No, privilege is not some kind of original sin. At most, as Paul Graham writes in this post, it may seem so in certain woke environments in Californian metropolises. In those contexts, being born with a certain gender, skin color, or sexual orientation can sometimes be perceived as a privilege in itself.
But it only takes a moment of reflection to understand that privilege is not the identity we are born with, but rather the consequences that this identity entails.
These consequences move in two directions: from the outside in and vice versa. It is not only society, with its institutions, conventions, and prejudices, that confirms and reinforces my privilege. I, too, often without realizing it, exploit and consolidate it through my opinions, actions, and habits. But most of all, through a perception of reality that is at least partly shaped by that privilege.
The key point here is that, in many cases, this is not a voluntary or conscious process. A privileged person is not only inclined to judge the world in a certain way but also to perceive it based on coordinates influenced by their privilege. On the basis of these perceptions, they build their judgments.
A man, for example, will be less skilled than a woman at perceiving the structural manifestations of sexism—both those of society and his own—because he has not grown up experiencing them. Fortunately for him, he has never— or only rarely—found himself in a position where he had to deeply and sincerely question the very existence of such sexism.
Let’s take another example: what is the first thing you look at when booking accommodation for a vacation, such as a B&B or a hotel? The answer to this question might be very different depending on your identity and, more importantly, the components of privilege or social advantage that this identity carries.
For a group of teenagers, the likelihood that the answer is “the price” is probably inversely proportional to their parents’ income or wealth. A person confined to a wheelchair, on the other hand, will first make sure that stairs are not necessary.
Or consider urban planning: it changes depending on the gender of those who experience the city. For every woman reading this, it will be obvious that the brightness of a street is a far more relevant factor than its length when choosing a route to walk home at night. A man, however, might still receive this concept with some surprise.
There can be discussions about how responsible one is for their privilege, what they should do about it, and whether they should do anything at all. But before anything else, it is crucial to define it correctly: privilege is not just the number and nature of opportunities that open up due to identity rather than merit, but also the freedom to ignore a problem. It is the ability not to see the blind spots in one’s own opinions and behaviors.
Every time I have pointed out to someone the intrinsic injustice of their actions—and this applies to me as well, as a classic privileged individual—the most common reaction has been denial. We entangle ourselves in rhetorical arguments just to avoid admitting that we acted from a position of advantage, perhaps committing an injustice out of habit or unawareness.
Yet, if we believe that a fairer society is also a better one—for everyone and from every perspective—we must learn to recognize and overcome this instinctive reflex of defense, denial, and rejection. Sometimes, it is as simple as apologizing and learning from the experience.
But I doubt we will move in this direction. Because in some contexts—some American campuses, some San Francisco magazines—the privileged are depicted as monsters, making it all too easy for those with privilege to feel attacked whenever something is pointed out to them, no matter what it is. Thus, we find ourselves facing the typical scene of victimization: in an acrobatic reversal of roles, the privileged presents themselves as the victim. Conspiracy, persecution, public shaming—these are easy words to throw around when an injustice is denounced or, at the very least, when a public stance is questioned. But even more often, the mechanism of victimization is activated on a private level, making any honest discussion impossible.
Yet, recognizing privilege does not mean accepting personal guilt, nor does it mean being condemned to eternal penance. Rather, it means developing awareness and a sense of responsibility regarding one’s place in the world and the dynamics that shape it. Understanding privilege allows us to act with greater empathy, to listen to experiences different from our own without feeling automatically accused, and to contribute—through small or significant actions—to a fairer society.
The real goal is not blame, but the creation of a common space where dialogue is possible and where recognizing privilege is not seen as a threat but as an opportunity to expand one’s vision of the world. Perhaps we will never be completely free from the conditioning that privilege imposes on our way of seeing reality, but we can at least strive not to be blind to its consequences.
Image from Google Imagen 3 – Gemini