The Elite Illusion
Why the Oligarch is a Mixture of the Proletarian and the Aristocrat
Abstract: Being “against the elite” is an ambiguous attitude. Which elite? The existence of the two elites goes back to18th century Europe when monarchies had just disappeared. Already at that time an educated middle class opposed a conservative elite that was more interested in science/technology and money. A cultural elite (called Bildungsbürger in Germany) opposed the techno-elite. Culturally speaking, the values and the tastes of the techno-elite came closer to those of the uneducated. Today, few people want to reinstall a monarchy, but what the masses desire is the type of 18th century aristocrat who is rich and at the same time conservative in terms of taste and aesthetics. Their alternative is the oligarch, who is the dialectical fusion of the aristocrat and the proletarian. Nothing is more opposed to the Bildungsbürger than the oligarch.
A similar though more generalist article by Thorsten Botz-Bornstein has been published in the Peace Magazine 2026 Vol. XLII: 1. The present article covers some additional aspects.
One of the more striking phenomena since the 1990s is the manner in which leftists have grown to be perceived as a new dishonest and cynical “elite” by a substantial part of the general population. This contrasts with the self-image of many leftists, who have generally thought of themselves as precisely opposed to such elites. A growing discourse on the right as well as among populists more broadly describes the liberal-left as an elite that needs to be combated.[1] The evolution can be traced to the complex fusion of leftism and liberalism that took place in postwar societies. In the West, leftism had become a cultural or counter-cultural phenomenon perfectly compatible with liberal views on politics and the economy.
A priori, leftism is associated with anti-establishment positions. In the world dominated by liberal ideas and institutions, being on the left implied an opposition to this liberal order, best encapsulated in the notion of bourgeois society. But in the post-war era, a series of processes resulted in the absorption of leftist ideas and movements into this liberal order, resulting in a largely unified left-liberal alliance, best typified by the liberal turn in the majority of erstwhile socialist parties in Europe.
This absorption was not even, however, with the liberal order largely maintaining control over the “harder” elements, notably economics remaining dominated by market thinking, while the “softer” domains of culture and art became increasingly left-coded. This left-anti-establishment “vibe” meant that the new left-liberals, although they largely dictated both policy and culture, also continued to feel as though they were in the opposition. It is thus appropriate to speak of two different kinds of elites: the techno-money elite and the cultural (managerial, academic, artistic) elite.
The change of the left’s status is a historical fact. In France, the remains of pre-war French historian Marc Bloch have recently been placed in the Panthéon to be laid to rest among those whom the nation wants to inscribe in its memory. Yet in his time, Bloch was a disruptor and sharp critic of interwar society and its hypocrisies. As a historian, he challenged established historical knowledge and thus precisely the elite. Having once been an enemy of elitist knowledge, Bloch now reposes in a very “elitist” setting. His books are on the syllabus of history classes and his views have become mainstream.
In general, the leftist counter-elite used to hold a critical counter-power and was expected to “think differently.” “Differently” meant, for example, to have new ideas about globalist integration or about how to eliminate borders and differences. These ideas were progressive though also aligned with the interests of capital. They were not opposed to the “system.” Today these same critics of the erstwhile existing order can be seen as responsible for the delocalization and de-nationalization of industries. Worse, left-liberals can be seen as the planners of crises, epidemics, and health terrorism, or as those who manipulate the press and control the education system. In the eyes of the supposedly homogenous mass called “the people,” the elite is a corrupt “deep state” composed of deluded ideologists. President Trump himself casts himself as an outsider battling a corrupt political establishment, bureaucrats, media elites, and liberal academics.
For the so-called “elite” this change is unbearable. Do they not want to protect “the people” from the misdeeds of multinational cartels? Do they not incessantly point out the duplicity of politicians who take advantage of the common good for their own benefit? The main concerns of the largest group of liberals are not transgenderism, and not even gender violence, but rather the politization of the Federal Reserve, of the Environmental Protection Agency, of the Securities and Exchange Commission, and of the departments of justice. Stock market watchdogs, who obviously are an “elite,” fight to prevent nations from descending into crony capitalism.
So, why have so many people come to see the left-liberal elite as the enemy of the people? One reason is that the left is also a cultural elite and thus has removed itself from the intellectual and aesthetic radar of the working class. This development started very early in Europe. In Germany in the late eighteenth century, the Bildungsbürgertum (the educated middle class) saw itself as a new elite steeped in humanism and general culture and opposed the older conservative elite that was often composed of scientists and engineers. The new bourgeois part of society was divided into two groups: a cultural elite and a technocratic one. Though severely diminished during the world wars and fought by the Nazis, some of the ideals of the Bildungsbürgertum survived in postwar progressive cultures.
In most nations, the convictions, tastes, and beliefs of educated and uneducated people differ. The former tend to conceive abstract ideas by means of which they often challenge common conceptions in politics, law, religion, and art. It does not mean that all those who do not challenge them are uneducated. A conservative elite whose values and taste were less progressive than that of the educated middle class has always existed. In Germany in the eighteenth century, this conservative elite that was opposed to the Bildungsbürgertum, was certainly educated but it used to be more interested in science and technology as well as in money.[2] Culturally speaking, the values and the taste of that elite came thus closer to that of the uneducated.
In the formation of the elites, art and taste are more important than it seems at first sight. Traditionally, aesthetics has been deemed a province of the elites because to produce art one needs time and money. The aristocracy or state-based money had art whereas common people were occupied satisfying their basic needs. In Greece, aristoi (ἄριστοι) meant ‘excellent’, which also had aesthetic undertones. The progressive middle-class elite (Bildungsbürgertum), which resembles today’s left-leaning liberal class, appropriated these ideals and combined them with critical philosophy. In the end, an aesthetic critique is able to tell the genuine from the fake or the true from the false, which can be used in various other domains (for example, aesthetically versed people criticize kitsch and commercialism).
Today, not only are leftists cultural, but culture is leftist, which is due not to economic or political biases in the first place but, again, also to “aesthetic” ones. Minorities and victims of racism and capitalism are simply more interesting for art, which creates a distance with “the people” who want common sense, traditional values, and kitsch. The progressive elite is not ready to give them these things. Eventually, this elite adopted the progressive and provocative values of the avantgarde, which recently became obvious for everybody. During the Paris Olympics opening ceremony in 2024, a mixture of burlesque, artistic experimentation, and provocative pop fascinated spectators all over the world. In a “postmodern” fashion, hierarchies that were anchored in nationalism or in distinctions between the official and the unofficial were happily abolished. However, those who did not share this taste – and there were many – could find the show offensive and emblematic of the moral relativism typical of the leftist elite.
While in the past, the avantgarde fought the conservative taste of the ruling elite, in the twenty-first century the avantgarde is the ruling elite. But the “cultural capital” that Bourdieu had designated in the twentieth century[3] as decisive for social ascent is no longer the capital that the masses desire. In their eyes, this capital is toxic.
The shift from an anti-elitist to an elitist identity is a common pattern. “Postmodernism” itself started out as an anti-elitist movement fighting the differences between high and low art. In architecture, postmodernism wanted to listen to “the people” and claimed that for too long architects had been listening to other architects only. The new architecture, so Robert Venturi suggested, should simply accept that “Main Street is Almost Alright.”[4] The problem is that “Main Street” did not understand postmodern architecture at all and found it weird. To them, postmodernism with its relativism, complexity, irony, and ambiguity, appeared like just another fad of the leftist elite. Who else could enjoy the buildings of Alessandro Mendini or the minimalist music of Philip Glass? Earlier, Pop Art, which never became popular art, had gone along the same pathway. Most people still see Campbell soup cans as non-art. The same happened to wokeness, which arguably evolved from an anti-elitist defense of the vulnerable to an elitist kind of formalism. Finally, the conservative “people” claim that the originally anti-elitist idea of free speech, which was originally meant to give a voice to those who are not the elite, is now used by a wokeist elite to push through their agendas and thus no real free speech.
Few people want to reinstall a monarchy, but what the masses apparently desire is the type of eighteenth-century aristocrat who is rich and conservative in terms of taste and aesthetics. Their alternative is the oligarch, who can be considered the dialectical fusion of the aristocrat and the proletarian. Nothing is more opposed to the Bildungsbürger than the oligarch.
It is fairly possible that the elite no longer understands the real needs of the population, and this not only in the realm of taste. Leftist preoccupations partly shifted toward problems that “the people” would see as “unreal,” meaning as no “real” problems such as transgender restrooms. While a large part of the leftist elite is still truly trying to solve some of “the peoples” real problems (the politization of the Federal Reserve, the emergence of crony capitalism, etc.), they are seen as part of the problems’ cause.
However, this alone does not explain the scope of the problem. The main reason is that the people themselves no longer see the politization of the Federal Reserve or crony capitalism as their own problems either. Unlike what was the case at the time of Marx, the elite-people distinction itself has shifted from the “real” to the realm of perceptions. Instead of talking about facts one talks about how various groups see facts; and the perceptions of the “elite” and the “anti-elite” are established accordingly.
The elite illusion paradigm can only be understood within the broader picture marked off by the immaterialization and the aesthetization of the entire economy that started about five decades ago. There are less facts and more perceptions. The proletariat itself has ceased to be a fact: in the globalized and outsourcing neoliberal economy, the proletariat no longer exists in the shape of a palpable group of individuals. The items that the economy produces are often immaterial too. Economies produce much informational and cultural content, which pleases, once again, the cultural elite. Today’s working skills involve cybernetics and the control of computers, and the products churned out are often commodities such as fashions, tastes, and public opinion. The cultural industry provides nothing objective but mainly subjective lifestyles. Everything is aesthetic.
The big administrative bodies are even worse: often they seem to produce nothing, as becomes clear in David Graeber’s work that designates “bullshit jobs” as a common “first world” problem.[5] The middle class (formerly called Bildungsbürgertum), though definitely vulnerable, is not trying to retrieve the real either and instead enjoys what Marx had called “false consciousness”: they manage their inherited property and buy bitcoins. When financial capitalism creates capital in such a mysterious fashion even for the middle class, reality is definitely lost.
Within the perceived world of immateriality there are still pockets of “real” proletarians: ageing survivors of the old economy who reside around closed-down and polluted factory grounds. It is not they who will understand the economy as it “really” is. Instead, they will find themselves plunged into another dreamworld where neither workers nor production owners, nor products are discernable. They create their own explanations that turn out to be even more unreal than the things they are trying to explain; they create conspiracy theories. These remaining real people are desperately trying to fill the void of reality with alternative explanations of what they believe is “real.” With conspiracy theories comes the attraction of authoritarian regimes and oligarchs. A strong leader will bring back reality while democracy is only a sham: it is no more real than bitcoins, bullshit jobs, or modern art.
Despite all this, I believe that we can be optimistic. Things are about to change, and this big change is called Trump II. The elite has officially switched sides. The former anti-elite has gotten the authoritarian regime they wanted, and as a result, logically, they are now themselves the elite. It might take time, but things evolve. Already, Trump politicizes the Federal Reserve, the Environmental Protection Agency, and the departments of justice. He dopes the stock market to foster crony capitalism, and left-liberals can now conveniently be against it. Things have fallen back into place. The left is the opposition, which means that it is once again real. If they are intelligent enough and grasp this opportunity, if they forget a little about transgender restrooms and discover that there are many real problems ahead, they might indeed be able to leave the desert of the unreal. Even the later Marx ceased to focus on consciousness issues and immersed himself in the critique of political economy. There is a reality made of multinational cartels, conspiratorial influencers, and Trumps out there. The new anti-elite must become Bildungsbürger and develop a critical counter-power to become the disruptors of the anti-knowledge the new elite now distributes. Hundred years ago, in Germany, a leftist-liberal elite opposed a techno-money elite. They were not successful, but maybe they can have a second chance.
[1] William Genieys and Mohammad-Saïd Darviche. 2023. Elites, Policies and State Reconfiguration: Transforming the French Welfare Regime. International series on public policy. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan.
[2] Ursula Klein. 2020. “Science, industry, and the German Bildungsbürgertum”. Annals of Science. 77 (3): 375–376.
[3] Pierre Bourdieu. 1979. “Les trois états du capital culturel” in Actes de la Recherche en Sciences Sociales 30, 3-6.
[4] Robert Venturi, Denise Scott Brown, and Steven Izenour. 1972. Learning from Las Vegas. Cambridge: MIT Press.
[5] David Graeber. 2018. Bullshit Jobs: A Theory. New York: Simon and Schuster.