Taste and Distinction: How Class Shapes What We Like

Most people believe their music, food, fashion, and entertainment preferences are individual choices, shaped by personal experience or innate sensibilities. However, sociological research—particularly the work of Pierre Bourdieu—suggests that our tastes are profoundly influenced by social class. In his seminal work Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste, Bourdieu (1984)¹ argues that taste is not simply a reflection of personal preference but a marker of cultural capital, helping to reinforce class divisions.

This article explores how class influences our perception of "good" and "bad" taste, the ways cultural distinctions reinforce social exclusion, and why working-class culture is often dismissed—until it becomes fashionable among the elite. Later, we will bring in Goffman’s perspective to examine how individuals navigate and perform their tastes in different social settings.

The Myth of Individual Taste?

Bourdieu's concept of cultural capital explains how knowledge, behaviour, and tastes act as social currency, determining who fits into particular social circles. According to Bourdieu, cultural capital operates in tandem with habitus—the ingrained dispositions shaped by our upbringing, education, and environment. These determine not just what we like but also what we consider sophisticated or vulgar, authentic or derivative.

Importantly, taste does not develop in a vacuum. It is shaped by what we are exposed to and what is legitimised as "high culture" versus "low culture." For example:

• Classical music and fine art are widely regarded as more "refined" than pop music or graffiti art, despite all being creative forms of expression requiring skill and knowledge.
• Literature is stratified, with novels considered "literary fiction" (e.g., Booker Prize winners) viewed as more prestigious than commercial or genre fiction (e.g., thrillers, romance, fantasy).
• Food follows the same pattern: organic, locally sourced produce carries more status than fast food, despite both being functional sources of nutrition.

Bourdieu’s theory reveals that the preferences of the elite are framed as "universal" markers of good taste, while working-class tastes are often dismissed as unrefined or inferior.

Are there really distinctions in culture?

While Bourdieu’s theory remains influential, some scholars argue that distinctions between high and low culture are now more fluid. Several factors challenge his rigid framework:

• Cultural Omnivores and Blurred Boundaries – Peterson (1992)² suggests that elite groups now engage with both highbrow and lowbrow culture, accumulating cultural capital through versatility rather than strict adherence to elite tastes.
• Postmodernism and the Collapse of Cultural Hierarchies – Baudrillard (1983)³ and McRobbie (1994)⁴ challenge Bourdieu’s rigid high/low binary, arguing that stylistic bricolage has become an aesthetic in itself, making traditional legitimacy harder to define.
• Digital Media and the Democratisation of Taste – Lamont (2000)⁵ argues that mass media and digital platforms have further eroded traditional taste hierarchies, making cultural capital less tied to elite institutions.
• Taste as Performance – Goffman’s dramaturgical model suggests that taste is actively curated rather than an inherent marker of identity, as individuals present different cultural preferences in different social contexts.

While these perspectives challenge Bourdieu’s rigid high/low cultural divide, they do not erase hierarchy—omnivorous taste itself can act as a new form of distinction, with elites selectively engaging in mass culture while preserving their status.

Taste as a Marker of Class Identity

Taste is a key way in which social groups define themselves and draw boundaries between "us" and "them." These symbolic distinctions are visible across multiple cultural arenas:

• Music: Classical music, jazz, and indie rock are often positioned as "intellectual" or "authentic," while pop, grime, and reggaeton are frequently labelled as "lowbrow" or "commercial."
• Fashion: The trend of "quiet luxury"—minimalist, label-free designer clothing—is seen as a sign of wealth and sophistication, while flashy, logo-heavy brands (often favoured by working-class consumers) are viewed as "tacky."
• Media Consumption: Reading The Guardian or The Financial Times carries more cultural capital than reading The Sun or The Daily Star. Similarly, watching arthouse cinema is framed as a superior cultural pursuit compared to reality television.

These preferences are not inherently "better" or "worse," but they are framed as such in a way that serves class distinction.

A real-world example of how classed taste distinctions play out in cultural consumption is the media response to Taylor Swift’s relationship with NFL player Travis Kelce. Swift—positioned as a commercially successful yet middlebrow pop artist—has increasingly intersected with American football, a traditionally working-class sport associated with masculinity and national identity. This clash reveals a deeper class-coded divide in cultural legitimacy, where Swift’s middle-class, predominantly female fandom collides with the traditionally working-class, male-dominated sphere of the NFL.

• Traditional NFL fans (often coded as working-class) see Swift’s presence as an elite intrusion, a disruption of their cultural space by a figure whose fan culture is associated with teenage girls, emotional expression, and social media engagement—traits often dismissed as trivial compared to the “authentic” passion of male sports fans.
• Meanwhile, Swift’s largely middle-class, female fanbase reframes her presence as elevating the sport, treating it as an accessory to her cultural dominance, thereby positioning football within their sphere of legitimacy.
• This reaction exposes gendered and classed assumptions about cultural legitimacy—while men’s engagement with “highbrow” or elite culture (e.g., opera, fine wine, jazz) is seen as aspirational, women entering male-dominated cultural spaces face resistance, particularly when their fandom is coded as emotional or consumerist rather than analytical or traditional.

This aligns with Bourdieu’s argument that cultural legitimacy is not neutral, but a constant struggle over whose taste is considered refined or respectable. It also illustrates Goffman’s dramaturgical model, as both Swift and Kelce carefully curate their performance of taste depending on audience expectations—Swift engages with football to expand her mass appeal, while Kelce leans into pop culture for broader marketability.

Can Taste Transcend Class Boundaries?

While Bourdieu’s framework suggests that taste is a rigid marker of class identity, some scholars argue that cultural boundaries are becoming increasingly porous.

While class shapes access to cultural capital, individuals may actively construct their own tastes in ways that challenge social expectations. Exposure to diverse cultural influences can lead people to reject the cultural norms of their class background.

The rise of globalisation and digital culture has facilitated hybrid cultural spaces, where people from different backgrounds engage in shared cultural experiences, challenging rigid class distinctions. These spaces emerge where multiple cultural frameworks intersect, leading to innovative and creative adaptations.

Media and Streaming Platforms: Services like Netflix and YouTube provide access to diverse content, from arthouse cinema to mainstream reality TV, reducing clear-cut distinctions between "high" and "low" culture.

• Social Media Influences: Digital platforms blur class boundaries by making cultural trends accessible across demographics. A working-class TikTok user can influence middle-class audiences, shaping what is deemed fashionable or desirable.
• Urban and Commercial Spaces: Cultural hybridisation is evident in urban environments, where traditionally working-class food, fashion, and slang are integrated into middle-class consumer spaces, often in gentrified forms.

However, some scholars argue that rather than erasing class distinctions, hybrid cultural spaces create new forms of differentiation. Canclini (1995)⁶, in Hybrid Cultures: Strategies for Entering and Leaving Modernity, suggests that hybridisation often reinforces existing hierarchies, as dominant groups selectively integrate elements of marginalised cultures while maintaining control over cultural narratives. Similarly, Bhabha’s concept of the 'Third Space' (1994)⁷ explores how hybrid cultural spaces emerge from interactions between different cultural groups, creating new meanings and identities. However, Bhabha also acknowledges that these spaces are often shaped by power imbalances, where dominant groups influence how hybrid identities are represented and interpreted. This dynamic means that hybridisation does not necessarily equal cultural levelling but can serve to reproduce existing social hierarchies. While they may allow cross-class cultural exchange, elite groups still curate their engagement, ensuring their omnivorous consumption retains distinction.

These perspectives suggest that while class remains a powerful force in shaping taste, the increasing cross-pollination of cultural forms and the ability to self-curate cultural identities may complicate rigid class-based distinctions.

The Gatekeeping of Taste: Who Gets to Decide What’s “Good”?

According to Bourdieu, taste is not neutral—it is socially constructed and enforced by those in positions of cultural authority. Educational institutions, critics, and media outlets play a key role in defining what is considered "good taste" and what is deemed lowbrow, vulgar, or passé. This process of gatekeeping helps to reinforce class distinctions by limiting access to certain cultural spaces.

Those with cultural capital often have the privilege of shaping dominant aesthetic standards, deciding which cultural products are valued and which are marginalised. Middle- and upper-class individuals are more likely to be exposed to classical music, theatre, and literature from an early age, allowing them to develop a "natural" appreciation for high culture. This advantage translates into career and social benefits, particularly in fields such as journalism, academia, and diplomacy, where a background in high culture can function as an unspoken prerequisite for success.

Is Gatekeeping Always a Bad Thing?

While gatekeeping can function as a tool of exclusion, some argue that it also serves an important curatorial role in maintaining artistic and cultural standards. Without some level of critical distinction, cultural output might become homogenised or dominated by mass-market appeal rather than artistic merit. Scruton (1998)⁸ defends the idea of aesthetic hierarchy, arguing that cultural gatekeeping helps to preserve artistic excellence and prevent the dilution of creative disciplines. Similarly, Frith (1996)⁹ suggests that cultural critics play an essential role in shaping public discourse around art and music, helping audiences navigate an overwhelming array of cultural choices.

Moreover, not all cultural gatekeeping is class-based. Some forms of gatekeeping arise within subcultures as a way of maintaining authenticity and resisting commercialisation. For example, punk and hip-hop communities have long policed their own boundaries, critiquing the commodification of their styles by mainstream culture. In this sense, gatekeeping can be a means of protecting cultural identity rather than merely reinforcing elite dominance.

Although the process of defining "good taste" is often controlled by those in privileged positions, it is important to recognise that cultural evaluation and distinction are not inherently oppressive. The challenge lies in distinguishing between necessary artistic critique and exclusionary class-based gatekeeping, where cultural legitimacy is determined by factors unrelated to artistic or intellectual merit.

The Performance of Taste: Bringing in Goffman

While Bourdieu’s theory explains how taste is structured by class, Goffman’s work on impression management offers insight into how individuals perform their tastes in different social settings. According to Goffman’s dramaturgical perspective, social life is like a stage, where individuals carefully curate their self-presentation depending on their audience.

• Face-Work and Cultural Capital: People often tailor their tastes to fit into their social environments. Someone from a working-class background who enters a middle-class professional space may downplay their preference for reality television and instead highlight their interest in literary fiction.  As previously discussed, Peterson’s (1992) cultural omnivore thesis suggests that elite consumers are now more eclectic in their tastes. However, Goffman’s (1959)¹⁰ dramaturgical model suggests that omnivorousness itself may be a carefully curated performance rather than a true breakdown of class barriers.
• Taste as Social Performance: Middle-class individuals may develop a taste for jazz or wine appreciation not purely out of enjoyment, but because these preferences signal cultural sophistication in professional and social settings.
• Cultural Mimicry and Exclusion: Those unfamiliar with elite tastes may attempt to "fake it" by adopting dominant cultural markers, yet missteps—such as mispronouncing a fine wine or using the wrong terminology in an art discussion—can expose their outsider status, leading to social embarrassment or exclusion.

This demonstrates that taste is not just about what we enjoy, but also about how we want to be perceived. People are constantly adjusting their cultural preferences to signal their belonging in different social contexts.

The Reversal of Distinction: When Working-Class Culture Becomes Trendy

Ironically, the same cultural markers that are dismissed as "low-class" are often appropriated by the elite once they become fashionable. This phenomenon—sometimes referred to as cultural gentrification—sees elements of working-class culture rebranded for middle-class consumption.

Food trends provide a striking example of this shift. Once considered a sign of poverty, dishes such as "gourmet" street food or rebranded versions of traditional working-class meals (e.g., artisanal fish and chips or £10 full English breakfasts) become desirable when marketed towards wealthier consumers. Similarly, "streetwear"—hoodies, trainers, and tracksuits—has been transformed into luxury fashion, often at exorbitant prices, despite its roots in working-class youth culture. Language, too, follows this pattern, with regional dialects and slang being selectively adopted by middle-class individuals in ironic or detached ways, even while working-class speakers of the same dialects face discrimination in professional settings.

This selective embrace of working-class culture reveals a power imbalance: middle-class individuals have the privilege of "sampling" these aesthetics without carrying the same stigma that working-class people face when engaging in them.

A striking example of class-based cultural appropriation is the way middle-class consumers engage with Wetherspoons pubs.

• For working-class patrons, Wetherspoons is functional, providing affordable, no-frills drinking spaces outside of upmarket hospitality culture.
• However, for middle-class consumers, Wetherspoons is often rebranded as a cultural experience—engaged with ironically, documented on social media, and transformed into an aestheticised “working-class adventure.”
• This dynamic plays out through university students and young professionals posting ironic reviews of Wetherspoons carpets, menu items, and “Spoons pints”, treating the space as a quirky spectacle rather than a lived necessity.

This demonstrates Bourdieu’s core argument: when working-class cultural spaces are selectively engaged with by middle-class consumers, they gain ironic prestige while remaining devalued in their original context. Those who genuinely rely on Wetherspoons as an accessible drinking space face stigma (“cheap,” “uncultured”), whereas those who visit it ironically are framed as playful cultural adventurers.

This aligns with Goffman’s concept of taste as performance, as middle-class individuals carefully curate their “omnivorous” engagement with working-class culture—sampling it in ways that reinforce their own social distinction rather than eroding class boundaries.

The same pattern emerges across other cultural forms:

• Grime music and streetwear become high-fashion when appropriated by elite taste makers.
• Artisanal versions of working-class food (e.g., “gourmet” street food, sourdough, £12 fry-ups) signal culinary sophistication rather than necessity.
• Regional dialects or slang are embraced in a detached, ironic way by middle-class consumers, while working-class speakers face discrimination in professional settings.

The core distinction is control—middle-class consumers can “play” at working-class culture without consequence, while those who live it daily remain stigmatised.

Is Cultural Appropriation Always Negative?

While cultural appropriation and the gentrification of working-class aesthetics are often viewed as exploitative, some scholars argue that cultural exchange is a natural and inevitable process in an increasingly globalised society. Rather than being purely extractive, the hybridisation of cultural forms can foster greater appreciation and legitimacy for marginalised cultural expressions.

For example, some argue that mainstreaming streetwear has allowed for greater representation of working-class and minority designers in the fashion industry. Similarly, the increased appreciation of traditional working-class foods has led to the economic revitalisation of local businesses and culinary traditions. From a postmodernist perspective, cultural boundaries are always fluid, and the blending of styles and influences reflects the dynamic nature of taste rather than a straightforward form of class exploitation.

Furthermore, Bhabha’s (1994) concept of the "Third Space" suggests that cultural borrowing creates new hybrid identities rather than simply reinforcing existing hierarchies. Rather than being a one-way process where dominant groups exploit working-class culture, cultural gentrification can sometimes provide a platform for historically marginalised voices, allowing them to gain visibility and economic power in new cultural fields.

However, the critical distinction remains on who benefits from cultural exchange. The process remains fundamentally unequal when working-class creators are excluded from profiting off their cultural innovations while wealthier individuals capitalise on their aesthetics. Therefore, the challenge is ensuring that cultural exchange does not erase the voices of those who originated these cultural practices but amplifies and supports them.  While appropriation often benefits elite consumers, there are also examples of resistance, such as working-class artists reclaiming authenticity in music, fashion, and language, resisting commodification by mainstream culture.

Conclusion: Can Taste Ever Be Classless?

Bourdieu’s theory of distinction suggests that taste will always be linked to social class, as cultural hierarchies remain deeply embedded in society. Meanwhile, Goffman’s work highlights how taste is not just a passive marker of status but an active social performance, tailored to different audiences.

While class undeniably shapes cultural capital, the increasing hybridisation of taste, digital influence, and omnivorous consumption complicates rigid distinctions.
Yet, even as cultural boundaries blur, the gatekeepers of taste remain—ensuring that class distinctions do not fade but adapt to new forms.

References

• ↩ ³ Baudrillard, J. (1983). Simulations.
• ↩ ⁷ Bhabha, H. K. (1994). The Location of Culture.
• ↩ ¹ Bourdieu, P. (1984). Distinction: A Social Critique of the Judgement of Taste.
• ↩ ⁶ Canclini, N. G. (1995). Hybrid Cultures: Strategies for Entering and Leaving Modernity.
• ↩ ⁹ Frith, S. (1996). Performing Rites: On the Value of Popular Music.
• ↩ ¹⁰ Goffman, E. (1959). Presentation of Self in Everyday Life.
• ↩ ⁵ Lamont, M. (2000). Dignity of Working Men: Morality and the Boundaries of Race, Class, and Immigration.
• ↩ ⁴ McRobbie, A. (1994). Postmodernism and Popular Culture.
• ↩ ² Peterson, R. (1992). Understanding audience segmentation: From elite and mass to omnivore and univore. 🔗
• ↩ ⁸ Scruton, R. (1998). An Intelligent Person’s Guide to Modern Culture.