Philosopher Fanny Lederlin examines how French MP François Ruffin seeks to reconcile the left with the world of work—a mission he pursues with striking radicalism, though his arguments remain surprisingly traditional in form.
Back in November, Donald Trump stunned the world by becoming the 47th President of the United States, defeating Democratic candidate Kamala Harris. Political theorists and analysts quickly sought to understand how a man who had, just four years earlier, faced impeachment proceedings, been deeply implicated in the Capitol riot, and was mired in allegations of corruption and sexual misconduct, could make such a political comeback.
One of the key explanations can be summed up by twisting a well-worn campaign slogan from Bill Clinton’s 1992 run. Instead of “It’s the economy, stupid!” it might be more accurate today to say: “It’s the work, stupid!”
Indeed, the Democratic administration failed to fully grasp the scale of the growing disconnect between political elites and the working class—a rift that cuts across economic, cultural, and moral lines. This failure isn’t just an American issue. In France, this same divide haunts the political left, and François Ruffin stands out as one of the few attempting to bridge it.
Ruffin’s Radical Yet Familiar Voice
François Ruffin, known for his background in journalism and for directing the documentary Merci Patron!, has carved out a unique space in French politics. As a left-wing populist with a gift for storytelling, Ruffin speaks to a segment of the population that has long felt ignored: the working class.
But while his tone is radical, the content of his message is anything but revolutionary in the traditional Marxist sense. Instead, Ruffin is focused on restoring dignity, recognition, and visibility to labor—particularly manual labor. He doesn’t talk about overthrowing capitalism as much as he pleads for a society that genuinely values the contribution of workers.
In this sense, Ruffin is reviving a very classical vision of the left: one that places work and the working class at the heart of political identity, rather than abstract concepts like “the people” or “the oppressed” in general. He speaks directly to cashiers, nurses, factory workers, delivery drivers—the people whose daily grind keeps the country running but who rarely appear in media or political discourse except in times of crisis.
A Response to Left-Wing Amnesia
For decades, large parts of the left in France—and across Europe—have drifted away from the world of labor. Caught up in identity politics, ecological transitions, and technocratic visions of progress, they’ve neglected the material and symbolic needs of workers. Ruffin sees this as a major failure.
His speeches and writings repeatedly confront this amnesia. He calls on the left to return to its roots, to the workplace, to the shop floor, to the forgotten corners of France where jobs are scarce and dignity is scarcer.
In doing so, Ruffin doesn’t reject feminism, anti-racism, or climate advocacy. Rather, he insists that economic justice and labor rights must be central pillars—not side issues. For him, there can be no genuine ecological transition without the involvement of workers; no social cohesion without work that is meaningful and respected.
Beyond Economics: The Symbolic Power of Labor
What makes Ruffin’s approach unique is his understanding of work not just as an economic activity but as a source of identity, pride, and community. He sees work as a cultural anchor, a foundation for personal dignity and social belonging.
This resonates in a time when automation, remote work, and precarious contracts have eroded not just jobs but people’s sense of purpose. Ruffin channels this anxiety, not by blaming immigrants or globalization, but by pointing to the deeper systemic disregard for human labor.
He’s not afraid to speak of “the suffering of workers”—not in abstract terms, but with real-life examples: a nurse stretched thin across three departments, a warehouse worker timed to the second, a mechanic whose hands are his livelihood but who earns less than a manager who rarely gets theirs dirty.
A Left That Listens
In his attempt to reconnect the left with work, Ruffin does something rare: he listens. He spends time in factories, in supermarkets, on picket lines—not just for the cameras, but to understand. He asks questions rather than offering ready-made ideological answers. And when he speaks in the National Assembly or to the press, he often echoes what he’s heard from those conversations.
This bottom-up approach sets him apart from many on the left who, despite good intentions, often speak from above—from academia, think tanks, or activist circles. Ruffin, by contrast, positions himself as a conduit for working-class voices, not just a spokesperson.
Between Reform and Revolution
While Ruffin’s rhetoric is fiery, his political goals remain reformist rather than revolutionary. He doesn’t call for an end to the market economy, but for a fairer distribution of its rewards. He wants laws that protect workers, public services that function, and policies that restore the social contract between labor and capital.
His critics argue that this makes him too nostalgic, too focused on a world of work that may no longer exist. But Ruffin counters that many of the values attached to that world—solidarity, respect, craftsmanship—are precisely what we need to recover in the face of rising alienation.
Rebuilding Political Trust
Perhaps most importantly, Ruffin is trying to rebuild trust between the working class and the political left, a relationship that has fractured over decades. In regions where the left once dominated, voters now turn to the far right out of frustration and neglect. Ruffin believes that only by re-engaging with labor—not as a slogan, but as a lived reality—can the left reclaim its place.
He doesn’t offer easy answers. He doesn’t promise utopia. But he brings sincerity, clarity, and a sense of purpose that many find refreshing.
Conclusion: A Familiar Yet Needed Return
François Ruffin’s political vision may not be entirely new, but it is deeply needed. At a time when work is becoming more precarious and less visible, his insistence on placing labor at the center of the political conversation is both urgent and relevant.
His approach reminds us that politics isn’t just about abstract ideals or grand strategies—it’s about the real, everyday lives of people who wake up each morning to work, who want to be seen, heard, and respected.
In trying to bring the left back to work, Ruffin may just be offering a path toward its renewal.