The Most Dangerous Inequality Is The One We Refuse to Name

Let us strip away the polite illusions. The wealthy, the powerful, the credentialed guardians of the global order sit atop their institutions and empires and swear they earned it. They speak of discipline, perseverance, genius, vision. They write books, deliver keynote speeches, and preach to the public about effort and merit. They build entire identities on the belief that they deserve to stand above others.

But beneath all the polished narratives lies a truth they dare not confront. They were lucky.

Luck is the most corrosive form of inequality. It is also the most denied. Because once you acknowledge luck, the moral foundation of privilege begins to crumble. If chance, not virtue, played the defining role in shaping your life, then your wealth is not proof of your superiority. It is the byproduct of a cosmic accident that could easily have gone another way.

What gave the affluent stability to study without fear of eviction. What granted them parents who nurtured instead of harmed. What protected them from a drunk driver, a malignant cell, a violent neighborhood, a failing school. What provided access to mentors, safety nets, and networks. What allowed them to rise while others drowned.

Luck. Silent, arbitrary, merciless luck.

And here is the obscenity. Those who benefited most from luck now weaponise it against those who did not. They chastise the poor for their “choices.” They parade a few exceptional escapees as proof that “anyone can.” They punish misfortune twice, first by letting it happen, and again by treating it as moral failure. They call this justice, market efficiency, personal responsibility. In reality it is cruelty masquerading as order.

The privileged cling to the myth of merit because the alternative is intolerable. If luck is admitted as the central determinant of destiny, then redistribution becomes a duty, not an act of charity. Philanthropy becomes reputation laundering. Social mobility becomes a statistical anomaly. Power becomes the spoils of a rigged lottery. Meritocracy becomes a comforting fairy tale for those already on top.

And so society continues the theatre. The fortunate strut as moral exemplars. The unlucky are condemned as inadequate. The elite craft narratives that preserve their standing and soothe their conscience. The system stays intact because the story stays intact.

Yet luck remains patient. It is the one force that will eventually betray even those who worship it. Illness, economic collapse, political reversal, age, accident. No one escapes the randomness of existence forever. And when that moment comes, perhaps the privileged will finally taste the bitter truth the rest of the world lives with every day. There was never justice. Only chance.

A child born in Geneva inherits stability, nutrition, healthcare, and education. A child born in a Bangladeshi slum inherits uncertainty, hunger, and danger. The first child is celebrated as talented. The second is told to work harder. Neither chose their starting line.

A child born to loving, financially secure parents receives patience, guidance, and forgiveness. A child raised by abusive or absent parents receives trauma, instability, and scars. Yet society pretends the outcomes are the result of discipline.

Some are born healthy, with brains wired for focus and bodies built for endurance. Others are born into chronic pain, neurodivergence, hormonal disorders, or mental illness. Yet the world insists success is simply a matter of willpower.

Even beyond birth, luck keeps deciding. A chance encounter becomes a career break. A random accident becomes a lifelong disability. Being born in the right year, the right economy, the right geopolitical moment. Ninety percent of the machinery that shapes a life is invisible and uncontrollable, yet we dare call it merit.

And still the wealthy preach about grind and hustle. They sell books about morning routines. They give interviews about discipline. They speak as if destiny were a recipe, as if everyone had the same ingredients to start with. It is hypocrisy distilled to its purest form. Taking credit for what was handed and blaming the unlucky for not escaping their chains.

The greatest cruelty is not luck itself. The greatest cruelty is the arrogance of those who benefited from it, who mistake fortune for virtue and then turn their fortune into a weapon against the very people who never had a chance.

If the privileged wanted to live in truth, they would begin with a simple admission.
They are not only hardworking. They are lucky.
They are not only disciplined. They were spared.

And with that admission would come responsibility. Luck must not be hoarded. Luck must not be sanctified as achievement. Luck must not be used as justification for domination. The winners of the lottery should be the first to dismantle the system that crowns them.

Until that happens, the myth of merit will remain the most dangerous lie of our age. Luck will continue to generate inequality. And the world will keep pretending that the beneficiaries earned their fortune while the unlucky earned their fate.

But the truth is out there, quietly waiting for a society brave enough to confront it.
Not everyone started the race at the same line.
Not everyone had shoes.
Some were not even allowed onto the track.

And any system that worships outcomes without acknowledging starting points is not a meritocracy. It is a mythology built to preserve the comfort of the lucky.