Britain's professional middle class is being systematically dismantled. The allure of high-paying jobs at top quant firms has become the defining goal for many graduates, with salaries ranging from £250,000 to £800,000, making them unattainable for all but a select few.
This phenomenon is not unique to Britain, as seen in the US where top graduates join AI firms on even higher salaries. The financial sector's grip on talent is so strong that it deters people from pursuing traditional investment banking jobs, with even senior positions like JPMorgan and Goldman Sachs rarely attracting applicants.
As a result, modest salaries in once respectable professions now serve as a deterrent to aspiring professionals. Even graduate entrants to top City firms earn a median yearly salary of £33,000, which is barely above the minimum wage, a far cry from what they were taught to expect. Executives are now warning that university debt no longer yields a wage premium, and instead, firms will look to outsource roles or use AI to reduce costs.
This development has significant implications for the professions that have traditionally provided the backbone of the British middle class. The concentration of wealth at the top is growing, with a tiny elite capturing rents from financial capital, while many credentialed professionals are left earning little above the legal salary floor.
The problem runs deeper than just economic inequality; it also affects cultural aspirations and the justification of education. As finance's pull in Britain becomes even stronger, it shapes not only pay norms but also cultural values. This creates a sense of disconnection among white-collar workers who risk feeling economically precarious despite being culturally privileged.
This trend should worry politicians, as it suggests that a large segment of the professional class is becoming increasingly disillusioned with the system they were trained to serve. As the gap between those at the top and those further down grows, the potential for social unrest increases.
				
			This phenomenon is not unique to Britain, as seen in the US where top graduates join AI firms on even higher salaries. The financial sector's grip on talent is so strong that it deters people from pursuing traditional investment banking jobs, with even senior positions like JPMorgan and Goldman Sachs rarely attracting applicants.
As a result, modest salaries in once respectable professions now serve as a deterrent to aspiring professionals. Even graduate entrants to top City firms earn a median yearly salary of £33,000, which is barely above the minimum wage, a far cry from what they were taught to expect. Executives are now warning that university debt no longer yields a wage premium, and instead, firms will look to outsource roles or use AI to reduce costs.
This development has significant implications for the professions that have traditionally provided the backbone of the British middle class. The concentration of wealth at the top is growing, with a tiny elite capturing rents from financial capital, while many credentialed professionals are left earning little above the legal salary floor.
The problem runs deeper than just economic inequality; it also affects cultural aspirations and the justification of education. As finance's pull in Britain becomes even stronger, it shapes not only pay norms but also cultural values. This creates a sense of disconnection among white-collar workers who risk feeling economically precarious despite being culturally privileged.
This trend should worry politicians, as it suggests that a large segment of the professional class is becoming increasingly disillusioned with the system they were trained to serve. As the gap between those at the top and those further down grows, the potential for social unrest increases.