David Brooks offers a helpful framework when he describes three kinds of snobbery that quietly organize modern life: dominance, success, and virtue. The uncomfortable truth is that almost all of us participate in at least one of them—often without realizing it.
Dominance snobbery is the most obvious and the oldest. It’s rooted in hierarchy and power: I’m above you. Titles, authority, social rank, and control define worth. While less visible than in aristocratic societies, it still shows up in boardrooms, institutions, and family systems where power speaks louder than wisdom. It’s very evident in the White House these days.
Success snobbery is far more familiar in contemporary culture. This is the snobbery of achievement: I’ve done more than you. Résumés become identity. Productivity becomes morality. Alain de Botton, in Status Anxiety, reminds us that modern societies replaced inherited rank with earned success—but didn’t reduce anxiety. They amplified it. When worth is tied to achievement, failure doesn’t just hurt; it humiliates.
Then there’s the most socially acceptable—and arguably most corrosive—form: virtue snobbery. This is the quiet conviction that I’m more enlightened than you. It lives in our politics, our wellness choices, our parenting philosophies, our cultural tastes. Virtue snobbery rarely announces itself as superiority; it disguises itself as concern, correctness, or moral clarity. You see this kind of virtue signaling often on the left politically. De Botton warns that virtue-based status games are especially dangerous because they allow us to feel righteous while we judge. We don’t think we’re looking down on others—we think we’re standing up for something.
The invitation here isn’t shame; it’s self-recognition.
So ask yourself:
- Where do I subtly signal that I’m winning at life?
- When do my values become weapons rather than bridges?
- Do I measure my worth by power, productivity, or purity?
Snobbery, at its core, is a way of protecting our fragile sense of worth by comparison. The antidote—according to both Brooks and de Botton—is not superiority, but dignity without ranking.
And perhaps one of the great midlife tasks is this: learning how to lay down our favorite form of snobbery and pick up something quieter, sturdier, and more generous instead.
-Chip