If you haven’t lost a lot of money, haven’t attended a prestigious school, and haven’t been triggered by the word “privilege” online, this article might not be suitable for you. But if you’ve ever doubted: “Did I start life as a loser?” then I hope you can find some comfort here.
(Background: The Taiwanese government holds (confiscated) 210 Bitcoin! Over 2,000 ETH, nearly 300 BNB… total value over NT$1.3 billion)
(Additional context: In 1946, Time magazine commented: “If Taiwan’s referendum determines who will govern—first the United States, second Japan”)

Table of Contents

• When effort becomes a joke
• Redefining, what is privilege?
• Redefining “unfairness”
• Arbitrage in inequality
• Hating the rich, or hating yourself?

When effort becomes a joke

The trending topic on Threads for days seems to debate whether attending Jianzhong (a prestigious high school) counts as privilege, but what truly ignited it was Taiwan’s long-standing class anxiety.

A NTU student said: “Jianzhong students have enjoyed more resources since childhood but are unaware of it.” They cited cases like Hsinchu Experimental High School and star school districts, trying to prove that what you think of as effort is actually a byproduct of “background.”

Opponents shouted: “I studied hard myself, why am I called privileged?”

The horror of this debate isn’t about who is right or wrong, but that it causes “effort” itself to lose its meaning.

They brought out old data: according to Taiwan’s Ministry of Education, 73% of students entering NTU come from the six major cities, while students from rural areas account for less than 5%. This figure is like a cross-section of a cake, revealing Taiwan’s class divide. But the real danger isn’t the number itself, but the terrifying realization that from the moment you’re born, your life’s ceiling is already set.

When “Jianzhong students” become a synonym for “privilege,” and “effort” is explained as a manifestation of family resources, we see a collective moral judgment. The judge is those who believe in class determinism; the defendants are all who try to change their fate through effort.

When we start defining others’ success by privilege, we are also defining our own failure as incompetence.

Redefining, what is privilege?

What exactly is privilege? In Taiwan’s debates, this word has become a universal emotional label, slapped onto anything “I don’t have but you do.”

Attending Jianzhong is privilege, having wealthy parents is privilege, being good-looking is privilege. This generalized “privilege theory” is an abuse of the definition.

The Latin root of privilege, “Privilege,” comes from Latin privilegium, a compound word combining privus (private, individual) and lex (law). In Roman law, privilegium literally meant “a law applying to a specific individual,” that is, using one’s own exclusive law. This concept conflicts with modern legal systems emphasizing universality, where everyone is equal before the law. Privilege and equality before the law are opposites.

Let’s go back to France in 1789, before the revolution. The privileges enjoyed by the aristocracy were written into law: tax exemption, sword rights, hunting rights, judicial privileges judged by fellow nobles. These weren’t “structural advantages,” but legal rights granted directly by the state.

Then came the revolution. On August 4, 1789, the National Assembly abolished these feudal privileges overnight. The common people aimed to eliminate a tangible, recognizable, legally protected hierarchy.

But today, when Taiwanese say “Jianzhong students are privileged,” what do they mean? Is it that the law grants Jianzhong students tax exemption? Is it that only Jianzhong students can become civil servants? No, what people refer to is a vague, psychological, immeasurable sense of “advantage.”

This marks a major shift in the word “privilege” in contemporary discourse—from a legal term to an “emotional weapon.” As GDP rises and engineers seem to gain the halo of the middle class, Taiwanese class anxiety deepens.

Economist Thomas Sowell posed a sharp question: if we attribute all success to “privilege” and all failure to “oppression,” are we not stripping people of their “moral agency”? You are no longer the protagonist of your life; you are just a victim of structures. No one has the moral obligation or need to realize their potential; everyone is fixed in their social position.

Looking at Taiwan’s social mobility (the ratio of income increase compared to parents) from 1980’s 42% to 2020’s 28%. Class solidification is real.

But solidification doesn’t mean frozen. Even in the most unequal societies, some can turn their lives around. The key lies in “cultural capital” (effort, delayed gratification, risk-taking), accumulated not just through material resources but also possibly aided by luck.

Overseas Chinese in Southeast Asia, Jewish immigrants in the US—these groups, despite severe discrimination, have achieved upward mobility within a generation. They rely not on “privilege,” but on the inheritance of cultural habits.

Privilege is a long-evolving concept, but some Taiwanese treat it as a one-time moral judgment.

( Redefining, what is unfairness?

Returning to the anger of some Taiwanese, how should we view Jianzhong students, NTU students, or anyone “winning at the starting line”? Perhaps the best answer is to stop thinking in terms of privilege and start thinking in terms of “advantage vs. privilege.” Many of these questions have been considered by predecessors; Austrian economist Friedrich Hayek proposed a key distinction:

• Privilege: rights conferred by the state or system to certain people, which others cannot access under equal conditions. (e.g., taxi license quotas, civil servant jobs, religious tax exemptions)
• Advantage: differences that naturally arise in fair competition. (e.g., inheritance from wealthy parents, innate intelligence, educational resources and environment provided by parents)

Hayek argued that advantage is a natural product of a free society, while privilege is a product of coercion by authority. If we try to eliminate all advantages (e.g., banning tutoring for children, banning wealthy investments), we are actually creating new privileges—power to the state to decide who can have what.

Admit it, top students do have advantages. Their parents might be wealthier, value education more, and know how to navigate the system, helping their children get into Ivy League schools, then recommending them to internships at Fortune 500 companies. I won’t go into the script that follows; everyone is familiar with it. It’s a fact, no need to avoid it.

But if we deprive parents of the freedom to invest in their children or punish those who “win at the starting line,” we create a society that rewards mediocrity and punishes effort—a more terrifying society.

The real enemy isn’t “wealthy second-generation,” but those who try to make you believe “background determines everything.” The purpose of such narratives isn’t to help you turn things around but to make you give up struggling.

When you start believing “I lost at the starting line,” you’ve truly lost—not to others, but to the mindset of giving up. Giving up means even if a cake falls from the sky, you won’t pick it up and put it in your mouth.

) In arbitrage within inequality

After discussing boring philosophy, let’s get practical. If you’re not a Jianzhong or NTU student, and don’t have wealthy parents, what should you do? Only one sad answer remains: find arbitrage opportunities within inequality.

The essence of market economy is “asymmetry of information” and “capability differences” creating arbitrage opportunities. If everyone were the same, there would be no trades. It’s precisely because some are smart, some are foolish, some are diligent, some lazy, some make mistakes, some have sudden inspiration, that markets operate.

Three simple but difficult suggestions:

Skill arbitrage: find high-value but low-competition skills. For example, remote education, emotional output, plumbing, fine crops… As for programming, AI prompt engineering, cross-border e-commerce, these are just auxiliary skills to upgrade your core skills—they’re no longer attractive. Entry barriers in these fields are not academic credentials but willingness and interest to learn.

Time arbitrage: the wealthy buy time with money; the poor exchange time for money. But if you “invest in yourself” with your time (rather than just exchanging for money), you’re engaging in “time arbitrage.” After five years, you’ll be a different person. Time arbitrage still applies to financial investments.

Finally, risk arbitrage: the wealthy seek stability; the poor seek speed. The only advantage the poor have is the freedom to take high risks. You don’t own mansions to guard, nor family businesses to pass down, so why not dare to lose? Anyway, you don’t have much to lose; when you’re close to the bottom, falling won’t kill you or seriously injure you—only stir up some dust. This isn’t about breaking the law, but about early market entry—like in 2018 in crypto.

Interesting extended reading: The gambling mindset sweeping the world: the root of becoming a loser unconsciously

You might say this kind of argument is just glorifying class oppression. Wrong. I’m not praising inequality; I’m telling you an old-fashioned truth: complaining won’t make you rich; action will.

You might also say, “Getting rich through effort is just survivor bias.” That’s true; it has survivor bias. But do you prefer to be part of the failed consensus or the survivor bias? The only privilege the poor have is the freedom to lose. But most people don’t even dare to use this privilege, which makes them especially anxious.

Hating the rich, or hating yourself?

Returning to the Taiwanese privilege anxiety—are they jealous of the wealthy? No, their privilege anxiety is rooted in hatred of their own incompetence. When we can’t change our circumstances, we instinctively look for external attributions: “It’s not that I didn’t try hard enough; it’s that they have privilege.”

This psychological defense mechanism is called self-serving bias; it protects your self-esteem but also robs you of motivation to change. Philosopher Nietzsche called this mentality “slave morality,” where, if you can’t be strong, you redefine what is “good.” Some say “being rich is evil,” or “Jianzhong students are privileged,” so people don’t have to take responsibility for their failures.

I’m not saying poor people deserve to be poor, nor that social mobility is easy.

The truth is, society always has unfairness. From a right-wing political perspective, aristocrats have privileges because they also have duties to maintain social stability and protect the people.

Whether today’s elites “obey their duties” is beyond our control; all we can do is reduce anxiety and do more. At least, doing more means less time spent worrying.

![])https://img-cdn.gateio.im/social/moments-eac2dee732-cb22c8da60-153d09-6d5686###

)##