When The Spectator cheers for elitism, you know we’re in for a spicy take. The article in question champions one of Britain’s most exclusive schools, leaning hard into the idea that unapologetic excellence—not apologetic mediocrity—should be celebrated. And honestly? I’m here for it.
We live in an era where “elite” has become a dirty word. Every institution, from universities to private clubs, is scrambling to diversify, democratize, or disguise its standards. But this school—let’s call a spade a spade—doesn’t bother. It produces leaders, thinkers, and innovators who often go on to shape the world. And it does so by refusing to lower its bar.
Now, before you roll your eyes at yet another defense of privilege, hear me out. The real scandal isn’t that elite schools exist. It’s that they are *rare*. The problem is not that too many people get a world-class education, but that too few do. If Britain’s state schools could borrow just a fraction of the rigor, the discipline, and the sheer intellectual ambition found in places like Eton or Harrow, we’d see a very different national conversation.
The article rightly points out that this school doesn’t apologize for its standards. It doesn’t water down its curriculum or its ethos to appease critics. And while we can debate the ethics of inherited privilege, we cannot ignore the results: students who leave prepared to lead, create, and argue.
In a culture obsessed with leveling down, there’s something almost refreshing about an institution that levels up—unashamedly, unapologetically. Three cheers, then, for refusing to pretend that all outcomes are equal. The school doesn’t solve inequality, but it does prove that elite education still works. Maybe the real lesson is that we should demand the same quality for everyone—not tear down the few who achieve it.
