spiring writers from working-class backgrounds,” argues a new report, Common People: Breaking the Class Ceiling in UK Publishing, “are at a disadvantage when trying to develop their creative careers.” Barriers include a paucity of cultural capital, a lack of contacts and low self-confidence. The report is part of a project, initiated by novelist Kit de Waal, to open up publishing. Two years ago, she edited a collection of stories by working-class writers, also called Common People. There is an obvious lack of a working-class presence in many spheres of life. Discussion about the barriers to working-class writers is necessary and welcome. There are, however, pitfalls in the diversity approach, as revealed by the long-running debate about the lack of minority voices in the arts. Too often, the solution to a lack of diversity is seen as a box-ticking exercise that defines certain types of voices as “authentic” and, in so doing, excludes many who are deemed the wrong kind of minority voice to fit the box. Often, too, the question about diversity is reduced to “Is your life reflected back to you in literature?” The result is that minority writers become ghettoised. As an (Asian) playwright said to me: “I want to write a play about the moon landing. But all that producers want from me are plays about Asian families.” Similarly, working-class imagination is too frequently regarded as limited to the experience of council estates or northern towns. In discussions of “diversity”, class is often ignored. But in opening up more space for working-class voices, we should be careful not to erect new barriers that constrain the imagination. • Kenan Malik is an Observer columnist