The destructive power of a meritocratic conceit
Michael Sandel, a professor at Harvard University, just traveled to India. His ability to lift philosophy out of the realm of abstract concepts and connect complex ideas, like the discussions around “justice,” to current social, political, and existential concerns is what makes him unique. In addition, he encourages “non-academic” residents to reflect on and reevaluate their surroundings as well as their pupils. The intellectual and cultural elite took an interest in him after seeing him speak at lectures and in interviews in India. The main question, however, is whether his ideas can really assist us in taking significant action regarding the social and political realities that exist in modern-day India.
Consider the lessons we might learn from his fantastic book, The Tyranny of Merit. First of all, let’s acknowledge that there is no fair race or competition in the game of “meritocracy” in a nation like ours that is notorious for extreme caste and class disparities.
In comparison to the children of Dalit wage earners or lower middle-class factory workers, those who are already privileged—that is, students whose upper-caste or affluent parents can send them to elite or exclusivist “international” schools, or who can afford to pay a hefty “capitation fee” for admission in medical, engineering, or management colleges—are likely to prove their “merit” more easily. However, Sandel contends that even a “fair meritocracy”—that is, one in which all people begin at the same place and there are no caste or class distinctions—is a poor notion because it is “corrosive of civic responsibilities.” The reason for this is that it is very difficult for individuals who win the race and consider themselves to be “meritorious” to acquire humility and thankfulness since they are prone to believing that they are self-made and independent.
As Sandel reminds us, “it is hard to care for the common good” without these feelings. In actuality, this “dark side” of meritocracy undermines the value of labor and gives the impression that the affluent are superior to many individuals, including delivery workers, grocery store clerks, warehouse workers, truck drivers, farmers, and craftsmen who have not attended college. Indeed, as a civic virtue, humility is an essential “counterbalance to the meritocratic hubris that has driven us apart.” Are we willing to concede that there has to be a redistribution of both money and respect in a society that is defined by the harsh dichotomy of “mental” vs. “manual” labor?
The very divisive political climate in our country is another unsettling aspect. The intelligentsia, which is secular, liberal, left, and progressive, keeps talking about equality, democracy, and scientific thinking. The politics that support Narendra Modi, however, appear nearly unstoppable given his meteoric ascent to prominence as the most powerful and populist Prime Minister.
These politics are rooted in intensely patriotic feelings and a desire to restore the “lost” Hindu symbols and identities. The impoverished and oppressed are often misled by the language of modern populist politics. Why does this occur? Sandel, however, saw this kind of populist politics as a “rebellion” against “technocratic liberalism” when considering the development of Trumpism in the US. He believes that this kind of liberalism is more palatable to the professional classes than to those in the middle and lower classes.
The question is whether “nationalist” politics based on religious symbols appeal to the impoverished and oppressed in modern India more than liberal or leftist politics, which emphasize “secular” needs like employment, housing, and education, or the necessity of scientific reasoning. The incapacity of progressive political ideologues or intellectual proponents to comprehend the causes of the ire and complaints of the people may be a significant contributing factor to the political movement’s collapse. They also ignore the way that the “meritorious” cultural elites denigrate the “non-educated” masses.
The issue is whether India’s progressive political and intellectual elites are prepared to engage in serious self-reflection and consider whether they have ever attempted to comprehend the feelings, rage, and cultural longing of people who, for example, have been on the verge of hypnosis due to the chant of “Jai Shri Ram.”
Recalling that the populist protest is about social esteem and not just wages and jobs, Sandel emphasizes that the progressive class should take heed of these sentiments and learn from them, “not by emulating its xenophobia and strident nationalism, but by taking seriously the grievances with which these sentiments are entangled.” Since democracy is a public culture centered on discussion and debate, listening skills are thus essential for both liberals and conservatives, to paraphrase Sandel. But the real issue is whether we are prepared to absorb this lesson in democratic discourse in this very poisonous and polarized political environment.
Lastly, he has warned us about the danger of being in a “market society” that permits the encroachment of market values into areas of life where they have no business being there in his book What Money Can’t Buy. For example, the fact that “spiritual” teachings are marketed as commodities suggests that our culture is morally deficient. Is it feasible for us to agree with Sandel that “there are certain moral and civil goods that markets do not honour and money can’t buy” given how dominant proponents of market fundamentalism and neoliberalism are growing in modern-day India?
