Tag Archives: class

Social Class in Mexico: From Skin Color to Show Me the Money!

By Deborah Van Hoewyk

When you watch Mexican television, do you look at the ads? Who do you see? Pale people. When you walk outside in Huatulco, or Santa María, or Oaxaca City, who do you see? Brown people, all the glorious shades of brown people.

Skin Color and Social Class in Mexico

It turns out that skin color is – and always has been – one of the major components of social class in Mexico. The most requested type of actor for commercial advertising is “international Latino” – dark hair and eyes are okay, but skin must be light. According to social anthropologist Juris Tipa, a professor/researcher at the Autonomous Metropolitan University-Iztapalapa, the whole notion of “international Latino” is “reinforcing the imagery of a ‘Europeanised Latin Americanity’ at the expense of the average Mexican.”

Official statistical research in Mexico is carried out by INEGI (National Institute of Statistics and Geography). Traditionally, adhering to the general notion that Mexico is a nation based on mestizaje – racial/ethnic mixing – INEGI’s surveys have not included questions on race or skin color. (A question on African ancestry started appearing in 2015; see the Chaikens’ article on slavery on page 8, as well as Julie Etra’s article on page 26.)

Given that the Conquest left Mexico with not only slavery but a caste system based entirely on racial and ethnic classifications, the ideology of mestizaje would seem to be a political fiction. Even though the War of Independence replaced the caste system with a hierarchy based on wealth and education, the preference for that pale-skinned European look persisted (President Porfirio Díaz, whose dictatorial ways led up to the Mexican Revolution, was a noted Europhile). Academic research has now begun to look into the relationship of skin color and “life outcomes,” i.e., social class.

In 2010, Andrés Villareal, then at the Population Research Center at the University of Texas, was the first investigator to look at how skin color affects an individual’s “life chances.” He found that the darker your skin, the less education you had. The darker your skin, the lower your occupational category. The darker your skin, the more likely you were to live in poverty, although this relationship was not perfect – if you had light brown skin, you could make it into a more affluent category. Remember, the richest man in Mexico, Carlos Slim, has light brown skin!

Researchers from the Department of Sociology at Princeton University followed up on Villareal’s research in 2012; their work added the finding that “class origin” – that is, the social status of your family – could moderate the effect of skin color. Interestingly, they found that high-income individuals are perceived to be white, regardless of the color of their skin. Overall, they found that skin color and class origin work together to reproduce social inequality in Mexico – and the class origin component works to set your fate even before you enter the labor market.

In 2018, using an 11-shade “palette” of skin colors, researchers at the Center for Economic Studies at the Colegio de México in Mexico City, found “profound social stratification by skin color.” The lightest-skinned people have a year and a half more schooling and more than double the hourly earnings than those with the darkest skin color. Lighter skin brings more “social mobility,” i.e., light-skinned people can move up the socio-economic ladder, while the darkest people actually dropped in socioeconomic status.

Does Skin Color = Social Class in Mexico?

Does this truly mean the caste system is alive and well? Not completely. Even though skin color can influence your access to advantages such as education, those advantages can moderate the effects of skin color. There’s education (especially whether or not you speak English), along with professional skills and background. In a 2023 study in the Middle Atlantic Review of Latin American Studies, Thomas Stringer, a professor at Tecnológico de Monterrey, argues that the intersection of skin color, English proficiency, and intergenerational wealth determines your social class in Mexico.

The Mexican Association of Marketing Research and Public Opinion Agencies, otherwise known as AMAI, has developed a seven-level system of socioeconomic status (SES); the system is based on four characteristics: (1) education (how much professional or post-graduate study), (2) living situation (vivienda – how many bedrooms and how many cars), (3) Internet connectivity, and (4) technology (how many computers). AMAI places no emphasis on skin color – like all good marketing authorities, their system seems to be based on consumption.

So … Show Me the Money!

It is interesting that Mexico does not have a standard definition of socio-economic status, and that perceptions of who is “middle” class are so fluid (see the article by Kary Vannice on page 6). Underlying all the SES measures noted above? Money. You want a nice house? You have to have the money to buy it or build it. Higher education? You have to pay tuition. Intergenerational wealth? Your family had to get it somewhere.

Money in Mexico, however, is not available to all – the World Inequality Report of 2022 ranks Mexico 12th in the world for the disparity between those at the economic top (1% of the population held almost 50% of the country’s wealth) and bottom (50% of the population held only a bit more than 9% of the wealth).

Under the 2018-24 presidency of Andrés Manuel López Obrador (AMLO), however, income inequality actually decreased. AMLO shepherded successive 20% increases in the minimum wage, which sweetened union contracts as a bonus. He tightened outsourcing laws, retaining more manufacturing in Mexico – a policy that moved more than three million people into formal employment. Overall, the “multidimensional poverty rate” (income plus “social rights” – access to food, medical care, sanitation, etc.) dropped by over 5% in AMLO’s first four years, with 8.9 million people lifted out of poverty.

When millions of people escape poverty, the country benefits enormously. But escaping poverty does not necessarily change your social class, nor does it provide access to the advantages of upward mobility.

The Political Art of José Guadalupe Posada

By Jane Bauer

Most people know this image but don’t know its significance—La Calavera Catrina. La Calavera Catrina serves as a critique of Mexico’s upper class. Created around 1910, this skeleton, dressed in a fancy European-style hat, mocks the Mexican elite who sought to adopt European customs while neglecting their own cultural roots. The image later became a symbol of Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), representing the idea that wealth and social status are fleeting.

The artist, José Guadalupe Posada (1852–1913) was a Mexican illustrator and printmaker known for his politically charged and satirical caricatures. His work, often featuring calaveras (skeletons), critiqued the social and political inequalities of his time. Through his art, Posada gave voice to the struggles of the working class and exposed the corruption of the elite, making his work an enduring symbol of Mexico’s revolutionary spirit.

The Role of Satire in Posada’s Work
Born in Aguascalientes, Mexico, Posada began his career as a printmaker and political cartoonist. He honed his skills in lithography and engraving, producing thousands of illustrations for newspapers, pamphlets, and broadsides. His ability to blend humor with biting social commentary made his work highly influential, particularly during the turbulent years leading up to the Mexican Revolution (1910–1920).Posada’s caricatures often depicted the stark class divisions in Mexican society. He used skeletons—an iconic element of his work—not only as a reminder of mortality but as a way to strip away superficial differences and highlight universal human conditions. By portraying both the rich and the poor as calaveras, he revealed the absurdity of class hierarchies and the inevitability of death, which rendered all distinctions meaningless.

Another significant piece, Calavera of Don Quixote, reimagines Miguel de Cervantes’ literary hero in contemporary Mexico. In this print, Don Quixote is in battle, much like the poor struggling against the oppressive forces of industrialization and political corruption. Posada’s use of the famous character serves as a metaphor for the struggles of the underprivileged against an unjust system.

Posada’s influence extended far beyond his lifetime. His work inspired generations of Mexican artists, including Diego Rivera, who prominently featured La Catrina in his mural Sueño de una Tarde Dominical en la Alameda Central (Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in the Alameda Central). Rivera and other members of the Mexican Muralism movement admired Posada’s ability to blend art with social criticism, using visual storytelling to advocate for political change.

Today, Posada is celebrated not only for his artistic talent but also for his fearless critique of class disparities. His calaveras remain a powerful reminder of Mexico’s history of social struggle, and his legacy endures in the country’s cultural consciousness. Through his bold and unflinching work, Posada continues to speak to issues of inequality, reminding us that the fight for justice is eternal.

Understanding Mexico’s Middle Class

By Kary Vannice

There’s something interesting going on with Mexico’s middle class. While the majority of Mexicans identify as middle class, some scholars suggest that a true middle class doesn’t even exist in Mexico.

In a country where the top 1% own 50% of the nation’s wealth, it’s not surprising that Mexico’s economic structure looks quite different from its neighbors, the U.S. and Canada. For every person in Mexico’s upper class, there are approximately 50 people in the lower class. As many as 64% of Mexicans are considered poor or live in poverty. According to a 2021 study by Mexico’s official census agency, Quantifying the Middle Class in Mexico, 38% of the population is classified as middle or upper class, while 62% make up the lower class.

Even among Latin countries, the economic gap in Mexico is wide. Closely tied to factors like race and generational wealth, research shows that lighter-skinned Mexicans, who often come from families with European heritage, dominate the upper class. By contrast, darker-skinned Mexicans typically earn 53% less than their lighter-skinned counterparts, making it challenging for those of indigenous decent to break the middle-class barrier.

Inequity is compounded in the lower classes where the majority work at informal, low-paying jobs simply to provide for their families, often without benefits like healthcare or retirement plans. More than half of the population works informal jobs in Mexico. Despite this, most Mexicans perceive themselves as middle class.

In 2022, Revista: Harvard Review of Latin America reported that, “79% of Mexicans consider themselves to be middle class, a quantity quite superior to the reality. The mistaken perception of belonging to the middle class exists in both the rich and poor. Two-thirds of the top 1% of income in Mexico perceive themselves as middle class. And 47% of Mexicans who live in poverty also believe the same thing.”

Despite both upper and lower classes perceiving themselves to be “middle class,” the day-to-day realities of these two socioeconomic groups is stark. In a World Values Survey, 62% of Mexicans identified as middle class, yet in the previous 12 months, one-third reported they had experienced food insecurity, nearly 60% felt unsafe, and close to 40% had been unable to pay for necessary healthcare. Only 33% of this group reported having their basic needs consistently met.

The Revista assessment suggests that only 23% of Mexicans actually fit into the middle-class category. So what does a middle-class income look like in Mexico? Most metrics put the annual income between $6,000 and $20,000 (USD), a shockingly low number by most foreigners’ standards.

In contrast, Canada’s average annual middle-class salary was between $53,359 and $137,000 CAD in 2023-24, while the United States reported an average middle-class income of between $53,740 and $161,220 USD in 2023. These figures highlight a significant income disparity between Mexico and its northern counterparts. The top middle-class annual salary in Mexico is less than half of the lowest middle-class earners in both the US and Canada.

Minimum wage comparisons further underscore these differences. As of 2025, Mexico’s national monthly minimum wage was 5,576 pesos ($388 CAD), while Canada’s federal monthly minimum wage was $2,768 CAD.

This means the Mexicans who work in private homes, food service, or run the shops you frequent are likely facing very different financial realities than you might expect. Mexico’s daily minimum wage is just $278.80 pesos. A Canadian making minimum wage makes in one hour what a Mexican makes in seven hours, likely doing manual labor.

Despite identifying as “middle class”, the majority of Mexicans still struggle to meet their monthly needs. The Revista assessment concluded by saying, “Mexico is not a country of middle classes. It is a country in which to be middle class is the exception, a level of lifestyle to which very few people have access.”

Understanding the complexities of Mexico’s middle class offers valuable insight into the lives of those you may encounter daily, like housekeepers, gardeners, artisans, or servers. While their lighthearted smiles may reflect a “perceived” middle-class status, their reality is often far more challenging.

Supporting local businesses, tipping well, and paying fairly for services provide opportunities to help bridge the gap between perception and true financial stability, and to contribute to a safer, more secure middle-class reality here in Mexico, which in turn provides a more stable economic future for Mexicans and foreigners alike.