Elitism and the Heart of Institutional Distrust

Why the Road to Elitism Arrives in Hell

“They constantly try to escape

From the darkness outside and within

By dreaming of systems so perfect that no one will need to be good.

But the man that is will shadow

The man that pretends to be.”

—T.S. Eliot, The Rock, Chorus VI

The spirit of the age since the dawn of time has and will ever be the cry echoed in the lines of John Milton’s epic poem, Paradise Lost, where Satan himself screams, [1] “Better to reign in Hell, then serve in Heav’n.” The zeitgeist has defined only the self as worthy of trusting, but this itself cannot be. The logical syllogism in the mind of the contemporary man is as follows: the institution is not worth trusting; the self is all I can trust; therefore, I will focus on shaping the world in my own image—the image of my own personal utopia. The institutions of this world have failed, and they must be subverted to bring about true freedom. They are—in themselves— full of corrupt individuals who desire nothing more than to choke our freedom, wringing out every last drop of individual agency. Standing as a bulwark against the encroachments of this institutional evil, contained within our minds lies our own contrived beatific vision of the way things should be. This is the nexus point between our distrust of institutions and the educational remediation necessary to truly free us from our own faulty conviction that espouses, [2] “[t]o reign is worth ambition though in Hell.”

Within the domain of education, the topic of institutional distrust is especially pertinent as it pertains to the more focused discussion of elitism. Being an ongoing discussion, the climate in the time of William F. Buckley at Yale in 1951 was indicative of what is occurring now more broadly. Within the ivory towers of the supposed unchecked professors at Yale, lay an elitist sentiment to forgo alumni, parental, or undergraduate opinion and unilaterally dictate the aims of higher education itself. 

The very proposition that higher education could become tainted by elitism—and thus subject to institutional distrust—is indicative of a much deeper phenomenon: one in which man elevates himself as the sole arbiter of how things ought to be. This is the heart of elitism. If education is the prime meridian for grasping our necessity as humans to serve that which is worthy of serving, the prime meridian for elitism is man’s own personal utopia. Though man may be [3] “the heart of society,” he cannot be the reference point for interfacing with reality by which we come to understand our true desires, affections, and holistic function, because this is the job of education. To reject the terms of education is to reject its prerequisite humility and instead embrace the untouchable sentiment of the elite. It is the hubris of man that prevents him from engaging with education on its own terms. 

Jean Daniélou condemned this ethos of elitism insofar as he had [4] “no liking for Christians who will not touch the facts of human existence for fear of soiling their hands.” If the facts of human existence are obviated in the mind of the arrogant, this compels him to superimpose a utopia where things are perfected beyond reality. Hence, there is no need for a concept of right and wrong or good and bad people because the self is all that matters. This inculcates a profound apathy to disregard the function of education in favor of the focus of elitism, prizing the personal utopia as primary object of desire. 

The apathy thereof hampers the ubiquitous spiritual hunger or curiosity implicit within man. This is the death of consciousness and the creation of a self-centered and egotistical people. Though he is free of masters, man is alone. Instead of free, he is deprived of that which makes him human: his communion—ironically preventing him from freely being human. This is because elitism is anti-institutional. It stands in direct opposition to anything stable, being solely predicated on the self.

Living in the anti-institutional world, has “rendered us all simultaneously parishioner, high priest, and deity” where we are simply [5] “too special, too unique, too singular for the communal demands of ordinary, traditional religion…” If we so audaciously believe ourselves to be deity, we are choosing to dull our synderesis, in opposition to our convictions we hold as intrinsic to our moral and rational nature. Consciousness becomes our hell because it frustrates our desire to be God as we realize that we remain [6] “less then he.” We would be unwise to dupe ourselves into believing our personal utopia is heaven. We cannot escape from the glaring reality that it is indeed hell without the sublime ignorance that follows the complete eradication of consciousness. 

In the show, Hunter × Hunter, the main antagonist Meruem, realizes this state of hell as he cannot ignore his awareness to the fact that he is alone and aimless. Trusting that his overwhelming power and ability to enact his will may liberate him from meaninglessness, Meruem is free to “reign secure, and in [his] choyce,” as if “th’ Almighty hath not built” the way to find freedom already. The consciousness of his own position is his hell. In a riotous panic, Meruem realizes that the hell he has brought upon himself has reduced his life to tedium, as he cries:

[7] “Who am I? Why am I here? A king with no name. A borrowed castle. My subjects are mindless drones. If this is the mandate of Heaven I have been given… I fear… I fear nothing… except the tedium that it will bring!!!”

Notes

[1] John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book 1, Line 263.

[2] John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book 1, Line 262.

[3] Robert Maynard Hutchins, The Conflict in Education in a Democratic Society, pg. 69.

[4] Jean Daniélou, Prayer as a Political Problem, pg. 46.

[5] Tara Burton, Strange Rites: New Religions for a Godless World, pg. 242.

[6] John Milton, Paradise Lost, Book 1, Line 257.

[7] Yoshihiro Togashi, Hunter × Hunter, Charge: Part 1.