ARE OUR ELITES GETTING UNEASY?

A jolt of optimism for the New Year – Are our elites beginning to feel uncomfortable? Well, let’s not be too optimistic and rephrase – Are certain elements within the elite beginning to feel uncomfortable?

The question occurred to me upon encountering this piece in the NYT:

Quote: “[…] there is broad agreement among police chiefs that the dwindling of the law enforcement talent pool is directly, though not exclusively, linked to the murder of Mr. Floyd [!] by the Minneapolis police and the widespread protests and unrest that followed.”

Are certain elements within our well-heeled urban elite so terrified of the violence and filth that are now the reality in our major cities, that the NYT is now allowed to address it? Can we now discuss the inadequacy of our urban police departments and even the hushed-up yet well-documented Floyd effect?

Are we sending a whiff of buyer’s remorse?

So I decided to look for more signs of potential elite distress.

There’s this from the Atlantic, always a barometer of contemporary allowed opinion among the generic yet pretentious professional crowd.

And there is this from The Economist, everybody’s easy-to-guess magazine where every piece is a passionate paean to the “rules-based international order:”

And let’s not forget the most passive-aggressive mea culpa in history, once again from the Atlantic (paraphrasing: “I and my peers who were clamoring for lockdowns and rejoicing in the closures of schools and churches were wrong, but it’s mean to blame us now!”):

So what is happening? It’s difficult to say for sure, but there are signs that elements within the outer layers of the elite – meaning, not the serious power brokers nor the hyper-ideological cadre – are beginning to feel uncomfortable. Childless Paige or Meghan probably do not care. Committed Bolsheviks, they see the firey Revolution as the demonic fruit of their otherwise barren wombs.

But Karen and Neil from the townhouse down the street, as obnoxious as they may be, do care. They do not wish to see little Parker undergo a sex change. Nor do they wish little Chloe to suffer the trauma of backseat carjacking.

Perhaps some Karens and Neils can pretend there are no poop-covered train cars or needle-strewn streets. Maybe they travel out of town a lot or maybe they live in Palo Alto. But in places like Manhattan, which is a rather compact island, even denizens of the once lovely Upper East Side cannot pretend they live in an Eden. The filth and violence are under their noses and their children are necessarily exposed to it.

And so they have to make a choice that other members of the elite are free from making – do I sacrifice my children for my ideology? Most parents, including aspiring members of the upper middle classes, are not as psychotic as to rejoice in their children’s discomfort, even if that is the price for the blessings of diversity.

So they are getting uneasy. Mind you, not as uneasy as to join us untouchables among the fascist-transphobic-xenophobic ranks of the Right, but they are uneasy.

For generations, the easiest solution for the tragic conflict between one’s piety towards one’s family and one’s ideological craze, has been to move to a nice suburb. From there, from the safe distance of a 50s-like well-manicured environment, it’s very easy to preach transgenderism, mass immigration, and diversity without any of the consequences. But that avenue is not necessarily easy. Housing in the immediate suburbs of NYC, DC, and San Francisco is very expensive and has long been maxed out. One could surely move further out, but what happens then to the urban bliss of a Sex and a City life so beloved by the brunching classes?

So they are getting uneasy indeed.

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