Symbolic Violence
The Hidden Force Behind Social Inequality
When we think about violence, we often imagine physical force - conflict, aggression, or visible harm. But violence can also operate in far subtler ways, through culture, language, and social norms. One of the most pervasive yet often invisible forms of violence is what sociologist Pierre Bourdieu called Symbolic Violence.
Symbolic violence is the subtle domination that exists within everyday social practices and interactions. It’s the invisible power exerted by dominant groups in society over marginalised groups, shaping how people think, speak, and act - without them even realising it. In this post, I want to explore what symbolic violence is, how it works, and how it affects different areas of life. We’ll also take a look at some real-world examples to bring this concept to life.
What Is Symbolic Violence?
Symbolic violence happens when people internalise social norms, values, and expectations imposed by dominant groups, often without realising it. This type of violence is not physical, but it’s no less harmful. It operates through the very structures of society: through our education systems, media, language, and cultural expectations. Symbolic violence is effective because it convinces people to accept their place in the social hierarchy as natural or deserved, even when that place disadvantages them.
Bourdieu’s insight is that symbolic violence is a key mechanism by which inequalities in society are maintained. It doesn’t require the threat of physical harm or punishment; rather, it works by shaping our beliefs about what is “right,” “normal,” or “valuable.” In other words, it creates the conditions in which people consent to their own domination.
How Symbolic Violence Works
To understand symbolic violence, we need to think about how people in different social classes or groups learn to view the world. Dominant groups (such as the upper or middle classes, or those in positions of power) often define what is valuable or desirable in society. Whether it’s the way we speak, the type of education we receive, or even our aesthetic preferences, those who hold power shape the standards.
On the other hand, marginalised or working-class groups often accept these values as the norm - even when they disadvantage them. This acceptance of inequality is at the heart of symbolic violence: it’s not forced on people, but rather subtly ingrained through cultural practices and institutions.
Examples of Symbolic Violence
Symbolic violence exists in many facets of everyday life. Below are a few concrete examples to illustrate how this concept plays out in reality.
Language and Accent
Language is a powerful tool of symbolic violence. Certain accents, dialects, or ways of speaking are considered more “proper” or prestigious, while others are devalued. For example, in many English-speaking countries, people who speak with a regional accent or a non-standard dialect are often judged as less educated or less competent. This judgement is not based on their actual skills or intelligence, but on the social prestige attached to certain ways of speaking.
Imagine a job interview. A candidate with a strong regional accent may feel pressure to speak with a more “neutral” accent, believing that this will make them appear more competent. This internalisation of language standards is symbolic violence at work. It reinforces the idea that some forms of communication are superior, even though language is simply a reflection of diverse social and cultural experiences.
Education and Cultural Capital
Schools and universities are another powerful site of symbolic violence. Educational systems tend to privilege the knowledge, behaviours, and ways of thinking of the dominant social class. This means that students from working-class or minority backgrounds are often at a disadvantage, not because they are less intelligent or capable, but because the cultural capital they bring - meaning their habits, tastes, and social experiences - doesn’t align with the dominant expectations.
For instance, children from wealthier families often have access to more cultural resources, such as books, museums, and extracurricular activities that enrich their education. In contrast, students from less privileged backgrounds might not have these experiences, but they are often judged by standards set by the dominant culture. When they struggle to meet these expectations, they might come to believe that they are less capable or worthy - this is symbolic violence in action.
Why Is Symbolic Violence So Powerful?
One of the reasons symbolic violence is so powerful is that it is often invisible, even to those who are affected by it. Unlike physical violence, which is easy to see and resist, symbolic violence works by shaping our perceptions of what is possible, valuable, or legitimate. People internalise these ideas, often believing that their place in society is deserved, rather than imposed. This internalisation of inequality makes resistance difficult because people are not always aware of the forces that shape their choices.
The Path Forward: Awareness and Resistance
Understanding symbolic violence is the first step in resisting it. By becoming aware of the ways in which society imposes norms and values that maintain inequality, we can begin to question those structures. Whether it’s challenging the idea that certain accents or dialects are inferior, advocating for more equitable educational systems, or resisting gender stereotypes, awareness can help us push back against the subtle forces of domination.
From an early age, I understood this concept on a personal level, not through academic theory, but through my own experiences. Maybe it’s because I’ve always had a natural tendency to question the status quo and push back against societal expectations. I rejected the idea that my worth or potential could be determined by external forces. While I am fully aware of the hidden systems of power that shape the world around us, I’ve made a conscious choice not to let them define my beliefs or sense of self.
But awareness alone doesn’t make resistance easy. I still grapple with the weight of symbolic violence, especially in the corporate workplace, where I hold neither power nor the privilege of belonging to the dominant group. What complicates this struggle further is that my upbringing reflects many aspects of the dominant group’s culture. This duality creates a dissonance — on one hand, I can clearly see the mechanisms of power and inequality, but on the other, I find myself navigating spaces where the very culture I critique has shaped my socialisation. Reconciling these tensions isn’t just difficult; it’s an ongoing process of questioning my place in systems that simultaneously marginalise and shape me.
