When I started university, I kept hearing the same question over and over again. By the end of Freshers’ week, I started to understand that “sorry, I don’t understand what you’re saying” wasn’t a sign I was speaking too quietly. It was a comment on my accent.
After three years of accent discrimination at Oxford, I did what any sensible individual would do – I made a TikTok complaining about it. Half a million views later, I had comments and messages from people who had faced similar experiences at universities all across the UK. The comments were all too revealing about the negative stereotypes surrounding regional accents with comments on “Northern accents [being] funny” and “chav” accents being incomprehensible.
Accent bias remains deeply embedded in academic institutions, where a hierarchy of accent prestige continues to shape perceptions. Unfortunately, the way we speak still plays a significant role in how we are judged, and within higher education, students with regional accents frequently encounter discriminatory attitudes. A 2022 report by the Sutton Trust examining accent bias and public perception found that accents linked to England’s former industrial cities, such as Manchester, Liverpool, and Birmingham, continue to attract “working-class” stereotypes and are viewed more negatively. The report also highlights those with accents associated with an ethnic minority identity, such as Afro-Caribbean and Indian English, are also subject to significant prejudice.
Students from London and the South dominate Oxford admissions, with 58.6% of UK offers going to students from these regions. Students from the Midlands, North of England, Wales, Scotland, and Northern Ireland are particularly underrepresented, and at an elite and prestigious university like Oxford, they often experience prejudice towards their accents, both academically and socially. At the end of my first year in Oxford, the comments on my Mancunian accent started to affect my self esteem. I became anxious to speak in tutorials and when meeting new people.
With only 7.6% of Oxford students coming from the North West, I struggled to find others with a similar accent. I tried to slow down when I spoke, emphasising my h’s, and would apologise when people told me they couldn’t understand what I had said, thinking it would be easier to blend in rather than stand out in this Southern crowd. So, I was rather confused when I went home to visit my friends, only to be told my accent had changed and I sounded “posh”, even though my accent was apparently all too noticeable at Oxford.
However, Oxford isn’t the only academic institution where students are facing accent bias. If you follow the world of StudyTok, you may have come across a fellow Northern friend of mine, Robyn (@robynlikeshistory), currently studying Theology at Durham University. In the comments of my TikTok, she shared that her Northern accent has been mocked whilst studying at a university in the North. We spoke about her experience of accent discrimination in an academic setting, how she had been told in seminars that people could not understand her, and the regional split between colleges, with one of Durham’s colleges being “considered so posh and private school and Southern that it’s genuinely a big trend for state educated & Northern students to rank it last”.
Robyn’s experience of facing discrimination from university peers toward the local accent she grew up with, even in the place where it originates, isn’t an uncommon one. Scottish students at the University of Edinburgh recently launched the Scottish Social Mobility Society in response to a long history of “deep-rooted classism and exclusion faced by Scottish students”. Robyn’s experience, alongside those of Scottish students at Edinburgh, makes it clear that accent bias is far from rare. According to the Sutton Trust, “self-consciousness and anxiety about accent bias are highest during university, particularly when approaching the end of a degree and facing entry into a chosen career”. The psychological impact of accent bias is something we carry with us beyond university and academic institutions have to work to eradicate it.
Put simply, my accent isn’t simply a way of speaking; it’s a signifier of my upbringing and something I choose to celebrate as a symbol of where I call home. I am proud to be a Mancunian and I love my Northern accent. I wish those ignorant notions of what an ‘educated’ student should sound like hadn’t impacted me as much as they did, but, in my final year at Oxford, I am learning what it means to enter a room and face that prejudice. More importantly, I have learned how to respond to these comments and deconstruct ideas of what a ‘well-spoken’ student sounds like.

