that young men growing up in deindustrialized communities not only inherit a loss of employment opportunities but also register a loss of masculine role models. She argues that young men face “significant challenges as they attempt to reconstruct masculinity” [
104] (p. 150) in a landscape devoid of the heavy labour and industrial work that informed and defined masculinity for previous generations. For young men coming of age in deindustrialized communities in the United Kingdom, there appears to be a disconnect between the behaviours required for a successful future and the localized acceptable forms of masculinity informed by industrial heritage [
64,
65]. For many, the traditional working class masculine values of stoicism, risk taking, and toughness [
57] associated with heavy industrial work have been channelled into alternative outputs. This appears to be predominantly presenting itself as a portfolio of troubling “laddish” (and somewhat deficit-framed) behaviours such as frequent binge drinking, fighting, drug taking, promiscuity [
57,
59,
60,
64,
65,
105], and the potential for increased involvement in organized criminality [
106].
Within the North East of England, the typically masculine industries of mining, shipbuilding, and fishing have been replaced with an expansion of roles in the service sector and hospitality. These roles include waiting tables, administration, bar work, and call centre customer service representative [
60,
107]. The outcome of this is that the once valorised bodily capital—physical attributes such as strength [
108]—required to successfully undertake heavy manual work is no longer prioritized by employers, who instead demand skills in areas such as IT and communication [
107]. For the young men who have managed to adapt to these new demands, the focus of their masculinity appears to have been moved away from
production and towards
consumption. This is demonstrated in the work of Nayak [
60], whose “real” Geordie (a colloquial term for someone from the Tyneside area of North East England) males were keen to demonstrate their masculinity by proving they could “handle themselves” in the arenas of drinking, fighting, and sexual conquests. However, the working-class young men who remained un/underemployed appeared to be pilloried and described homogenously as chavs/charvers—a form of “folk devil” [
109] viewed as deviants, outsiders, and scapegoated as the cause of crime and social problems—by those who have managed to modify their habitus to the demands of post-industrial life [
60]. These negative connotations are largely rejected by those labelled as such [
110], and for many individuals, their cultural tastes in things such as music and fashion that align with the chav/charver label are an embodiment of the subcultural capital required to successfully navigate localized social spaces [
111].
For our participants, who are a generation younger than the North East males portrayed in the work of Nayak [
60,
107], their desire to embody and reproduce the traditional masculine values of heavy industry appears less explicit. While they all registered the significant loss of employment opportunities due to deindustrialization in the 20th century, their frustration appeared more at the loss of opportunity than at the loss of specific “masculine” job roles. At an earlier research encounter [
1], we had discussed their imagined futures, and almost all had identified job roles working in the creative industries—predominantly in performance roles such as musician or DJ. Where they did align with the historic regional working-class masculine values was in their desire for rapid entry into employment from school. They saw this as a route to a “better” life, and many of the participants had previously [
1] identified being a “breadwinner” and the head of a household as a signifier of successful male adulthood. In many ways, our young male participants were not dissimilar to those in the work of Roberts [
112], whose participants challenged the notion that employment away from traditional masculine roles and physical labour “compromised” maleness. Our young men were trying to navigate the requirements for a successful future, while feeling tethered to a shared regional history informed by the social, cultural, and economic legacy of deindustrialization.