Opinion
The working class isn’t woke. That’s a huge problem for the leftParties of the left must decide whether they will continue to prioritise urban issues or once again embrace the economic challenges facing the working poor. Or both.
Updated Nov 7, 2024 – 2.23pm,
first published at 1.18pm
The 2024 US election has shocked many around the world with Donald Trump’s return to the presidency. But his victory should not be seen as an isolated American phenomenon.
Across many Western democracies, we are witnessing a profound realignment: low-income, working-class voters, once staunch supporters of the political left, are increasingly turning to conservative and populist leaders.
This shift is part of a global trend, a growing backlash against parties of the left, which have moved away from the bread-and-butter economic issues that traditionally united working-class communities and instead focused on the priorities of an educated, cosmopolitan demographic.
In the United States, Trump has capitalised on this disconnection, resonating with voters who feel economically left behind and politically ignored.

Donald Trump has resonated with voters who feel economically left behind and politically ignored. David Rowe
The former blue-collar backbone of the Democratic Party, including Rust Belt states and rural communities, has realigned itself with Trump’s populist message, drawn by his promises to prioritise American jobs, limit globalisation, and tackle the economic stagnation gripping many working-class communities, including many diverse communities.
This realignment has not just reshaped American politics but is echoed across Western democracies, including Australia’s, where low-income voters have similarly been shifting to conservative or minor party alternatives.
The recent Queensland state election offers a striking example of this phenomenon in Australia.
While Labor retained its grip on the inner and middle suburbs of Brisbane, appealing to professional, well-educated, urban voters, it lost ground in traditional heartland seats, where economic concerns and frustrations over cost-of-living pressures took precedence.
Supercharging this sentiment was also a profound belief by some voters that Labor was no longer focused on their economic wellbeing, nor the prosperity of their family and community.
Losing the state seats of Mackay and Rockhampton should have sent shockwaves throughout the Labor Party, right across the country. It did not.
Similarly, in the 2022 Victorian state election, Labor performed strongly in Melbourne’s inner and middle suburbs while bleeding support in outer, traditionally Labor-leaning suburbs.
These were the same communities where very diverse blue-collar workers once found champions in parties of the left, advocating for labour rights, fair wages, and social support systems. Now, these voters and their children are actively seeking ways to rebel against and unseat Labor MPs.
In that election, Labor saw up to a 20 per cent drop in its primary vote in seats that were once secured within the first hour of counting. Again, it should have sent shockwaves throughout the Labor Party. It did not.
This is not just a trend but a redefinition of political identity in Western democracies.
Why are these shifts happening? Why are the now constant warning signs being ignored?
Much of it has to do with the changing face of the left. Across the West, political parties that once represented the working poor now find themselves dominated by members of the educated, cosmopolitan class, especially in large urban centres.
Their priorities have shifted to reflect the values and concerns of their new base: climate action, social justice, and urban housing policies. While these issues are important, the economic struggles of low-income workers, such as rising housing costs, stagnant wages, declining life expectancy, and job insecurity have taken a back seat.
Parties that once fought for the working class are now, in many cases, more focused on social issues that resonate with their new, more urban professional support base.
This trend has deepened the divide between urban and rural voters, and between professionals and blue-collar workers, creating fertile ground for conservative and populist leaders.
Leaders such as Trump, Marine Le Pen in France, and Nigel Farage in the UK have stepped in to fill the void, speaking to those who feel left behind by globalisation, unheard in urban-centric political agendas, and overburdened by rising living costs.
These leaders often frame their campaigns as battles against elitism, globalism, and out-of-touch bureaucrats, promising instead to deliver “common sense” solutions for everyday people.
For parties of the left, this shift presents a major dilemma. Many are struggling to pivot back to the economic concerns of working-class voters because they are increasingly made up of activists, staff, and representatives from urban, middle-class backgrounds.
Their worldviews and policy priorities are shaped in large part by these urban enclaves, making it difficult for them to authentically champion the material concerns of the working poor in rural and outer suburban areas.
If parties of the left fail to reconnect with working-class voters, who are diverse, the consequences will be far-reaching. The working poor will continue to align with conservative and populist movements, reshaping political landscapes, as seen in the US, Australia, and beyond.
This is not just a trend but a redefinition of political identity in Western democracies. Parties of the left must decide whether they will continue to prioritise urban issues, or once again embrace the economic challenges facing the working poor. Or both.
Until then, leaders such as Trump will continue to win over the voters the left once proudly called their own.
Vice President Kamala Harris called Donald Trump on Thursday to concede victory.