J'suis snob
Superiority or Discernment?
“I’m not a snob. Ask anybody. Well, anybody who matters.” — Simon Le Bon
It’s sometimes said that the word “snob” originates from the Latin sine nobilitate (“without nobility”), used in abbreviated form — s.nob — on lists of names by Cambridge colleges, passenger ships etc. to distinguish between titled and non-titled. Today individuals, groups, clubs and even government policies are frequently referred to as “snobby”, and it’s often hard to keep up, especially as “inverted snobbery” is increasingly on the rise. For decades many aspects of snobbery have been mercilessly mocked, a characteristic that was charmingly satirized by French polymath Boris Vian in his 1955 song J’suis snob, in which he mockingly croons: “J’suis snob, Encore plus snob que tout à l’heure, Et quand je serai mort, J’veux un suaire de chez Dior” (I’m a snob, Even more snobbish than before, And when I’m dead, I want a shroud from chez Dior). It’s something of a bizarre characteristic with which many have a love-hate relationship; and of course, as society changes, so to do those things people en masse feel justified in looking down their noses at. According to anachronistic “society bible” Tatler being a snob simply wasn’t acceptable in the midst of a global pandemic — but this year, as things have once again returned to some semblance of normality, it felt justified in publishing it’s annual “Guide to Snobbery” (in the full knowledge it will lure in a gaggle of hot under the collar journalists, keen to express their righteous indignation, thereby bagging them valuable column inches). If you happen to care what a magazine last relevant in the mid-1980s deems socially acceptable, in summary; we can have dirty cars, wear Crocs, watch Love Island and buy screw-top wins, but Prosecco, indoor plants, influencers and “being asked to take off your shoes when entering someone’s house” are all strict no-nos. Somewhat confusingly, given its extensive list of 53 “dos” and “don’ts” it informs us we should be “ruthlessly snobby about other peoples misplaced snobbishness”, presumably under the premise that it’s staff are veritable arbiters of good taste and refinement.
“Untitled (Bernstein 80-52)”, by minimalist artist Donald Judd, shown at the Mnuchin Gallery, New York
An immersive installation by minimalist artist Sol LeWitt, shown at the Sfeir-Semler Gallery, Hamburg, 2002
Of course, the idea of “snobbery” is increasingly being expanded to include all sorts of political and cultural issues. Recently for e.g. in a letter published in The Guardian, Jonathan Hewett criticized a call by the Office for Students (OfS) that Universities in England penalize “poor writing skills” — suggesting that such a policy is merely a guise for class snobbery, and would “punish those from the wrong sort of background, and give unfair advantage to those who have had the benefit of the ‘right sort’ of parents, with the money and time to instil particular writing skills in their children”. OfS Director of Regulation Susan Lapworth has explained the policy by stating that “the practice of ignoring poor language skills was both patronising” and “threatens to undermine standards [and] public confidence in the value of a degree”. Whatever the merits of assessing proficiency in written English, it would seem the OfS faces something of an uphill struggle, with the University of Hull purportedly adopting a new “inclusive” marking policy, which states that a “homogenous North European, white, male, elite mode of expression” puts students whose first language is not English at a disadvantage. In a country rife with class differences and practices that have traditionally excluded those who are not considered by the “establishment” to be the “right sort”, i.e. children of working class families, it’s understandable that divisions run deep and that inevitably some will be “triggered” by what they perceive to be further exclusionary tactics. On the flip side of “snobbery”, “inverted snobbery is defined as “the attitude of seeming to despise anything associated with wealth or social status, while at the same time elevating those things associated with lack of wealth and social position”. One might justifiably ask if it’s not just as bad as snobbery, being a somewhat unpleasant “trait caused by a person’s belief that he or she is inherently better than others”. Yet, inverted snobbery is widely deemed acceptable, a common characteristic of political discourse, used to fan the flames of populist sentiment. Culture Secretary Nadine Dorries speaking at the recent Tory party conference, presumably keen to play on her working class background, set out her culture brief in inflammatory terms of class war, alleging the unenthusiastic reception she received from the art world at large was “a blowback of left-wing snobbishness and elitism” from people who “found themselves where they were through a privileged background … and nepotism”. Leaving aside any question of whether or not Dorries has a point (and for that matter, the politics of envy seldom succeed at the ballot box), inverted snobbery is often a crutch used by those who either don’t understand, or feel excluded by, certain sectors, or elements, of the art world.
“Untitled” (Chemo) (1991), a minimalist instillation by Felix Gonzalez-Torres
This is perhaps understandable, as since time immemorial such “elitist practices” — including, but not limited to, theatre, dance, television and film — have relied on unpaid graduate internships as a gateway into a career in the art world (A 2018 report by the Sutton Trust revealed that 86% of interns in the UK’s creative sector were unpaid); paired with a tendency to offer them as informal “favours” to family and friends, which makes such professions an impossibility the majority of those from moderate and low-income backgrounds, without the connections or the “bank of mum and dad” to rely on. Of course, trying to break through a glass ceiling into the art world is not the only struggle facing those from poorer socio-economic backgrounds; the love of art and design should of course be a visceral, emotional experience, but often, a lack of understanding results in feelings of exclusion and victimization. Artist, writer and broadcaster Grayson Perry (b. 1960) has in the past spoken out about the vital role schools play in exposing children to culture — thereby giving everyone in society the same opportunities, rather than leaving it to parental chance. This is, essentially, the key to improving the perception of modern, contemporary, and in particular, minimalist art; thereby making it seem more accessible and lessening the need to result to inverted snobbery as a means to counter perceived art world hostility.
In an article entitled “Why has looking at art in Britain become a snob’s rite of passage?”, journalist Jonathan Jones discusses the work of French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu (1930-2002), who in his book Distinction showed that in France, at the time of writing, people at the very top of the elite with the greatest “cultural capital” were more likely to favour minimalism. “I’ve never entirely trusted minimalist art since reading this. It just seems so true,” Jones postulates. “To be refined is to distance yourself from dirt: the most refined modern art is surely a minimalist work like a Donald Judd stack. The simplicity and austerity of minimalism is today’s most dramatic assertion of superiority,” concluding that, “Once upon a time, the snobs went to see cathedrals. Today they go to the Serpentine” Surely this is the very definition of inverted snobbery, where one dislikes something for its cultural associations, as opposed to its inherent qualities and characteristics. In turn, on the flip side, the creative industries need to do more to encourage diversity and to make it easier for those from working-class families to access an art education and to pursue a career in the arts. Whether dealing with “snobbery” or “inverted snobbery”, and whether the perpetrator is left wing/right wing, liberal/conservative, populist/elitist — such outmoded views, based purely on stereotypes and prejudices make life incredibly difficult for those trying to break through the art world’s glass ceiling.
“Untitled (DSS216)”, by minimalist artist Donald Judd, shown at the Mnuchin Gallery, New York
Of course for those that work in the creative sector — whether they be interior designers, architects, artists or curators — inevitably, as one learns more about the field, ones tastes become more refined, and in the case of art, certain areas that might once have seemed inaccessible or opaque suddenly start to make sense, and to become ever more appealing as long held areas of interest might start to lose their charm. Yet, presumably, according to Jones’ definition, anyone who comes to enjoy less obvious artists can be deemed a snob (whatever their background). “I like people wearing what they want to wear,” Dior Men’s artistic director Kim Jones explained in a recent interview, “I mean I am a snob but only in certain ways. I like people just being themselves more than anything else. I have such a diverse group of friends from all backgrounds and walks of life — from school teachers to David Beckham — and everyone is different.” One can surmise what Jones means by “in certain ways” is in relation to the material, for e.g. clothing, jewellery, accessories etc but not with regards people (whether or not David Beckham can be held up as the pinnacle of enlightened man is another matter entirely); and this is clearly an important distinction to make.
Having refined taste is something learnt and developed over time and is independent of background, sexuality, culture or socio-economic status. In that context, as society, hopefully, becomes ever more accepting, diverse and willing to support those, from any background, with ambitions to work in any given field, “snobbery” in the sense of having a particular aesthetic viewpoint, will no longer be associated with the “aristocracy” or the “elite”, but with learning, discernment and the ability to convey expertise, knowledge and god given talent in a way that will benefit the worlds of art and design. Despite Jones’ self-confessed snobbery, the key here is that to have refined taste is not snobbery per se, but is labelled as such by those who simply don’t understand, or rather appreciate, what makes X, Y or Z special and merely assume it to be a case of the “Emperor’s new clothes” — which, with increasing social mobility, tends to be lumped in with ideas of “class betrayal” and “forgetting your roots”, which, in reality, only serves to hold society back further. Clearly snobbery in its truest sense, i.e. to discriminate against, exclude or make anyone feel unimportant or insignificant based purely on social status is abhorrent and has no place in the modern world; but at the same time it’s important not to confuse “snobbery” and “discernment” and to inadvertently discriminate against those with a heightened aesthetic understanding.