Hoi polloi (Greek: οἱ πολλοί, hoi polloi, “the many”), a Greek expression meaning “the many” or, in the strictest sense, “the majority”, is used in English to refer to the working class, commoners, the masses or common people in a derogatory sense. Synonyms for hoi polloi which also express the same or similar contempt for such people include “the great unwashed”, “the plebeians” or “plebs”, “the rabble”, “riff-raff“, “the herd”, “the proles” and “peons” (“Wikipedia”). You’ll grant that the connotation of the term hoi polloi is common knowledge. What, however, I derive of particular reputation from this etymology is the admittedly narrow point that it is held by some redundant to say “the hoi polloi” for I understand that “hoi” is the definite article. Others however take the view that “…once established in English, expressions such as hoi polloi are treated as a fixed unit and are subject to the rules and conventions of English (Oxford)”. Amusingly hoi polloi is sometimes used incorrectly to mean “upper class”, likely a confusion that arose by association with the similar-sounding but otherwise unrelated expression “hoity-toity” (itself from the now obsolete “hoit” meaning to indulge in riotous mirth, perhaps later connected with “haughty”, pretentiously self-important, pompous).

Whichever term is applied, there is an element of scorn attached to either hoi polloi or hoity-toity. This polar similarity captures what is in the result called snobbery. Seen from either perspective, the hoi polloi and the hoity-toity are regarded with disdain, the masses for their apparent lack of culture, the bourgeoisie for their imitation of aristocracy. In either case snobbery stigmatises a class to which one does not belong.

Snobbery figures prominently in more than one Hollywood film and British novel. It is the fodder of fashion and social codes. When one “class” (itself a derogatory term) is set against another, the fireworks begin. The difference of the classes is frequently the toxin for advancement of relationships, whether it is between male and female, same–sex couples, young and old, rich or poor (and very often a mixture of all the above). Dichotomy is the root of discovery when it comes to interactions (consider Wodehouse’s heroes trying to marry chorus girls). It is recurrently characterized as a “power struggle”. Less kindly it is said that snobbery is a defensive expression of social insecurity. For example William Hazlitt observed in a culture where deference to class was accepted as a positive and unifying principle, “Fashion is gentility running away from vulgarity and afraid of being overtaken by it”, adding subversively, “It is a sign the two things are not very far apart.” Snobbery is less about acknowledging the superiority of others than about aping them.

With the rise of the middle class (wherein a third of the most well-off, high status people consider themselves to be working class), the utility of distinguishing oneself by language, schooling and your shopping bag doesn’t go far to make anyone better than another. The ubiquity of “knock-off” clothing, watches and jewellery makes the dedication even less persuasive. It is even becoming more fashionable to avoid the very trademarks of superiority which once identified the snob – over-sized automobiles, monster houses, bling, etc. Hollywood has once again led the charge by the adoption of what is now considered environmentally friendly materialism.

Nonetheless history suggests that snobbery is not about to die, it is remarkably durable. It continues to insinuate itself into the body of our society. The gentlemen of cricket, a world of butlers and sherry is not lost on the professional sportsmen who now get paid to imitate them: “Ideas travel upwards, manners downwards (Bulwer-Lytton).” George Orwell: “I suppose there is no place in the world where snobbery is quite so ever-present or where it is cultivated in such refined and subtle forms as in an English public school. Here at least one cannot say that English ‘education’ fails to do its job. You forget your Latin and Greek within a few months of leaving school — I studied Greek for eight or ten years, and now, at thirty-three, I cannot even repeat the Greek alphabet — but your snobbishness, unless you persistently root it out like the bindweed it is, sticks by you till your grave.”

Yet as much as the British are wont to appropriate snobbery to themselves, the animated delineation between one class and another is not reserved to them alone. Snobbery is after all little more than a pretension with regard to one’s own tastes, whatever they may be, rather than a yearning to associate with those of higher social status. Our singular preferences inevitably drive us to condescend to those with different tastes.

Lately I have privately lamented that the typical education of our children does not include what I call “life’s lessons”, that is, those ordinary pronouncements which go beyond the drudgery of specific disciplines and which are directed instead to the general and perhaps less dazzling deportment of one’s daily affairs. When formal education is over, after high-school and university (after the endorsement of one’s thesis for a Master’s Degree or Doctorate), the unsuspecting young adult is thrown into the heartless forum of commerce and retail, perfidious “real life”. On the heels of what is commonly the deprivation of youth and the fiction of scholarship (during which reality is temporarily suspended), one is subsequently served up endless choices many of which are motivated by postponed craving. This enthusiasm needs to be curbed by informed intelligence. Recognizably we are a consumptive society and the unchecked submission to its urges is an inevitable malignancy.

Recently I read with interest that Justin Bieber (the Canadian pop musician, actor and singer-songwriter) is promoting a debit card for young people. At first blush this seems both maverick and unwise. Pointedly however he noted that whether you earn $100 per year or $100M per year, if you spend more than you make, you’re broke. This axiomatic intelligence is intoxicating. It is both blunt and obvious but that is what is needed. Mr. Bieber went on to confide to his faithful youthful audience that one has to save a little, spend a little. Again, this is the evident caution but nonetheless sage advice that was so lacking when I was growing up. I know that Mr. Bieber is undoubtedly paid handsomely by SmartCard for his endorsement but I think it is worth every dollar.

As much as I might prefer to think that any wisdom I have assimilated over the years is the product of my own inventiveness, the sad fact remains that I am the last person to appropriate such celebrity. Admittedly it is only by stark realisation that I have any claim whatsoever to the probity of life’s lessons. Now with the benefit of age, experience and repeated mistakes, the proven truths by which to conduct one’s life literally scream at me. For example, I am unceasingly impressed by those who adopt a candid approach to life. This may seem to trivialize the posture, but candidness is anything but inconsequential. The ability to see the pores and poisons of life is no small accolade; and the inclination and resolution to express them is an even greater tribute.

Recognizing the rigidity of life is very much a part of the adjustment to its exigencies, everlasting concepts such as supply and demand. Nonetheless such uninspiring notions, as important as they are to a theory of economics, have been dismissed as the painful elaboration of the obvious. Retailing such mundane truths especially to young people who believe their frontiers are endless is an up-hill battle. It is equally monotonous to market the counsel that indulgence in superfluity, while temporarily satisfying, is destined to the same garbage heap of irrelevance as any other vanity.

Blazing ostentation is not something peculiar only to the former Roman emperors. The difference is they frequently had the wherewithal to support such vulgarity. It is however a derivative lesson that behaving like an emperor is the surest way to procure your early demise. Children need to be taught that having the fastest, the biggest, the best and the most are not useful paradigms by which to live. Such instruction however goes entirely against the grain of society. Modesty is hardly a popular commodity and it is more often than not equated with deficiency.

The balancing of one’s resources includes of course one’s physical resources. Movements in the United States against obesity are long overdue. Children must be warned against plundering their personal capital of health without which naturally all else is lost.

I am aware that many of life’s lessons come off as negative and for that reason alone are less than appetizing. Yet all of us know that if we had been more studied in our approach to living we could have spared ourselves a great deal of trouble. This leaves me wondering why in the world we haven’t any courses in our schools which tackle life’s lessons. Granted it is not easy to formulate instruction on the mere topic of living but I can’t but think it would be worth the effort.