60 Years on from the Race Relations Act - How far have we really come?
- Maria
- Sep 14
- 5 min read
Updated: Oct 16
Sixty years ago, Britain passed the Race Relations Act 1965, the first law to outlaw racial discrimination in public places. It was a landmark moment, recognising racism as a societal problem, not just a personal failing. The Act was limited. Housing, employment, and education were left untouched, and enforcement powers were weak. Critics called it “symbolic but toothless.” Still, it laid the groundwork for future equality laws and sparked a national conversation about race.
The Act was driven by grassroots activism. Campaigns like the Bristol Bus Boycott and the Notting Hill riots highlighted daily discrimination against Black and Asian communities. The Campaign Against Racial Discrimination (CARD) was instrumental in pushing for revisions to the first bill, lobbying for stronger enforcement and ensuring the law addressed systemic issues rather than just individual prejudice. CARD’s efforts helped pave the way for the Race Relations Acts of 1968 and 1976, which expanded protections to employment, housing, and services, and led to the creation of the Commission for Racial Equality.
Since then, Britain has made progress. The Equality Act 2010 consolidated anti-discrimination laws, and Black and Asian communities now have a stronger presence in politics, media, and public life. Cultural contributions from the Windrush generation are widely recognised, and politicians of South Asian, Caribbean, and African heritage hold prominent roles.
But inequalities remain stark. Unemployment rates remain higher among ethnic minorities: in 2024, minority ethnic people in the UK had an unemployment rate of 8.0% compared with 3.3% for white people. Among young people aged 16–24, the gap was wider still, with Black youth facing some of the highest unemployment levels.
Housing is another area of disparity. Black people in England and Wales are almost three times as likely as white people to live in social housing (44% compared with 16%). Black families facing homelessness are also more likely to remain in temporary accommodation for long periods, with lower chances of securing permanent housing compared to their white counterparts.
The Windrush scandal exposed deep systemic failures. While more than 17,000 people eventually received documentation confirming their status, compensation has been painfully slow. By early 2024, the Home Office had paid out just over £80 million across 2,233 claims.
Everyday racism, from microaggressions to stereotyping, continues to shape experiences in schools, workplaces, and public spaces. Activism has evolved, but challenges remain. Movements like Black Lives Matter UK and the Black Equity Organisation push for justice and systemic change. Social media amplifies these voices but also fuels online abuse. Meanwhile, government reports, such as the 2021 Sewell Report, which denied institutional racism, fuelled controversy, illustrating the ongoing debates over whether racism is structural or anecdotal.
Sixty years on, Britain likes to see itself as a tolerant, post-racial society - a place where laws, diversity campaigns, and representation have supposedly levelled the playing field. We celebrate multiculturalism as proof that the work is done. But the statistics and lived experiences tell a different story.
The legal framework has done its job in shifting the boundaries of what is publicly acceptable. The open racism of the 1950s or 1960s is no longer tolerated in polite society. Yet beneath the surface lies a quieter, more insidious complacency - the comforting illusion that we have moved beyond race.
This belief in a “non-racial” Britain is seductive because it absolves us of responsibility. If racism is no longer systemic, then any remaining inequality can be explained away as individual failure or cultural difference. But the data refuses to comply with that narrative: Black youth unemployment remains disproportionately high; ethnic minority families are more likely to experience housing insecurity; hate crimes continue to rise.
The danger of this post-racial myth is that it breeds inertia. It allows political leaders and institutions to treat racial equality as a completed project rather than an ongoing struggle. There is even a growing sense, whispered but potent, that perhaps we have gone too far - that equality itself is now the threat, not the goal.
A society that believes it has conquered racism becomes blind to its new forms. The question is not whether Britain has changed , it has, but whether it has changed enough. Progress without vigilance risks decay. If the Race Relations Act of 1965 taught us anything, it is that justice must be defended, not declared.
The rise of right-wing populism intensifies these challenges. Reform UK has grown rapidly, drawing on nationalist and anti-immigration rhetoric. In September 2025, a large anti-migrant march in London drew significant participation, with some attendees clashing with the police. The event illustrated how xenophobic sentiment can escalate into conflict.
Hate crime figures underscore the consequences of normalising xenophobia: in the year ending March 2024, police in England and Wales recorded 140,561 hate crimes, 70% of which were racially motivated.
Recent political rhetoric has deepened these challenges. In May 2025, Prime Minister Keir Starmer described “uncontrolled” migration as having caused “incalculable” harm to British society. His remarks sparked condemnation from anti-racism groups who warned that such language undermines the dignity and safety of minority communities. Starmer later softened his comments, but the episode highlighted the tightrope political leaders walk between addressing immigration concerns and maintaining trust among minority voters.
Sociologist Gary Younge observes that the resurgence of racist and xenophobic sentiment, amplified by figures such as Tommy Robinson and fuelled by social media, reflects a wider global trend. If left unchecked, this normalisation of xenophobia risks deepening divisions and undermining decades of progress.
The Race Relations Act 1965 was a start, not an endpoint. True progress requires equity in opportunities, fair policing, representation at decision-making levels, and closing outcome gaps. CARD’s influence reminds us that advocacy is crucial. Law alone cannot dismantle structural racism. Solidarity across communities and sustained pressure on institutions are essential.
Reflecting on six decades of progress, it is clear that while legislation has evolved, the journey toward racial equality continues. The legacy of the Race Relations Act is not just historical. Sixty years on, the question is not just how far we have come, but how much further we must go and what it will take to get there. Upholding fairness, justice, and inclusion requires commitment, courage, and collective responsibility. The ongoing rise in hate crimes linked to xenophobia highlights the urgent need to maintain vigilance and reinforce solidarity. Strategic advocacy and collective action, as CARD demonstrated, can turn legal frameworks into meaningful social change.
The fight for racial equality is far from over. Progress is fragile, and gains can be challenged. Without renewed commitment from politicians, institutions, and society at large, the dangers of normalising xenophobia, both online and offline, threaten the safety, dignity, and rights of ethnic minority communities. The lessons of the past sixty years are clear. Legislation matters, activism matters, but unity and vigilance matter most.
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