In a postwar estate known as ‘The Nunny’, residents live in properties only several yards from their wealthier counterparts in nearby Scartho village. A six-foot-tall wall literally divides the two areas in Grimsby, Lincolnshire, sealing off paths and streets that previously linked them.
“This is the posh-poor divide,” said Serenity Colley, 37. “It’s been like this since I’ve known. I doubt they’ll take it down because I don’t think they’ll want to mix with us.”
Analysis of government statistics reveals how deep inequality can run, sometimes over little more than a few metres of tarmac, a line of hedges or a wall. Years of austerity and underinvestment have led to a situation where a majority of local authorities now contain a neighbourhood classified as one of the most deprived in the country.
This spread of deprivation has led to a sharp rise in the number of locations where deprived and affluent residents find themselves as immediate neighbours. Just a few years ago, only 65 of the most deprived neighbourhoods bordered one of the least deprived. That figure increased to 119 in the latest data.
In Grimsby, the divide is the most pronounced in the country and starkly apparent. The wall is much more than a symbolic divide; it causes very real problems for daily routines.
“People strive to have a well-kept home and garden, and then you reside facing that,” noted one local, motioning at the rusted metal wall.
At Centre4, workers emphasise that support does not recognise addresses. “Your postcode is not a reliable indicator of your level of challenge,” said chief executive Tracey Good.
Regardless of being placed in the most deprived 10% for multiple deprivation indicators, Nunsthorpe retains a fierce loyalty and sense of togetherness among its residents. Meanwhile, Scartho is classified among the most prosperous 10% overall.
This pattern is mirrored nationally. The Stanhope estate in Kent, a mid-century housing development, is in the 10% most deprived of neighbourhoods in the country. It is closely bordered by spacious detached homes built in the 2000s that sit in the top 10% for job prospects and quality of surroundings.
“They may possess bigger houses, but here there’s a stronger community,” said Phil Hockley, aged 63. “It’s likely a lot of people in the new builds never even talk to each other.”
The economic gap is clear: an typical three-bedroom house sells for about £275,000 on the estate, while on the other side comparable homes fetch about £410,000.
Locals describe a tangible feeling of being overlooked. “This part of the community is neglected,” stated holistic health worker Susan Riley-Nevers. “Over here our amenities have gradually disappeared, and the majority of the community problems here are to do with financial hardship.”
The rise in these ‘inequality borders’ presents a portrait of an increasingly divided society, where wealth and need are frequently uncomfortably close neighbours.