When International Employment Law Meets Lived Reality

Beginning With the Law

Yesterday I was teaching International Employment Law. To introduce discrimination and the Equality Act 2010 — and to compare UK and international contexts — I drew on my Australian experience and used news reports from both countries. We began with tribunal cases, legal definitions, and the narrow circumstances in which a Genuine Occupational Requirement (GOR) can apply. The class was lively, analytical, and grounded in legal reasoning.

When News Stories Hit Close to Home

By the end of the class, I showed my students several media reports:

• UK airline staff discrimination case- a recent case from social media

• Australian retail investigations involving international students breaching visa work‑hour limits and employer breach of employment law

• A report from Australia on wage discrimination against workers under 18, where young people were historically paid significantly less for identical work — and where unions were pushing for equal minimum wages regardless of age

What struck me was how quickly my international students connected with these stories. The video about international students in Australia especially resonated. They told me, almost matter‑of‑factly, that the same thing happens here — they need the money, so what choice do they have.

The Parallel Cash Economy

We openly discussed the parallel cash‑based economy: working beyond permitted hours because rent and food cannot wait, accepting wages far below the legal minimum because survival comes first, and the reality that very few employers want to hire students for only twenty hours a week on a temporary basis. As we unpacked these pressures, the room felt heavy with recognition.

And then, while we were discussing these issues, one student joked, “Some of that money goes to paying a third party to do our assignments,” and the room erupted in laughter. But the humour didn’t hide the truth — beneath it was exhaustion, the kind that comes from juggling high fees, academic expectations, and the constant pressure to earn enough just to stay afloat.

When Compliance Becomes a Risk

The conversation grew heavier when students shared what happens when they try to follow the rules. One student described a peer who refused to work beyond the twenty‑hour limit. The employer, angry that he would not be “flexible,” reported him out of spite — punishing him simply for insisting on being compliant.

Others spoke about situations where they themselves had asked for more work, and their line managers informally allowed it. Later, HR discovered the breach — not because the students were trying to hide anything, but because the system itself was inconsistent. They were then dismissed for breaching their twenty‑hour employment contracts and, by extension, their visa conditions.

The imbalance is obvious. Employers benefit. Students carry the risk.

A Global Pattern, Not a Local Problem

Later that same day, I heard a debate in the UK suggesting that young people should be paid less — a stark contrast to the Australian conversation, where unions were pushing for equal minimum wages for workers under 18 and adults. The direction of these debates may differ, but the underlying issue is global, and its implications are far‑reaching.

The Weight Students Carry

International students pay higher fees, navigate complex systems, and often arrive academically underprepared through no fault of their own. On top of that, they carry the burden of generating income to survive. When work overtakes study, it is not because education has lost value — it is because survival is louder.

What Stayed With Me

I began the class with legal principles, tribunal cases, and structured reasoning. But what stayed with me was not the law itself. It was the gap between what the law promises and what students experience.

That gap cannot be bridged by analysis alone.

It requires empathy — and the humility to recognise that the law, while essential, is only one part of the story. The rest lives in the realities students navigate every day: the financial pressure, the risk of breaching visa conditions, the fear of being reported, and the quiet compromises they make just to stay afloat.

It also lives in the challenges we rarely see on the surface — navigating a new language, adjusting to culture shock, and trying to meet academic expectations while coming from educational systems that may not have prepared them for the demands of UK higher education. These layers shape how they work, how they study, and how they experience the law long before they ever step into a classroom.

Understanding this is not just good teaching. It is accountability. It is fairness. It is the difference between teaching the law and teaching people who are living its consequences.

Empathy is not an add‑on to the curriculum. It is the bridge between the law on paper and the lives unfolding in front of us.