Whites to become minority in UK in 40 years
White Britons will become a minority in their own country in less than four decades, a recent study has suggested.
The UK has seen a massive influx of legal and illegal migration under successive Conservative and Labour governments, with a record high of 906,000 new arrivals in 2023, according to The Telegraph. In 2022, the census revealed that London and Birmingham had become minority white cities.
In an article on Tuesday, the newspaper cited an analysis by professor Matt Goodwin of Buckingham University, showing that the share of white Britons in the total population of the UK will slide from the current 73% to 57% by 2050. The study predicts they will slip into minority by 2063, and by the end of the century, the white population in the country may shrink to around 33%.
The analysis goes on to project that six in ten people in the UK will be foreign-born or have at least one immigrant parent by the end of the century. The share of Muslims in the UK population is expected to rise from the current 7% to 19.2% within the same period.
Goodwin told The Telegraph that his study factors in migration, as well as birth and death rates among various ethnic and religious groups, based on Office for National Statistics and census data.
The author of the study told the newspaper that his findings raise 'enormous questions about the capacity of our country and leaders to unify people around a shared sense of identity, values, ways of life, and culture.'
He also noted that the concerns that his study is liable to spark among many Britons 'will need to be recognised, respected and addressed if the UK is to avoid considerable political turbulence and polarisation in the years and decades ahead.'
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Russia Today
2 days ago
- Russia Today
The end of Israeli exceptionalism
Israel has now been at war with its neighbours for nearly two years. The latest round began with the Hamas-led terrorist attack on 7 October 2023. In response, West Jerusalem launched an aggressive military campaign that has since expanded to touch nearly every country in the region. The escalation has placed the Jewish state at the centre of Middle Eastern geopolitics once again – this time, dragging in Iran, a state that had long avoided direct confrontation through strategic caution. Now, even Tehran finds itself under fire, with US backing making the stakes far higher. Iran is left facing a grim choice between the bad and the very bad. But this isn't about Iran. It's about Israel, a country that has for decades functioned as the West's forward operating base in the Middle East. Since the mid-20th century, Israel has enjoyed a privileged position – a bridgehead of Western power in a volatile region, while also deeply enmeshed in its politics and rivalries. Its success has rested on two pillars: the unshakable support of the United States, and its own internal capacity for innovation, military strength, and a unique social model. That second pillar, however, has weakened. The clearest sign is in demographics: Israel is facing rising negative migration. In 2024, some 82,700 people are expected to leave the country – a 50% increase from the year before. It is not the unskilled or disengaged who are leaving, but the young and educated. The people who are needed to sustain a modern state are choosing to go. Of course, Israel's troubles are not unique. Like many developed nations, it is struggling under the weight of a decaying neoliberal economic system. The pandemic made things worse, exposing the fragility of the model and encouraging a shift toward a 'mobilisation' mode of governance – rule through emergency and constant readiness for conflict. In the West more broadly, war and geopolitical confrontation have become a way to delay or disguise necessary systemic reform. In this regard, Israel has become a laboratory for the West's emerging logic: permanent war as a method of governance. In the autumn of 2023, the Israeli establishment embraced this fully. Conflict became not just a tactic, but a way of life. Its leaders no longer see peace as the goal, but war as the mechanism for national unity and political survival. In this, Israel mirrors the broader Western embrace of conflict with Russia and China – proxy wars chosen when actual reform is off the table. At the global level, nuclear deterrence limits how far such wars can go. But in the Middle East, where Israel wages war directly, those constraints don't apply. This allows war to serve as a pressure valve – politically useful, even as it becomes self-destructive. But even war has limits. It cannot indefinitely mask economic decay or social unrest. And while conflict tends to cement elite power – even among incompetent leadership – it also drains national strength. Israel is now consuming more and more of its own resources to sustain this permanent state of war. Its social cohesion is fraying. Its once-vaunted model of technological and civic progress is no longer functioning as it did. Some in West Jerusalem may dream of 'reformatting' the Middle East – reshaping the region through force and fear. If successful, it could buy Israel a few decades of security and breathing room. But such outcomes are far from guaranteed. Crushing a neighbour doesn't eliminate the threat; it merely brings distant enemies closer. Most importantly, Israel's deepest problems aren't external – they are internal, rooted in its political and social structures. War can define a state, yes. But such states – Sparta, North Korea – tend to be 'peculiar,' to put it mildly. And even for them, war cannot substitute for real diplomacy, policy, or growth. So has Israel, always at war, truly developed? Or has it simply been sustained – politically, militarily, and financially – as a subdivision of American foreign policy? If it continues down this path of permanent conflict and right-wing nationalism, it risks losing even that status. It may cease to be the West's bridge in the Middle East – and become something else entirely: a militarised garrison state, isolated, brittle, and increasingly article was first published by the magazine Profile and was translated and edited by the RT team.
Russia Today
2 days ago
- Russia Today
Israel can't bomb its way out of decline
Israel has now been at war with its neighbours for nearly two years. The latest round began with the Hamas-led terrorist attack on 7 October 2023. In response, West Jerusalem launched an aggressive military campaign that has since expanded to touch nearly every country in the region. The escalation has placed the Jewish state at the centre of Middle Eastern geopolitics once again – this time, dragging in Iran, a state that had long avoided direct confrontation through strategic caution. Now, even Tehran finds itself under fire, with US backing making the stakes far higher. Iran is left facing a grim choice between the bad and the very bad. But this isn't about Iran. It's about Israel, a country that has for decades functioned as the West's forward operating base in the Middle East. Since the mid-20th century, Israel has enjoyed a privileged position – a bridgehead of Western power in a volatile region, while also deeply enmeshed in its politics and rivalries. Its success has rested on two pillars: the unshakable support of the United States, and its own internal capacity for innovation, military strength, and a unique social model. That second pillar, however, has weakened. The clearest sign is in demographics: Israel is facing rising negative migration. In 2024, some 82,700 people are expected to leave the country – a 50% increase from the year before. It is not the unskilled or disengaged who are leaving, but the young and educated. The people who are needed to sustain a modern state are choosing to go. Of course, Israel's troubles are not unique. Like many developed nations, it is struggling under the weight of a decaying neoliberal economic system. The pandemic made things worse, exposing the fragility of the model and encouraging a shift toward a 'mobilisation' mode of governance – rule through emergency and constant readiness for conflict. In the West more broadly, war and geopolitical confrontation have become a way to delay or disguise necessary systemic reform. In this regard, Israel has become a laboratory for the West's emerging logic: permanent war as a method of governance. In the autumn of 2023, the Israeli establishment embraced this fully. Conflict became not just a tactic, but a way of life. Its leaders no longer see peace as the goal, but war as the mechanism for national unity and political survival. In this, Israel mirrors the broader Western embrace of conflict with Russia and China – proxy wars chosen when actual reform is off the table. At the global level, nuclear deterrence limits how far such wars can go. But in the Middle East, where Israel wages war directly, those constraints don't apply. This allows war to serve as a pressure valve – politically useful, even as it becomes self-destructive. But even war has limits. It cannot indefinitely mask economic decay or social unrest. And while conflict tends to cement elite power – even among incompetent leadership – it also drains national strength. Israel is now consuming more and more of its own resources to sustain this permanent state of war. Its social cohesion is fraying. Its once-vaunted model of technological and civic progress is no longer functioning as it did. Some in West Jerusalem may dream of 'reformatting' the Middle East – reshaping the region through force and fear. If successful, it could buy Israel a few decades of security and breathing room. But such outcomes are far from guaranteed. Crushing a neighbour doesn't eliminate the threat; it merely brings distant enemies closer. Most importantly, Israel's deepest problems aren't external – they are internal, rooted in its political and social structures. War can define a state, yes. But such states – Sparta, North Korea – tend to be 'peculiar,' to put it mildly. And even for them, war cannot substitute for real diplomacy, policy, or growth. So has Israel, always at war, truly developed? Or has it simply been sustained – politically, militarily, and financially – as a subdivision of American foreign policy? If it continues down this path of permanent conflict and right-wing nationalism, it risks losing even that status. It may cease to be the West's bridge in the Middle East – and become something else entirely: a militarised garrison state, isolated, brittle, and increasingly article was first published by the magazine Profile and was translated and edited by the RT team.
Russia Today
2 days ago
- Russia Today
Britain's Starmer mistakes South Korean interpreter for president (VIDEO)
UK Prime Minister Keir Starmer appears to have mistaken an interpreter with the South Korean delegation at the G7 summit for the country's president. The mix-up took place during a photo opportunity at the entrance to the summit venue in Canada. A video from the event shows Starmer confidently shaking the man's hand and smiling, while South Korean President Lee Jae-myung stood behind him waiting to be acknowledged. Starmer held the interpreter's hand for several seconds before the mistake became apparent as President Lee stepped forward. The two leaders eventually greeted each other but then apparently had another moment of confusion as to where to stand for the photo. South Korea, along with Australia and India, participated as guests of the event. London has denied claims of an embarrassing diplomatic mistake. Keir Starmer mistakenly shakes hands with a Korean interpreter instead of the President of South Korea (2025) The day before, Starmer had to kneel in front of US President Donald Trump to frantically trying to gather up trade papers that hd been dropped by the American leader. The agenda for the 51st G7 summit included support for Ukraine, the Middle East, sanctions, AI and energy security. During the summit, Trump had claimed that kicking Russia out of the group was a big mistake and suggested that Moscow's presence in the G8, as it was known, could have helped prevent the Ukraine conflict. The Kremlin has argued that the G7 has 'lost its relevance' and no longer reflects global economic dynamics. Former Russian President Dmitry Medvedev applauded Trump's criticism of the group and his decision to leave the event early, but stressed that the G7 is a 'dead club.' Writing on X, he claimed that its members had already looked like 'zombies' over a decade ago.
