Weighing Merit in a Tilted World

A lie repeated enough becomes indistinguishable from truth. And few lies have been repeated as often—or as convincingly—as meritocracy.

They told us the world is fair. That success is a direct byproduct of effort and talent. Work hard, they said, and the gates of prosperity will open wide. Yet here you stand, keys in hand, locked out.

Meritocracy is a beautiful story, woven with the precision of a master illusionist. It appeals to the part of us that wants to believe in order, in fairness, in the reliability of cause and effect. After all, the alternative is chaos—a world where wealth is taken, not earned; where luck, connections, and manipulation determine outcomes far more often than ability. But belief doesn’t alter reality. It merely distorts our perception of it.

Consider the elite institutions that act as gatekeepers to opportunity. They cloak themselves in the language of merit—admissions based on test scores, resumes built on achievements. Yet the system is rigged long before you ever submit your application, because the starting line isn’t just uneven; for many, it’s out of sight.

Then there’s the corporate ladder, an enduring symbol of meritocratic ambition. You’re told to climb, rung by rung, with grit and determination. Yet look closely at who occupies the upper echelons. Are they the most capable? Promotions often hinge not on performance but on visibility, politics, and the ability to play a game few are taught to win.

Meritocracy also has a sinister psychological toll. By tying success to worth, it suggests failure is a personal flaw. If you’re struggling, it must be because you didn’t try hard enough, weren’t smart enough, weren’t deserving enough. This narrative erodes self-worth while conveniently absolving the system of blame. After all, in a meritocracy, the system works by definition. If you fail, it must be you.

But what if the system is the problem? What if meritocracy is less about recognizing ability and more about perpetuating power? In a true meritocracy, there would be mobility—an open door for those who excel.

However, the cruelest trick of meritocracy is its ability to co-opt dissent. Those who question the system are often dismissed as lazy, jealous, or entitled. The house convinces you that the game is winnable while quietly stacking the deck. Meanwhile, the winners write books and give speeches about their hard-earned success, perpetuating the myth for the next generation.