In the October 16, 1973 episode of Firing Line with William F. Buckley, Jr. (video below), two psychologists debate whether intelligence (IQ) is inherited and the social effects that result from one’s answer to that question. For example, if IQ is inherited, what is the role of education in society? If IQ is inherited, should we change how we educate children based on their perceived intelligence so that higher-IQ children receive different or better educations than “average” students? Or should there be some equality of educational opportunity so that all children, regardless of perceived intelligence, receive the same type and quality of education?
There are other questions that arise as well, including questions about what makes certain people fit for certain jobs or roles in society: Are people who we identify as likely to inherit a higher IQ better fit for certain types of work or leadership, or can “average” people succeed in those ways as well? And to answer all those questions, we must first answer a more fundamental question: What do we value as a society? The answer to what we value directs a lot of our policy decisions and how we see society and those around us. We exalt certain traits among people—intelligence, physical strength, entrepreneurship, etc.—because we think that those traits will help them achieve the things we value.
As the psychologists in the Firing Line episode discuss, an ideal society would be one where everyone has an equal opportunity to succeed and to allow their own gifts and talents to flourish. In general parlance, people refer to that as a meritocracy—a system whereby one is rewarded for what they have achieved rather than solely for their family background, academic pedigree, or characteristics like gender or race.
The meritocracy system has recently been called into question by Daniel Markovits in The Meritocracy Trap. As the title suggests, Makovits believes that meritocracy, as it is lived out today, traps its participants in an endless cycle that actually leaves society more stratified than it would be without their push for achievement. Those who achieve elite status only grow more elite and more distant from the middle class, leading to the opposite of an opportunity culture.
In 2004, I lived for the summer in New York City, and I remember reading a story about New York parents at the time trying to make sure their kids attended the most prestigious preschools they could find. These preschools had incredibly long waiting lists, cost a small fortune, and had rigorous admissions requirements. Acceptance rates rivaled the most selective colleges at the time. Parents sought out these schools for their children because it was the gateway to an elite path—ritzy preschool, advanced elementary school, fancy prep school (or boarding school), and an Ivy League university. Without getting into the “right” preschool as a first step, the rest seemed unattainable. Parents suffered severe depression when their children were not accepted into these preschools because they projected forward 20 years and saw their children leading average lives.
This is part of the cycle discussed by Markovits. As Americans, we generally support the idea that people can make of themselves whatever they want through hard work and determination. It’s part of the fallacy of the self-made man, but it also remains the American Dream. And as Markovits explains, it’s not exactly true. Or, at least, meritocracy has begun to play a different role in society, which leads not to achievement, but greater inequality—“greater” both in breadth and depth.
Years ago, meritocracy referred to how people could enter a particular line of work and progress through the ranks by the quality and quantity of their work. What Markovits calls “meritocratic inequality” results when those who originally climbed the ladder have become the new elites in society and outpace their peers in terms of income and social standing. Then these new elites pass down the benefits of their high incomes to their kids, meaning that their kids will get access to the best schools, tutors, extracurricular opportunities, etc. so that they can succeed. Those children then go to elite educational institutions (that become more elite, and less accessible to the general population, with each incoming class) and take the best jobs. They then give the same benefits to their children, and so on, until the cycle produces a chasm between these descendants of the new elite and their middle-class peers.
For the middle-class peers, the pressure from the new elites has not empowered them to strive for the same level of achievement, but is enervating. Rising levels of depression, drug addiction, and unemployment (“idleness” for Markovits) are signs of the growing ennui among the middle class. Many of the opportunities for middle-class workers to earn a good living in a factory or similar environment have vanished and due to the changes in the educational opportunities, many middle-class children do not see the point in striving for more. These middle class children have stopped dreaming the American Dream in favor of sleepwalking through their days.
But for all the negative effects on the middle class, Markovits argues that meritocracy is not good for the elites either. The elites are supposed to benefit the most from this cycle, but the increasing demands of work mean more working hours, less work-life balance, negative impacts on health and family life, and other negative results. The cycle of meritocracy is not something easily broken. And once an elite worker gets into the game, it is hard to break the cycle.
When the distinctions that Markovits discusses become cemented in society, they can lead in their extreme form to a caste society, as Isabel Wilkerson discusses in her book, Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents. A caste is, for Wilkerson, the unseen “infrastructure of our divisions.” (17) The
caste system is an artificial construction, a fixed and embedded ranking of human value that sets the presumed supremacy of one group against the presumed inferiority of other groups on the basis of ancestry and often immutable traits, traits that would be neutral in the abstract, but are ascribed life-or-death meaning in a hierarchy favoring the dominant caste whose forebears designed it. (17)
Castes are most often based on immutable traits, but they can develop and grow more solidified when one group takes control and develops overt policies based on the implied caste categories. Take Nazi Germany, for example. That is one of the examples Wilkerson returns to, along with the caste system in India and the racial castes of the American South. The ruling classes wrote into law and public policy the disenfranchisement of entire groups of people based mainly on race. Societies that allow for castes to develop experience a systemic version of the harm Markovits describes. The elite class—the ruling class—maintains power by maintaining the caste system, which prevents people in a lower caste from attempting to succeed through merit. The opportunities never arise.
Wilkerson concludes by pleading with her readers to overcome the sentiments that lead to a caste society because we can choose not to “judge[] on the very things we cannot change: a chemical in the epidermis, the shape of one’s facial features, the signposts on our body of gender and ancestry—superficial differences that have nothing to do with who we are inside.” (379-80)
Now go back to Firing Line. There, the psychologists are discussing equalization of opportunity in society and in education in particular. And one psychologists states: “if these talents [that society values] are somewhat genetic and run in families, then this world—this better world we are talking about—will have social classes, the classes will tend to run in families, and there you are, you will still have the class struggle.”
As the other psychologist in the discussion explains, “What constitutes what we call social class is a function of what we value. And if we value certain kinds of inherited traits above others, then those people that have those traits will indeed be more highly valued insofar as they are genetically determined.” Buckley, however, asks: “In a fluid society, there is no social standing that is absolutely rigid, is there?” “In an ideal society,” the psychologist responds. Buckley interjects, “Well, even in our own society—we can make heroes of anybody for any reason—and it is not a reflection of their IQ.”
Ultimately, they conclude: “Society does tend to converge on a collection of human of traits that it values and all though our society is pluralistic and although we may strive for even greater pluralism, there are social limitations on this that certain kinds of human traits are valuable to virtually any conceivable human society.”
People may think Buckley was being too optimistic or that he only had in mind certain exceptions to the rule. I think his viewpoint probably did not see the reality of the situation, but at the same time, I think his position is one we should adopt. It should be the case that “there is no social standing that is absolutely rigid” and that we can achieve great things no matter our starting point. But while individuals may rise from low positions to achieve greatness, it is still definitely not the case on a societal level.
So what do we value? Do we exalt certain inherited traits over others and create the caste system that Wilkerson describes? Do we foster an environment of ever higher achievement and competition that will trap our children, as Markovits argues? Perhaps a little of both?
It is easy to get a caste or meritocracy mindset when you are part of the ruling class or political party at any given time. Erik Baker argued this point in an opinion piece in the New York Times at the end of February:
For Mr. Musk and his associates, a herculean enthusiasm for work isn’t merely a way to get things done; it’s also a mark of innate superiority, a “superpower” that confers the right to impose their vision on the world. Mr. Musk’s decades in the highest echelons of the tech industry, surrounded by other executives who justified their lordship over their private empires by trumpeting their inexhaustible work ethic, have taught him that if you work harder than everyone else, you should be rewarded with unquestioned rule over your dominion.
Whether someone agrees with President Trump and Elon Musk’s efforts, the underlying issue is the same—elite workers have made work an end in itself, and some believe that working harder than others should result in becoming their leader. Yet this vision of the world—and the human person—neglects a lot of what make someone a full human being.
Two of my friends in different parts of the country are currently navigating the gauntlet of high school admissions with their children. Both had high-achieving kids, with one of them scoring extremely high on his standardized tests. And both of them are looking at high school options to avoid the meritocracy trap. In our discussions about it, they raised questions about peer groups, friends, proximity to home and activities, and academic rigor. In none of the conversations did one of them say that they wanted their child to go to School X because they are then more likely to go to University Y or get Job Z. They asked more about the school environment, the curriculum in light of the child’s learning style, and whether their children would have a good group of friends at the school. In other words, they looked at their children as whole people rather than seeking to maximize their achievement and future prospects.
A long-time law partner gave me a related piece of advice about the legal profession when I was a younger attorney. After 45 years of practicing law, he suggested that I learn to live on a modest income because then I would not be caught up by the pressure to work more to achieve a certain income and risk being stuck in a job I did not like. If I could be content with a good but not extravagant lifestyle, I would have more options in my career: to move out of a firm and work in-house for a company, work for the government, or pursue some other career entirely. He gave me that advice because he admitted that his career led him to be stuck in the cycle and because of his financial obligations, he could not get out.
Perhaps it is time to step back and reassess what we value—as individuals and as a society. We’ve done this collective exercise before: “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” for instance. Once those values are defined, we can create a society that gives everyone the opportunity to achieve those ends if they desire and truly to flourish as human beings.
Remember to turn every page. Enjoy your weekend. Please let me know whether you need anything.
Best, Aaron
Aaron, recently I heard a segment of a talk by Monsignor Shea of University of Mary, Bismarck, ND. Someone had asked him what he was doing to address the problem ennui among young adults, teenagers and college kids. His response was sort of like this: “maybe their listlessness is the appropriate response to being raised in a culture without God.” I think this is another way of stating what you are bringing up in this article. We are encouraged to pursue a life void of deeper meaning and substance and then wonder why we are left with sadness. I enjoy your thoughtful articles and I’m looking forward to your book.