'I'm awfully glad I'm a Beta' - Notes on the British elite

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The Cult of the Proudly Ignorant

You hear it often enough: the celebrated columnist confessing, “I was never any good with numbers,” or the progressive politician admitting that they “never got through Das Kapital”.

These aren’t real apologies; they’re credentials. Such gestures signal belonging to a class that prizes intuition over intellect, confidence over competence. It’s anti-intellectualism from above, that aristocratic disdain for the effort of understanding.

In the old days, the British elite called it breeding. To study was vulgar; to “just know” was class. The modern equivalent is the public sneer at maths, theory, or anything that hints at obsession.

Trying too hard remains the unforgivable sin.

There’s a gendered variant too: the lifestyle writer's performative helplessness - “I’m hopeless with sums, like you!” - as a ritual of approachability. Those with cultural capital pretending to be ordinary.

Meanwhile, the genuinely bright, without connections, must rely on skill alone, rising in those few fields where ability still matters: science, technology, sometimes finance. Everywhere else, Dunbar’s law rules: networks of 150 aimed ruthlessly at keeping power among friends and heirs.

“I’m awfully glad I’m a Beta, because I don’t work so hard,” was the full quote. But today's Betas do.