The New Elites and the New Peasant Class: Why Freedom Comes Down to Options

I've been seeing a trend in society. We're divided. Definitely in the obvious ways that we're forced to see by our algorithms like racially, religiously, and based on gender/sex. But it goes deeper. We're also being divided based on class. Over the past 10 years, we've been seeing the sprinkles of this divide. But I'd argue that over the past 2 years, the sprinkles have turned into a downpour. I sense a flood is coming soon.

We're Becoming a Two-Class Society

I think we're moving toward a society with essentially two classes: the New Elites and the New Peasant Class. I'm deliberately being a little provocative with those labels. I'm not claiming that every wealthy person is royalty or that everyone earning an ordinary salary is literally a medieval serf. I'm saying that the distance between the people who can make meaningful decisions about their lives and the people who cannot is becoming so large that our familiar upper-, middle-, and lower-class labels don't tell the whole story. The difference I care about is freedom in practice–optionality being a word I've begun to cling to, lately.

Who can say no?

Who can take a risk?

Who can recover when something goes wrong?

Who has options?

We like to think that because we live in a modern democracy, we're all free in roughly the same way. Legally, many of us share the same rights. But if one person can quit a job, move, buy a home, fight a legal case, or spend a year developing a business idea, while another person can't afford to miss a paycheck, those two people don't experience freedom in the same way. That's the premise of this entire argument. The New Elites have room to maneuver. The New Peasant Class is constantly forced to react.

What Old Royalty Had That Peasants Didn't

Think about the relationship between royalty, aristocrats, and peasants in older European societies. These weren't identical groups everywhere, and not all peasants were serfs. Still, a central feature of many of those systems was that control over land and resources gave certain people tremendous leverage. An aristocrat might have land, tenants, family connections and political influence. A peasant might spend most of their life producing what was necessary to survive, while remaining dependent on arrangements they had limited power to change.

The important distinction wasn't just that the aristocrat ate better food or wore better clothes. It was that they had options. They could draw on resources, rely on relationships, and often influence the rules that shaped other people's lives. A peasant's ability to refuse an obligation or change circumstances could be severely constrained. That's the parallel I'm drawing. We no longer have that same hereditary legal structure (although some statistics and overt nepotism in corporations and politics might suggest otherwise), and that difference matters. But resource ownership still changes how much independence a person actually has.

The Word That Explains It: Optionality

Optionality is the word I keep coming back to. Basically, it means having choices that you can realistically act on. It's not enough to tell someone they can do something. They have to be in a position to do it.

If you have a savings cushion, you can leave a job that treats you poorly. If you have assets, you can invest. If you have connections, you can get introduced to people and opportunities you might never otherwise encounter. If you have time, you can learn new skills or try something that might not pay off immediately.

Compare that with somebody who's barely getting by. They might know exactly what they need to do to improve their situation. But knowing the right move and being able to make it are two different things. You can tell somebody to move somewhere cheaper, start a business, or go back to school. Fine. Who's paying the moving costs? Who covers rent while they retrain? Who watches the kids? Who absorbs the loss if the business fails? The person who can answer those questions has options. The person who can't is stuck choosing among different kinds of risk.

Why I Don't Think Six Figures Automatically Means Middle Class

People often say that a six-figure income is just middle class now. I don't think that statement is useful without context. Of course, $100,000 goes further in some places than others, and supporting a family is different from supporting yourself. A person earning six figures with massive debts may have less flexibility than somebody with a lower salary and substantial savings. I'm not denying any of that.

But relative to somebody earning $30,000 or $40,000, a six-figure earner often has an entirely different set of possibilities. They may be able to put money aside, make a meaningful down payment, relocate, or take a temporary pay cut. I'm not saying that person has the political power of a billionaire. I'm saying that, compared with somebody who has no financial margin, they may live in a different world of practical choices. That's why I don't want this argument reduced to a rigid income cutoff. The real question is what your income and assets allow you to do after you've paid to survive.

Working More Doesn't Necessarily Get You Out

Imagine someone earning $30,000 a year. They take a second job, maybe start a side hustle, and eventually push their income toward $50,000. People might call that progress, and financially it is. But what did it cost? Maybe they're working nearly every waking hour. Maybe they have no time for relationships, exercise, learning, or simply thinking about what comes next.

And depending on where they live, that extra money might barely cover housing, transportation and groceries.

This is what I mean when I say survival can become a trap. You need money to create options, but earning enough money to survive takes up the time you would need to create those options. And when somebody says, 'Just move somewhere cheaper,' I think we have to be realistic. Jobs, salaries, transportation, and support networks change when you move.

Lower rent isn't automatically a better life if the opportunities disappear too. The New Peasant Class isn't necessarily defined by laziness or a refusal to sacrifice. Sometimes they're already sacrificing almost everything.

Why Negotiating With Your Employer Isn't So Simple

Technically, any employee can ask for better pay or look for another job. That's true. But how strong is your negotiating position if you believe replacing your income could take six months, a year, or longer? If your rent depends on the next paycheck, threatening to walk away isn't much of a threat. You may have the legal right to quit, but the practical consequences of quitting can be enormous. Therefore, from a practical standpoint, you lack options.

And the employer isn't always a villain in this story. A small business struggling to stay profitable might genuinely be unable to offer the raise an employee deserves. That doesn't make the worker's situation any easier. It means both sides can be constrained, while the person with the smallest savings account usually has the least room for error. When people talk about freedom in the labor market, I think they need to include bargaining power. A choice made under extreme financial pressure isn't the same as a choice made from a position of security.

College Can Be a Ladder—and a Gamble

One of the clearest examples is college. We're told that education is the way to move up. And sometimes it absolutely is. Plenty of degrees and training programs produce valuable skills and better earnings. But the risk is not distributed equally. Imagine two students getting the same degree. One comes from a family with money, professional contacts and a place to live while searching for work. The other has student loans, no connections and bills that start arriving immediately.

Even if both graduates have similar ability, their options are different. One can afford to hold out for a good opportunity or take an internship that opens doors. The other may need to take the first available job, regardless of whether it uses the degree. I'm not arguing that most college students fail or that general degrees are worthless; those claims need evidence and vary by program. I'm saying that the same educational decision can be a manageable investment for one family and a life-altering gamble for another. That's a huge difference in freedom.

The Car Loan Example: When Having Less Costs More

I saw an example involving a car salesman offering terrible financing terms to customers who didn't fully understand what they were agreeing to. That stuck with me because a car isn't always some luxury purchase. In a lot of American communities, it's how you get to work. Many cities are intentionally designed so walking is impossible, public transportation is inconvenient and risky, and having a car is the only real means of ensuring your get to your job and back home in a timely manner. So imagine someone who needs transportation, has little savings, and is offered a long loan with a very high payment. They may accept because they feel they have no alternative.

Now imagine that payment becomes impossible after a job loss or unexpected expense. They could lose the car, damage their credit, and have an even harder time getting to work. I'm not claiming every dealership intentionally sets people up for repossession; lenders can lose money when loans default.

But predatory deals do exist, and people with limited financial knowledge or bargaining power can be vulnerable to them. A wealthy person can often walk away from a bad offer or absorb the cost of a mistake. Someone already stretched thin might have their entire life disrupted by it. Again, the difference is optionality.

Not Every Advantage Requires a Conspiracy

Here's where I think the conversation gets misunderstood. I'm not imagining a secret room full of millionaires and billionaires deciding how to keep everybody else poor. Some exploitative practices are intentional. Others are simply the result of how advantages build on themselves. If you already own assets, you can benefit when they appreciate. If you have savings, you can invest during a downturn. If you have a strong network, opportunities can reach you before they're advertised.

If you have none of those things, you're not automatically doomed. People do move up. But the climb can be harder because you have less to fall back on. Money tends to create more opportunities to make money, while financial instability can create more costs. We should be careful about treating that as an iron law; policies, competition, and economic conditions matter. Still, I think the pattern helps explain why people can work equally hard and end up with dramatically different levels of control over their lives.

Voting Rights Don't Mean Equal Political Influence

The political side of this is just as interesting. Everyone likes to point out that citizens can vote. And voting matters. I'm not saying elections are meaningless or that an ordinary person's vote never changes anything. But let's distinguish casting a ballot from influencing the broader political process. Wealthy individuals and organizations may have the resources to hire lobbyists, support campaigns, fund advocacy, and maintain access to decision-makers.

Most people don't have that kind of access. They're working, paying bills and trying to get through the week. They may technically have the right to organize, run for office, or advocate for a policy, but exercising those rights takes time and resources. This is the same distinction between formal freedom and practical freedom. Equal rights don't automatically translate into equal influence. It's worth asking how much a person's economic position affects their ability to be heard between elections.

The Justice System Makes the Divide Hard to Ignore

Think about two people accused of similar crimes. One has enough money to hire attorneys, investigators and expert witnesses, and can afford the time required to fight the case. The other is worried about missing work, making bail where applicable, and keeping a roof over their head. Both are entitled to due process. But their ability to navigate the process may be very different.

I want to be fair here: public defenders can be excellent attorneys, and wealthy defendants don't automatically escape accountability. The evidence, law and facts of a case matter enormously. Still, an overloaded defense system, court costs and lost wages can hit somebody with limited resources much harder. Even an accusation that doesn't end in conviction can disrupt employment or housing. One person can absorb a setback. Another might spend years trying to recover. That sounds a lot like the broader class distinction I've been describing.

The Real Luxury Is Being Able to Make a Mistake

We usually talk about wealth in terms of cars, houses, vacations, and expensive things. But I think the biggest luxury is being able to make a mistake without destroying your future. Suppose two people face an unexpected $5,000 expense. For somebody with a substantial emergency fund, it's annoying. For somebody with almost nothing saved, it can mean debt, missed rent, or losing transportation.

The same applies to career decisions. A person with savings can try a business and fail. They can take a pay cut to enter a promising field. They can walk away from a bad relationship or living situation. Somebody without that cushion may have to stay put even when staying is damaging. That doesn't mean money solves every problem. It means money can prevent one problem from becoming five more. In my view, that ability to recover is one of the clearest dividing lines between the New Elites and the New Peasant Class.

Are We Actually Going Back to Feudalism?

No, not literally. And I think that distinction makes the argument stronger, not weaker. Medieval aristocrats often possessed hereditary privileges that modern wealthy people do not. Modern citizens have protections, mobility, and democratic rights that many historical peasants lacked. A person earning $100,000 isn't a king, and a person earning $35,000 isn't legally owned by anyone.

What I'm comparing is the relative difference in freedom. The old aristocracy generally had access to resources and influence that ordinary peasants couldn't match. Today, the gap between people with financial cushions and people without them can create a similar contrast in how freely they can act. It's a metaphor for dependence and power, not a claim that history has repeated itself exactly. And I'm not arguing that the middle class has literally vanished. I'm arguing that our usual labels can hide a more important split between people who have options and people who don't.

What I Think This Means for the Future

If more people spend nearly everything they earn just to live, it's harder for them to save, buy assets, or build independence. If homeownership increasingly depends on family help, if educational risks fall hardest on people with the least money, and if one emergency can derail a household, then the divide in practical freedom can widen even while everyone retains the same legal rights.

None of this is inevitable. Better housing access, stronger earnings, fairer lending, education pathways, and other institutional changes can improve people's options. I also believe individual choices matter. But individual responsibility and structural constraints aren't mutually exclusive. We can encourage people to make better decisions while acknowledging that the consequences of those decisions are not equally distributed. That's the conversation I think we're missing when we reduce everything to how much someone earns.

Conclusion: Freedom Is About Having Options

So when I say we're entering an era of the New Elites and the New Peasant Class, here's what I mean. One group has enough money, assets, time, or connections to make meaningful choices and recover from mistakes. The other may possess many of the same legal rights but lacks the financial margin to exercise those rights without serious risk. The historical parallel isn't about crowns and castles. It's about the difference between controlling resources and depending on them.

We didn't become serfs again by law. But some people experience a kind of economic dependence that makes their freedom feel conditional. The most important question isn't just, 'Are you legally allowed to do something?' It's, 'Can you realistically afford to do it?' To me, that's the real dividing line. The greatest benefit of wealth isn't showing it off. It's having options. And the most troubling form of poverty isn't simply going without luxuries. It's having so little room for error that survival makes your decisions for you.