A working-class hero is indeed something to be, something worth celebrating, especially these days, in the nepo-baby era when family connections and mummy and daddy’s money appear the only sure path to success in life.

But here’s what’s not worth celebrating: the wine-bar populist ponces who hijack the working class for their own petty power-trips and self-aggrandisement; who pose as men of the people (it’s mostly a male pursuit) while privately sneering at the folk they claim to represent.

Nigel Farage is one such fake. This stockbroker’s son who went to private school, then worked in high finance before figuring out that political con-tricks were more lucrative than commodities trading, has challenged Keir Starmer to a debate in a working men’s club.

I’m not here to defend Starmer, the man is driving this country into the arms of dangerous charlatans like Farage. However, the notion of Farage as some tribune of the people makes me puke.

He had the sheer bloody cheek to say: “Whether the Prime Minister will enjoy a few beers with the lads and do the Channel 4 racing in the afternoon, I’m not sure – but I’m very happy to do so.”

This patronising crap infuriates me. I grew up working class, I’ve spent my career reporting on the lives of working-class people, and I remain someone who’s a part of the working class.

Read more by Neil Mackay

The idea that the working class is just a bunch of men who go to the pub and gamble on the horses is sheer,........

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