We may never have had an aristocracy, but we did at one time have a distinct upper class. Only tiny remnants of it still exist, miraculously, though its extinction is a foregone conclusion. It has been replaced by a vaguely demarcated stratum characterized not by taste, tradition, and values but by wealth. Anyone who is financially successful enough automatically enters this upper stratum and can freely enjoy its gains without fear of censure or exclusion in nearly all cases.
The American upper class quickly suffered a decline in its reputation, and was never able to recover. Its judgement had been thought of as unerring in the areas of business and, overall, politics (though it had little to do with the arts and with science), dating from before the founding of the Republic. However, beginning in about 1960, the complexity of world affairs developed beyond the capacity of the ruling class ('ruling' and 'upper' class being interchangeable) to respond adequately, and its errors of judgement and obtuseness were simply too damaging (when they weren't insufferable) for society to forgive. At any rate, prosperity, the democratization of taste, and the path to greater equality brought the very idea of special class prerogatives into disrepute.
We no longer have the imagination or generosity to believe that a class 'system' is capable of anything other than meting out injustice and aiding the undeserving in clinging to ill-gotten privileges. However, if we could for a moment stop conceiving social class only as a thing that separates and limits us, we might be able to reimagine society in some surprisingly beneficial ways.
We forget, or choose not to remember, that whether it came close to living by its ideals or not, the old American upper class believed in virtue as an abstract notion; this idea barely exists nowadays, if it still does at all. The heritage of ethical and personal standards will inevitably be tainted by prejudice, vice and other human imperfections. Yet while the hypocrisy and prejudice of the upper class were harmful in a multitude of individual cases, its ideals set an example for everyone. The middle class was not in a position to hold the same exalted view of itself; its moral system was grounded in the here and now, and the consequences of deviating from it were greater. But 'middle-class American morality' (which is also well on the road to extinction) drew its strength indirectly from the proffered example of the upper class.
We once believed that fortune favored the virtuous, but now we think it only favors the most clever.
While this must seem like a small distinction, it is impossible to exaggerate how far-reaching and, ultimately, damaging this subtle shift in thinking has been. It is anything but an accident that with no distinct class of citizens espousing a certain level in taste in morals and aesthetics, behavior in both the private and the public sphere has deteriorated so markedly. Very clever people are under no obligation to anything except the imperative of their talent; they can be only as public-spirited as they wish to be, and if they are, one notices it is strictly on their own terms.
While the old upper-class was insular, with acquisition of upper-class status not even possible even through merit, its engagement with society was much more robust than is the case with the so-called 'super rich' of today. The preliminary evidence also suggests that the legacy of today's billionaires will not be nearly as lasting. This is not entirely their fault by any means. The degradation of the public sphere predates the arbitrary philanthropy of Zuckerberg, Gates, and so forth; there is no living tradition for them to adhere to (that is, even if they felt obligated to adhere to one, which is obviously not the case).
Today we simply can not accept the paradox of a class (the very notion of social class is itself unacceptable to most Americans) that, at the same time as it excluded even meritorious outsiders, was deeply invested in the welfare and progress of the nation it led. This speaks to the poverty of our imaginations. It is not consciously possible to return to the former state of affairs, even if we wanted to. However, it could be beneficial to remember that culture, ideals, and manners are essential to those who would claim to lead society.
The American upper class quickly suffered a decline in its reputation, and was never able to recover. Its judgement had been thought of as unerring in the areas of business and, overall, politics (though it had little to do with the arts and with science), dating from before the founding of the Republic. However, beginning in about 1960, the complexity of world affairs developed beyond the capacity of the ruling class ('ruling' and 'upper' class being interchangeable) to respond adequately, and its errors of judgement and obtuseness were simply too damaging (when they weren't insufferable) for society to forgive. At any rate, prosperity, the democratization of taste, and the path to greater equality brought the very idea of special class prerogatives into disrepute.
We no longer have the imagination or generosity to believe that a class 'system' is capable of anything other than meting out injustice and aiding the undeserving in clinging to ill-gotten privileges. However, if we could for a moment stop conceiving social class only as a thing that separates and limits us, we might be able to reimagine society in some surprisingly beneficial ways.
We forget, or choose not to remember, that whether it came close to living by its ideals or not, the old American upper class believed in virtue as an abstract notion; this idea barely exists nowadays, if it still does at all. The heritage of ethical and personal standards will inevitably be tainted by prejudice, vice and other human imperfections. Yet while the hypocrisy and prejudice of the upper class were harmful in a multitude of individual cases, its ideals set an example for everyone. The middle class was not in a position to hold the same exalted view of itself; its moral system was grounded in the here and now, and the consequences of deviating from it were greater. But 'middle-class American morality' (which is also well on the road to extinction) drew its strength indirectly from the proffered example of the upper class.
We once believed that fortune favored the virtuous, but now we think it only favors the most clever.
While this must seem like a small distinction, it is impossible to exaggerate how far-reaching and, ultimately, damaging this subtle shift in thinking has been. It is anything but an accident that with no distinct class of citizens espousing a certain level in taste in morals and aesthetics, behavior in both the private and the public sphere has deteriorated so markedly. Very clever people are under no obligation to anything except the imperative of their talent; they can be only as public-spirited as they wish to be, and if they are, one notices it is strictly on their own terms.
While the old upper-class was insular, with acquisition of upper-class status not even possible even through merit, its engagement with society was much more robust than is the case with the so-called 'super rich' of today. The preliminary evidence also suggests that the legacy of today's billionaires will not be nearly as lasting. This is not entirely their fault by any means. The degradation of the public sphere predates the arbitrary philanthropy of Zuckerberg, Gates, and so forth; there is no living tradition for them to adhere to (that is, even if they felt obligated to adhere to one, which is obviously not the case).
Today we simply can not accept the paradox of a class (the very notion of social class is itself unacceptable to most Americans) that, at the same time as it excluded even meritorious outsiders, was deeply invested in the welfare and progress of the nation it led. This speaks to the poverty of our imaginations. It is not consciously possible to return to the former state of affairs, even if we wanted to. However, it could be beneficial to remember that culture, ideals, and manners are essential to those who would claim to lead society.
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