Know your place
Now there are hierarchies only if there are people at the bottom
of them. The advocates of self-esteem are so exercised by this fact
that they try to invert the social spectrum, to represent the bottom
as the top and the top as the bottom. Slovenly speech is praised as
socially authentic, and ignorance as ‘difference’. All forms of
knowledge that require aptitude or work, or which aspire to a higher
culture than that of the street, are dismissed as ‘elitist’ and
driven to the edge of the curriculum. The music mistress who wishes
to help her class to understand sonata form and its role in the
classical symphony will be criticised for the ‘irrelevance’ of her
lessons, which ought instead to be concentrating on the kind of
music that young people prefer — Oasis, for instance. The suggestion
that we ought to be teaching young people to prefer something better
will be dismissed as arrogant and oppressive. This anti-elitism has
the reverse effect of that intended, since it confines young people
to the social position from which they start. But it has shaped the
national curriculum in all the subjects that were once devoted to
perpetuating our culture, and which are now devoted to flattering
the child.
In an essay written over a century ago the philosopher F.H.
Bradley reflected on ‘my station and its duties’, and said that the
human being becomes what he truly is only by realising his freedom
in society, and each act of self-realisation involves creating and
adopting a social station. Whether you are rich or poor, smooth or
rough, leisured or banausic, you become what you are through the
circles of influence and affection that distinguish you. Unhappiness
comes from being discontented with your station, while lacking the
means to change it. And for all of us there comes a point when we
settle in a social position which we have neither the power nor the
will to change. It is from this sense of our social station that our
duties emerge, Bradley argues. There is no single set of
obligations, no ‘duty for duty’s sake’, that applies to all mankind.
Each of us is encumbered by the duties of his station and happiness
comes through fulfilling them. However humble your position, it
comes to you marked with the distinction between right and wrong — a
right way of occupying your station and a wrong way. Your duties may
take the form of a professional ethic, of a specific role like that
of doctor or teacher, of an office like that of prime minister. They
might even take the onerous hereditary form of those imposed on
Prince Charles as the Prince of Wales — duties which he takes
extremely seriously.
If Bradley is right, then it is through the idea of duty that we
come to feel content with our lot. The culture of self-esteem wants
everybody to feel OK about themselves, regardless of merit. True
self-esteem, however, comes through the sense of being right with
others and deserving their esteem, which in turn depends upon
fulfilling the duties of your station. The office cleaner who
conscientiously does her job is rewarded with the friendship of the
workers whom she benefits. It does not matter that her social
position is a humble one; for by occupying it rightly she earns a
place in society as honourable as any other. This is what George
Herbert had in mind in those lines made famous by the Victorian
hymn:
A servant with this clause
Makes drudgery divine:
Who
sweep a room as for Thy laws
Makes that and th’ action fine.
It follows that a society can be hierarchically ordered without
being oppressive. For every station has its duties, the performance
of which is both an end in itself and a passport to social
affection. And through education, ambition and hard work you can
change your station, to arrive at the place that matches your
achievements and which, through performing its duties, you possess
as your own.
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