In a postwar estate known as ‘The Nunny’, residents live in properties just a few metres from their more affluent counterparts in nearby Scartho village. One six-foot-tall wall physically separates the two communities in Grimsby, Lincolnshire, blocking off paths and streets that previously connected them.
“It’s the posh-poor divide,” said a resident, 37. “It’s been like this for as long as I’ve known. I don’t think they’ll take it down because I suspect they’ll want to mix with us.”
Data from official figures reveals how deep inequality can run, sometimes over nothing more than a short distance of asphalt, a line of hedges or a barrier. Decades of budget cuts and underinvestment mean almost two-thirds of councils now contain a locality classified as one of the most deprived in the nation.
This geographical widening of poverty has coincided with a significant rise in the number of locations where deprived and well-off people find themselves as immediate neighbours. Just a few years ago, only 65 of the poorest neighbourhoods adjoined one of the wealthiest. This number rose to 119 in the most recent data.
In Grimsby, the gap is the biggest in the country and starkly apparent. The wall is much more than a symbolic divide; it causes tangible difficulties for everyday life.
“People strive to maintain a well-kept home and garden, and then you live opposite that,” said one local, motioning at the corroded metal wall.
At a local community centre, workers stress that need transcends postcodes. “Where you live is not a reliable indicator of your level of challenge,” said chief executive a community leader.
Regardless of being placed in the lowest 10% for income, employment, education, health and crime, Nunsthorpe retains a fierce loyalty and sense of community among its residents. By contrast, Scartho ranks among the least deprived 10% nationally.
This pattern is mirrored nationally. The Stanhope estate in Kent, a mid-century housing development, is in the most disadvantaged tenth of areas in England. It is immediately adjacent by large houses built in the early 2000s that sit in the wealthiest tenth for employment and living environment.
“They may possess bigger houses, but here there’s a stronger community,” commented Phil Hockley, aged 63. “It’s likely many people in the new builds never even talk to each other.”
The economic divide is clear: an average family home costs about £275,000 on the Stanhope estate, while on the other side equivalent homes go for about £410,000.
Residents describe a tangible sense of neglect. “This part of the community is neglected,” stated holistic health worker Susan Riley-Nevers. “In this area our facilities have slowly been taken away, and the majority of the community problems here are related to financial hardship.”
The increase in these ‘deprivation divides’ presents a portrait of an ever more segregated society, where prosperity and need are frequently uncomfortably close neighbours.