Words: Parker Trainor (He/Him)
True progress lies in realising that the richness of Scottish academia depends not on neutralising our voices, but weaving them together.
‘not a Scot in sight’ … ‘as God intended’. You might assume this came from an anti-Jacobite leader or by an England fan at a World Cup knockout game (we’ll get there one day) – but you’d be wrong. These words appear in the comment section of the student-run Edinburgh Tab. Thankfully, The Tab apologised for the statements after realising that they were, in fact, in Scotland.
But why has this casual distaste towards Scots arisen? Being from Glasgow and attending UofG has been a life-changing opportunity for me. Being able to study at a world-class, global institution filled with people from every background, right in the city I grew up in – it makes me feel proud to be Scottish. But I can’t lie and say that I haven’t had to soften my accent in certain situations, or been asked to say ‘purple burglar alarm’ for the amusement of others. Even when it’s done in kindness or curiosity, it lands oddly; a small, almost imperceptible hint that certain ways of speaking are treated with playful interest, whilst others are granted authority.
Over the past 2 decades, Scotland’s universities have proudly branded themselves as global institutions. International student rates reached a peak in the academic year of 2022-23, with 29% of students coming from abroad. This diversity is a triumph; the cities are alive with a mix of accents, cultures, and cuisine. Yet a quieter tension emerges: familiar rhythms of Scottish speech – the casual use of ‘aye’ and ‘naw’ – can feel, paradoxically, out of place. The subtle pressure to soften your accent, to neutralise cultural markers and fit in, is all too common. In a place designed to showcase the world, belonging can feel curiously conditional – you’re welcome if you sound like everyone else, yet the thread thins if you sound like home.
Accent bias has long had larger implications for opportunity across the UK. “Received Pronunciation”, or “BBC accent”, has historically dictated how people from all over our Isles should speak. The Sutton Trust found in 2022 that people associate certain accents with positive or negative traits, creating an atmosphere of bias that disadvantages those who sound “different”. The aforementioned Edinburgh Tab scandal comes to mind. Such mockery suggests that being authentic can be framed as an amusing anomaly – even in Scotland. Microaggressions occur in subtler ways: the quiet sense that one’s dialect marks them as less professional in group discussions. Bit by bit, the urge to speak up can shrink, as if your own voice needs permission to belong in the room.
Sociologist Pierre Bourdieu called this “linguistic capital” – the idea that certain ways of speaking buy credibility, while others spend it. Speaking in a manner aligned with perceived prestige or neutrality confers authority. Embracing Scottishness, by contrast, can sometimes come with a social cost.
Yet, if universities recognise the value in Scottish accents rather than penalising them, they can transform these microaggressions into opportunities. Embracing local voices enriches discussions, community, and the very threads of academia.
As it turns out, the way that you pronounce ‘tutorial reading’ can be just as controversial as what you actually read. The Sutton Trust states that 30% of students have been mocked or ridiculed for their accent. This mockery can lead Scot speakers to develop softer accents, creating a sense of insecurity over how they present themselves. Over time, the voices that carry centuries of history, humour, and local colour risk being smoothed into something “safe” – something that they’re simply not.
A prominent example of this is the so-called “Glasgow Uni accent”. Softened T’s and, for some reason, calling people ‘dude’. A comfortable façade for those with the rougher accents to slip into, trying to assimilate toward the standardised “BBC tone”. So, do people with Scottish or “unique” accents have to strip away a whole part of their identity to make the most of university? Shouldn’t our accents and dialects be celebrated for their contribution to academic diversity? Identity, after all, should never be optional.
Thankfully, Scottish universities are beginning to address accent bias through concrete action. At Edinburgh, staff have undergone accent-bias training – making it the first UK university to implement such a program. This initiative aims to raise awareness and promote inclusivity within academic settings. Additionally, the Scottish Social Mobility Society actively supports Scottish students, particularly those from state school backgrounds. Through events and campaigns, the society raises awareness about the importance of social mobility and diversity.
While these measures mark significant progress, ongoing dialogue and continued commitment are essential to dismantle the deep-seated biases that persist. True progress lies in realising that the richness of Scottish academia depends not on neutralising our voices, but weaving them together.
My desire for this embrace of Scottishness does not come from the same ilk as the fearmongering Farage-footmen who line the streets with saltires, but comes from a place of inclusion. This embrace of our roots doesn’t come from a fear of so-called “foreign ideology” or nationalistic wet dreams of a “Tartan Utopia”. It comes from pride – not in exclusion, but in expression. From the courage to express one’s background in a space where conforming to accepted pronunciation feels like the norm. When every voice can sound like home, the fabric of academia doesn’t unravel – it becomes stronger, richer, and unmistakably authentic.
