America Ain’t Got No Class

I didn’t know we had a class system in this country. But according to popular pundit descriptions, it seems we do. If so, I guess you would say that I grew up in the so-called “lower class.” What am I getting at? Well, during the recent political season, I kept hearing much about “the middle class” or “working class.”

“I grew up firmly in the middle class,” or “The middle class came out to vote,” “He won the middle-class vote,” and “You must attract the working class to win.”

Pardon my lack of enthusiasm for the phrase, but my response, in a word, is: “Yuk. Just yuk.”

I am sick of the phrase. I don’t ascribe malevolent motives to anyone using it — I’m sure I have probably mimicked the voices and used it myself to my shame — but I would like to humbly suggest that the phrase is, well, in a word, anti-American. I don’t mean treasonous or anything like that. I’m just saying that class systems are not the best, authentically American way of identifying groups in our Republic.

These terms — “middle class,” “working class” — feel misplaced in the land of the free, where we’re supposed to be united by the shared title of “citizen.” America’s founders envisioned something different from the class systems of Europe. They weren’t aiming to replicate Old World divisions but to create a republic founded on freedom and personal dignity, not social rank.

As a boy, an old World War One Veteran from our country church once reminded me as he heard a kid ribbing me about my social status (no parents, no car, no money, living on USDA handouts and what we could raise): “Son, we may be poor. But don’t let anyone say, ‘You ain’t got no class.’”

His poor grammar notwithstanding, we could borrow that little phrase and turn it around to describe the social order in the United States of America. “We ain’t got no class” in this country. We are a nation of “second sons,” those who once would have inherited nothing under the laws of primogeniture in England yet came here to forge their destiny. George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and James Madison each held a firm disdain for the idea of an “upper” or “lower” class — a social structure they rejected in favor of a republic of citizens.

What is Class?

So, what, then, is “class”? To understand the issue thoroughly, we must trace its origins. Used to describe the social strata of ancient Greece and Rome, “Class,” as people came to use it in the modern world, is a term deeply rooted in the socio-political theories of thinkers like Karl Marx and Max Weber. Marx believed that “class” was the lens through which societies could be understood and transformed. He argued that the very structure of society was determined by a perpetual conflict between classes: the “bourgeoisie,” or capitalist class, and the “proletariat,” or working class. As Marx wrote in The Communist Manifesto, “The history of all hitherto existing society is the history of class struggles.”

Weber expanded on Marx’s ideas, introducing a model that considered social and political dimensions beyond mere economic standing. He described class according to “life chances” — a grim view of the limitations imposed by birth and inheritance, as starkly visible in the separation of classes on the Titanic. The Irish laborers on the lower deck had fewer “life chances” than the aristocrats on the upper deck. Thus, in Weber’s view, class distinctions meant barriers to one’s path in life.

Sociologists like Dennis Gilbert have continued this tradition, describing social stratification as “social ranking based on characteristics such as income, wealth, occupation, or prestige.” In short, class is an old-world concept, and the founders of this nation viewed it as incompatible with the American experiment. They were not trying to engineer social equality but instead offering a blueprint for individual potential. It is a profoundly Christian concept, in fact, one that echoes the words of St. Paul, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free…. for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3:28 ESV).

A New Vision of Social Order

Christianity’s influence on Western civilization turned the old social order upside down, valuing each individual as an image-bearer of God. Tom Holland, in his bestselling work Dominion, asserted that even bad ideas are just so because whether we believe or not, we evaluate ideas from the still-prevailing worldview of the Bible and Christianity.

The Pilgrims and, later, the Founding Fathers built upon these values in America. By the time of the Revolution, America had emerged as a land of opportunity for those willing to work, worship, and govern themselves. Rather than an aristocracy, we became a nation of citizens, free from the constraints of inherited rank. Here, the goal was not to entrench hierarchy but to foster a “commonwealth,” a shared culture of virtue and responsibility.

The Founders had a clear and firm philosophy regarding social order. Hereditary aristocracy was a no-go. Yet, both Adams and Jefferson admitted that meritocracy would create a “natural aristocracy.” They disagreed on responding to the “talented tenth,” as W. E. B. DuBois would later call it (1903).

Jefferson wanted to cultivate the talented tenth. Adams saw it as “a subtle venom” (from Lester J. Cappon, The Adams-Jefferson Letters, 2012, 343). Adams wished to check the fallen nature of ambitious men to avoid “political corruption.” In the end, we benefited from their debate. As Philip Costopoulos wrote, “For both Adams and Jefferson, the problem of the natural aristocracy is the human problem in heightened form. The best men share in the ‘moral capability and the moral corruptibility’ of man as man.”

The Founders’ solution to this tension was to embrace a vision of virtue as the bedrock of a self-governing society, believing that personal character and responsibility would act as safeguards against the excesses of ambition.

Meritocracy, though essential for recognizing and rewarding talent, could only be compatible with the republican ideals they cherished if those rising to influence upheld a commitment to the greater good. This conviction — that natural distinctions in ability need not create social divides — shaped a society where achievement was to be measured by character, faith, and diligence rather than birthright.

As George Washington wrote, the security of a free constitution depends upon “teaching the people themselves to know and to value their rights.” The Founders’ vision was not a society built on privilege or titles but a self-governing republic, where one’s worth is not predetermined by birth but expressed through character, faith, and hard work. America’s social order, then, rests on four pillars:

• Faith in God: This essential value grants each person a purpose beyond material success. The Judeo-Christian theology of God and Man establishes a worldview of purpose and meaning beyond ourselves. John Winthrop’s “City on a Hill” is Reagan’s vision. Trump’s recent, inspiring talk of an “American Golden Age” also recognizes the Constitutional covenant and priority of Biblical faith established in Plymouth, Jamestown, and Philadelphia.
• Personal Virtue: Cultivating virtues like honesty, gratitude, and charity serves the community and reflects our highest calling. The Founders were virtue seekers. They sought to bind all Americans to a concern for cultivating Biblical and natural law virtues that combined glory to God and good to others.
• Hard Work: We honor ourselves, our families, and our communities when we dedicate ourselves to our work, whatever it may be. In this sense, all Americans are “working class.”
• Liberty: Our freedoms come from God, not from government. Thus, Americans have historically understood that liberty requires vigilant protection.

Where We Stand Today

These foundational values must be reconsidered in today’s society. Politicians and media figures frame their appeals to “middle-class voters” or the “working class,” sidelining the more significant identity that binds us all: American citizens. Yes, people vary in income, occupation, and geography, but these distinctions should not resurrect the old ” class divisions.” When I use the term “middle class” solely to mean “middle income,” I unintentionally contribute to a sense of division. I repent of this.

If we must discuss America’s “social order,” let us remember that our strength lies in our unity as citizens. We live in a country where, in theory, anyone can change their station in life through self-discipline and hard work: vision, education, determination, and grit.

We are blessed with the singular title of American, earned not by aristocracy or economic status but by a shared commitment to the ideals that first called our forebears across the sea. Our Constitution is spotted with the sea spray of Pilgrim forebearers in the North Atlantic, seared by the fires from the defense of liberty and stained to a glorious hue by the blood of patriots who defended its truths. This is a new class of Men. This is the American class. And every founder descendant or legal immigrant family assumes the nobility of that title.

So, the next time you hear a pundit pontificate on the “middle class” or a candidate claim to champion the “working class,” remember this: we are Americans, bound by something more profound than income brackets or social standing. As we used to say, we “ain’t got no class” in the traditional sense — but we do have dignity and the solemn title of citizen. In a world obsessed with labels and hierarchies, it’s a privilege and a blessing to be known simply as an American.

READ MORE from Michael A. Milton:

Being Herd: Understanding How the Left Views Society

Biden Makes Inappropriate Comment in D-Day Speech

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