Elitism
Good and Bad
by Greg Nyquist
Not
so very long ago
I had a discussion with a gentleman in his late thirties who desired
to be a teacher. I mentioned to him Jefferson's theory of the
ideal system of education, which involved sending the best student
from the twenty grade schools around the state to the university
with the express intention, as Jefferson himself put it, of raking
"twenty of the best geniusesfrom the rubbish annually."
Needless to say, the aspiring teacher was shocked by this way
of expressing the matter, and when I went on to confess sympathy
for the great democrat's educational cogitations, he broke out
with the indignant protestation, "But that's elitism!"
For those of us who are attune to contemporary developments in
social valuation, this is indeed a very serious charge, and if
I had been raised a catholic, I don't know how I would have prevented
the reflex action of crossing myself upon hearing the dreaded
syllables. One would almost think, judging by the shocked tones
of horror in which the word is uttered, that elitism must be some
terrible crime on par with sado-masochistic incest, child molestation,
and torture by mutilation. In any case, it is certainly not something
one would wish to be called. In fact, Alan Bloom, who has been
accused plenty times enough of being endowed with this horrifying
quality, worthy of the ninth circle of hell, opened up his speech
at Harvard with the sinister salutation, "Fellow elitists!"
But in the course of his speech, Bloom quickly assured his audience
that it was only a sort of joke and that Harvardites were no more
elitists than he himself was. I am aware that there are a few
degenerates, especially among conservatives, who are not so horrified
of elitism as they are suppose to be; but even conservatives generally
like to keep their distance from the it. Elitism-poor thing!-has
hardly a friend in the world.
Given this nearly universal disapprobation, it may not be entirely
out of order to inquire what precisely elitism is. If elitism
is really as bad as everyone seems to think, then it is best that
we understand it in all its ramifications so that we can be certain
to avoid being guilty of it ourselves.
I must confess that, prima facie, I cannot quite put my
finger on what exactly people mean by their use of the word. Like
most profane words, it seems to be expressive more of an inner
rage or hatred than an outward quality or defect. So, in order
to get a clearer idea of what this word might mean, I consulted
the dictionary. Webster's provides us with three different senses
in which the word can be taken:
1) the practice of rule by an elite
2) the belief in rule
by an elite
3) the consciousness
of or pride in belonging to a select or favored group
Although
these definitions put some light upon the subject, there
is still much that, at least to me, remains veiled in darkness,
for I still am unable to figure out which sense of the word, if
any, are people employing when they use the word elitism as a
condemnatory ephitet. Is it the last sense, number three? If so,
then I must admit that I do not see anything intrinsically evil
or bad in being proud of belonging to some select or favored group.
No one would say it was a terrible sin to be proud of having made
the Olympic basketball team or of having been an honor student
in high school. On the contrary, these achievements would be considered
meritorious by all but intransigentally envious persons. Therefore,
I think number three can be dismissed from consideration. That
leaves us with one and two.
First, let us take a look at number one. Elitism is here defined
as the practice of ruling by elites. On the surface, one could
understand why people would consider this a bad thing. After all,
democracy is the accepted form of political rule in this country,
and anyone who believes that democracy does not represent, morally
speaking, the highest form of government is, ipso facto, a bad
person, end of argument. However, if by rule by elites we mean
rule by the few, we must not be too hasty in condemning elitism
on just these grounds, because in so doing we might not be merely
condemning all oligarchic forms of government, but all forms of
government whatsoever. Eighty years ago saw the publication of
a modest book entitled, Dur Sozilogie des Parteiwesen in der
modernen Demokratie, by the Robert Michels, a socialist who
used his practical experience to write one of the most important
books on politics of this century. Michels, in his book, asks
the insidious little question, In what manner are democratic
constitutions
subject to tendencies inherent in social organization? After
exhaustively
examining the nature of organization and its relation to democracy,
Michel concludes that leadership is indispensable to every organization
including organized democratic government, because there must
be a way of deciding questions which the group is not in a position,
due to its ignorance, to decide. In any complex society, in any
"extended order," as Hayek puts it, there must be a
division of labor. If everyone had to do everything for themselves,
civilization would be impossible. This is partly due to the fact
that there are many indispensable spheres of economic and political
action which require a great deal of time and effort (and sometimes
even ability) to master. This is especially true of governing
a nation. Even disregarding the problem of mere competence, it
can be seen that the process of governing a country requires special
learned skills. Legislation and implementation of law is an extremely
complex process which the average person, occupied, as he is,
with his own specialized occupation, simply does not have the
time to master. And then there's the purely economic problem of
having too many cooks in the kitchen: not everybody can play the
role of the leader because very shortly the law of diminishing
returns sets in until productivity reaches zero. Government, therefore,
must be oligarchical, just as a ladies bridge club or basket-weaving
union must also, to a certain extent, be oligarchal.
Michel's conclusions regarding the oligarchal nature of government-what
he called "the iron law of oligarchy"-applies, of course
(as hinted above), to all forms of organization, political or
otherwise. This means that the first definition given to us by
Webster's-namely, that elitism is the practice of rule by an
elite-describes
a fact. Now it would be entirely absurd for anyone to denounce
a fact for being immoral. Only willed actions can be immoral;
never facts. Consequently, if what is meant by the decriers and
villifiers of elitism is the mere practice of rule by elites,
then all we can say for such people is that they are beating their
breasts to no purpose. To decry the practice of ruling by elites
is as pointless and absurd as to decry the leopard for having
spots. Both are facts over which human volition has no control.
One might as well villify the earth for orbiting the sun than
villify an organization for being ruled by an elite.
Hence we are left with the second definition-i.e., elitism is
the belief in a rule by an elite. If this definition fails to
explain what the villifiers of elitism mean when they use the
word, then we must look elsewhere to find out what this occult
quality consists of. Now on the face of things,defining
elitism as the belief in rule by elites does not help me understand
the concept. For we have found that all organizations are ruled
by elites, and that that is a fact of the human condition. Now
what could possibly be immoral about believing in such a fact?
Here, however, it is important to make distinctions. Before, when
I said that all organization involves the formation of a ruling
elite, I was using the word elite in a broad sense, meaning
"a select group of people"-or, in other words, just
about any select group of people. But any dip into the
dictionary will reveal that the word elite, just like its
brother elitism, has several senses of meaning. Thus elite
is defined, successively, as "representing the most choice
or select," "the choice or best of anything considered
collectively," "the highest class," and "a
group of person exercising the major share of authority or influence
within a larger organization." Now it may very well be that
those who oppose elitism merely oppose some specific variety of
it; and, as I discovered over the course of my researches, this
comes fairly close to the truth of the matter. But what precise
variety of elitism do the villifiers of elitism actually oppose?
To answer this question we must examine some concrete examples.
That would-be teacher whom I mentioned at the beginning of this
essay found Jefferson's theory of elitism alarmingly elitist because,
as he explained when I questioned him about it, he thought that,
under such a system, the underprivelaged (i.e., people without
money) would be at an egregious disadvantage. When I expressed
to him that, on the contrary, this was not the case at all, that
as a matter of fact, promotion in Jefferson's education system
would be strictly based on merit, not on wealth, he retracted
his charge of elitism, saying, "Oh, it would be a kind of
meritocracy," implying that this would not be so terrible
a thing. From this example we may gather that the root of the
opposition to elitism in this country comes from the democratic
philosophy that is so deeply entrenched in the American psyche.
We believe in equal opportunity for all, and if we perceive the
rules of the game as being tilted in favor of this or that group
of people, we are quite naturally outraged.
It can easily be understood, therefore, why no one ever makes
charges of elitism against professional sports teams when they
cut from their rosters some slumping journeyman or agéd
has-been. No one questions the fairness of the rules of the game
in sports, and consequently no one questions the idea that only
the best players should make the team and constitute what is,
for all intents and purposes, an elite. It is in areas in which
standards seem somewhat subjective and where there is a great
deal of disagreement as to what constitutes true merit that one
finds elitism used most often as a term of disparagement. In the
world of art, for example, anyone who attempts to impose traditional
standards in the critical judgement of a contemporary work of
art is liable of coming under the charge of being an elitist.
This is because aesthetics is a notoriously subjective discipline.
Everyone has different standards of judgement, and any attempt
to impose standards that clash with those of some select coterie
of avant-garde artists is sure to be resented. For the imposition
of standards-or, in other words, criticism-is by no means a benign
activity. The critic who characterizes an artist's work as "nauseating
trash" is not merely expressing a personal opinion; he is
calling into question the artist's right to consider himself an
artist. Imposition of standards is the means by which the critic
attempts to create the rules of the game concerning who succeeds
as an artist and who doesn't. The artist who complains of elitism
does so because he feels his status as an artist threatened by
the prevailing standards of criticism.
This much being understood we can finally put our finger on a
definition of elitism which explains why so many people think
it is a bad thing. The word elitism, as it is used in contemporary
discourse, signifies any attempt to impose rules governing the
selective process in certain areas of endeavor (e.g., culture,
politics, etc.) which puts at a disadvantage some group (or groups)
who would do better with a different set of rules.
A few things would be noticed about this definition from the start.
First, many of those who use the word in its negative sense would
claim that our definition does not come close to what they mean
when they use it; and, as a sort of rebuttal, they might launch
into a long spiel about Western Civilization and dead white males.
My only reply to such protestations is that those people who are
incapable of conceiving a particular case through an abstract
category of denomination are congenitally incapable of understanding
any abstract concept, let alone elitism, and would be much better
off leaving intellectual subjects to those who can think.-Another
aspect concerning this definition to note is that it makes of
elitism an entirely relative category, free from any absolute
moral significance. And in fact, the logic of our definition means
that those who make the charge of elitism unwittingly implicate
themselves in the very crime which they condemn, for to decry
one set of rules implies allegiance to another. I realize that
some will object, claiming that they are against all such rules.
Unfortunately, such a viewpoint is entirely unfeasible. Elitism
is a position that is forced on his whether we like it or not.
It is imposed upon us by the very nature of the social interaction.
What makes elitism unavoidable in society is the problem of limited
access. Not everyone can be a professional artist, or a senator,
or the best student in his class. Some selective process must
be at work. The question is only: which one? If we stubbornly
refuse to admit this fact, nevertheless, some selective process
will rise up on its own without any human assistance whatsoever.
Those who, then, claim to be for no rules in the selective process
at all are merely the unwitting supporters of that selective process
which would arise if none was imposed under the auspices of human
wisdom or folly.
Since some selective process must be at work, the real issue involved
is not elitism verses democracy or egalitarianism or anything
of that nature, but merely one brand of elitism verses another.
Now, since elitism is so inextricably a part of the human condition,
the question naturally arises, What type of elitism should
we attempt to foster? Elitism arises f from the fact that,
in any complex society, a division of labor is necessitated by
economic forces. This is true of any type of advanced economy,
regardless of whether it has a capitalistic, interventionist,
or socialistic structure. In concrete terms, this division of
labor requires that each participant in the society chooses a
particular type of labor. No one can be a doctor, janitor, editor,
garbage collector, and engineer all at the same time, since many
types of labor require the entire devotion of an individuals faculties.
No man can become a competent doctor if he is moonlighting as
a full-time janitor and furniture mover.
It is quite true that there are all sorts of labor that do not
require any great cultivation of skills. One does not have to
study for years and years to become a grocery clerk or a cashier
in a department store. But it just so happens that one of the
most conspicuous differences between a primitive and an advanced
civilization is the appearance in the latter of many professions
which require years of preparatory training in order to attain
competence. In certain professions-especially those in which the
difference between success and failure is sharply demarcated-nobody
who had failed to attain an adequate level of competence would
be allowed to continue practicing his profession. A doctor who
killed all his patients would be quickly driven out of medicine;
a mechanic who could not repair a car's engine would soon lose
his job; and a pitcher who could not throw strikes would find
himself on waivers. The underlying premise behind all of this
is that the ability to attain the ends to which this or that particular
profession is devoted ought to determine who succeeds in that
profession and who doesn't. In other words, the rules governing
the selective process in the professions ought to be entirely
predicated on merit. Such is the case generally in the professions
of medicine, sports, engineering, and so on. These professions
are dominated by a genuine elite. This is not necessarily the
case in politics or culture. Politics involves the problem of
governing society, and success in politics is in great part determined
by how people think a society ought to be governed. Consequently,
the rules of the selective process in regards to choosing leadership
for a nation are inextricably would up with "moral"
questions-that is, questions of interest. There are people who
believe that any government which allows people to live on the
streets without a roof over their heads is ipso facto a government
characterized by immoral leadership, just as there are people
who believe that a government which is merely a swollen redistribution
bureaucracy exhibits irresponsible leadership. Questions of merit
in leadership are therefore, at least on the surface, extremely
tricky, being dependent in turn upon questions of morality. There
is nothing more intrinsically subjective than questions of morality,
unless it be questions of aesthetics. In either domain, we find
a chaos of subjectivity.
This subjectivity provides us with an interesting dilemma. As
we saw earlier, a selective process of some sort will appear in
the spheres of politics and culture whether we want it to or not.
These selective processes imply standards, and these standards
in turn imply objectivity, even if it be but a relative and tenuous
objectivity. And, strangely enough, despite the intrinsic subjectivity,
we find an acknowledgement of objective standards even in culture
and politics. Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven; Michealangelo, da Vinci,
and van Gogh; Aeschelus, Sophocles, and Shakespeare are almost
universally regarded as pre-eminent in their respect fields of
art, just as Washington, Lincoln, and Churchhill are almost universally
considered as pre-eminent political leaders. There is, apparently,
even in culture and politics, a slender thread of objectivity
which can pull us out, if we are only very careful, of the mire
of subjectivity.
What is it, then, that makes artist or leader or statesman great?
This is a question-unfortunately-that yields too complicated an
answer for us to adequately consider here, but we can at least
make several suggestions which might contain the seeds of a more
fruitful answer. First, let us concentrate our attention upon
the political side of the question. Perhaps if we were called
upon to describe what makes a great leader great we would say
something along the lines of, "A leader's greatness is predicated
on his ability to govern a society so that its members are more
successful in their struggle for existence, both when taken
individually
and collectively, than the people of other countries." What
is most important to realize is that a leader's greatness cannot
be based upon mere sentimentality. A man is not a great leader
because he is a nice person or because he likes animals or sheds
tears over the homeless. A man is a great leader when he makes
tough decisions which are in the people's long-range interests
and carries them to a successful conclusion.
Now that we have at least some conception, however feeble, of
greatness in leadership, we can proceed to restate, in more explicit
terms, what has become, almost by default as it were, one the
principle theses of this essay: namely, that since elitism in
politics is our common fate, then it behooves us to try as hard
as we can to make sure that the elites in politics are really
the very best men for their respective positions in government.
In other words, we should desire in politics-as we should desire
in all other spheres of human action-that those who are elites
in form (i.e., who hold the top rank in any sphere of human action)
ought to be elites in substance (i.e., ought to be real, not sham,
elites) as well.
Having reached this conclusion in politics, I do not think it
would surprise anyone that a similar conclusion is to be found
in the realm of culture. Though it is a fact that questions of
aesthetics are laced with subjectivity, yet nevertheless there
does exist, if not a philosophically objective basis, then a
pragmatically
objective basis to aesthetic criticism. Art is not an end in itself,
and those who have asserted the contrary are guilty of gross hyperbole.
The purpose of art-and here we consider only serious art-is to
select those aspects of experience which are rich in emotional
significance. Human nature lives immersed in a sea of passion.
The essence of life itself is passion, for without passion life
could hardly exist. Now in the course of everyday life, these
passions are not always a welcome addition to the soul's entourage.
This is because the passions of everyday life always have a material
basis. They are full of material implications, including disease,
pain, and annihilation. This is not true, however, of the passions
induced by a work of art. Such passions are entirely free from
any material implications. And just as the psyche finds pure
satisfaction
in the muscular exertion of sport, in like manner does it find
the passions induced even by tragedies and the like to be profoundly
uplifting, despite finding the passions resulting from the tragedies
of real life deplorable in the extreme. In any case, to experience
passions free from material implications appears to be one of
the most deeply satisfying experience that the psyche can undergo.
Now it is a common fact that certain works of art are able to
induce these states of deep and profound passion more satisfactorily
than other works of art. Here we have the objective basis of
aesthetics.
And from this objective basis we can conclude that there are such
things as objective standards in art which in turn yield judgements
of good or band art and good and bad artists.
From the determination of good and bad artists it is but a short
step to the determination of good and bad cultural elitism. Elitism,
as we have been constantly repeating, is an inherent part of human
condition. In many areas of professional human endeavor the competition
is fierce, and only so many people can carve out successful careers
for themselves. Not everyone who wishes to be a congressman can
be one; nor can everyone who wishes to be a professional composer
satisfy his ambition. The only question in so far as the problem
of elitism is concerned is whether or not those who succeed and
take up positions as the leading elites in their respective professions
deserve their eminent positions. If they do in fact deserve to
be elites, if they are, in effect, "genuine" elites,
then we have on our hands an instance of "good" elitism,
and there is absolutely no reason to get all indignant about it.
If, on the other hand, those who occupy the most eminent and powerful
positions in their professions do not deserve to be where they
are, if they have unfairly supplanted those who do and, consequently,
make up, not a genuine elite, but a sham one, then this is an
instance of bad elitism.
I
will leave it to the
reader to decide to what degree are political and cultural leads
constitute a good or bad elite. My main point is simply that if
your elite is bad, whether in politics or in culture (or, for
that matter, in any endeavor of high importance), then you will
wind up having a rotten politics or a rotten culre, as they case
may be. Elitism is, if you will, a necessary evil. We really ought
to make the best of it, if we possibly can.
