Rabble?

Rabble (Pöbel), originally coined by Hegel and further developed by Nietzsche, describes those who reject and are alienated from civil life due to their economic situation—that is, being unable to “work.” Though the immediate example of rabble one can think of is the homeless in America—rejected from society and the economy, paralyzed from any action due to sheer resentment—there also exist numerous examples of rich rabble: those wealthy, decadent Victorian elites, indulging in sheer pleasure on the basis of the oppression of others. It is this latter group—the rich rabble—that we wish to focus on.

Who are the rich rabble of our time? Do they even exist?

One would think that in the information age, anyone with a phone would be able to integrate into society—if not properly, then at least tangentially. We have witnessed a transformation of the capitalist—from aimless greed-pigs to economic-social paragons (exemplified by Microsoft valuing multiculturalism and Dell’s attempts to promote world peace by distributing their factories across rival countries). This suggests a stigma against the rich rejecting civic life for profit. We have also seen a new trend of elite secularism—the Victorian man of leisure is no longer the dominant role (exemplified by millionaires spending their leisure time on diets and exercise)—implying that the decadence of the super-rich and elites of the past has faded. It seems the term “rich rabble” no longer describes a real population—every rich person now is either a necessary evil or a moral exemplar. There are no more “rich rabble.”

Yet, this thesis, though making some sense back in the early 2010s, would crumble immediately if one took a quick gaze around in 2025 and saw the tomshittery of tech billionaires like Elon Musk, or the cultural antics of figures such as Kanye West and Sean “Diddy” Combs. Here, I won’t take Kanye West and Diddy as real examples of rabble, for their existence—though indicative of some structural faults within the U.S. entertainment industry—is not generalizable to a larger population. Instead, the new neo-Nazi tech billionaires—Elon Musk and his gang of misfits—call for actual analysis, for they have the power to alter society.

Elon has been dissected like a frog in a high school science class, but not his “shadow” and close associate, J.D. Vance’s intellectual ally, Curtis Yarvin—the founder of the Dark Enlightenment movement. His thought can be summarized as a madman’s ramblings: he wants to abolish democratic government (which he believes is failing) and instead install CEO-kings as state governors (a monarchy with the structure of a corporation). He also believes there exists a cultural elite manipulating the masses, inventing the “evils” of political correctness as a means to “persecute” fascists and racists—this elite, he dubs “the Cathedral.” He draws heavy inspiration from the Prussian monarch Frederick the Great and has even defended Hitler’s aggressions as acts of “defense,” linking them with Frederick’s concept of “defensive wars.”

And yet, he is as contradictory as he is extreme: he advocates for radical libertarianism (in the form of anarcho-capitalism) while simultaneously championing monarchy and rigid hierarchy. He supports liberal doctrines like same-sex marriage, freedom of religion, and private drug use, yet, according to Joshua Tait, he has also “self-consciously proposed private welfare and prison reforms that resembled slavery.” He is a libertarian and an authoritarian in one package.

I am not here just to shit on him. What particularly interests me is his inherent contradiction. His contradictions invite an analysis of the tensions within his philosophy. First, we notice a tension between authority and liberation, reflecting a tear within his psyche—on one side, he demands authority to fulfill his own fantasies, while on the other, he views society as his enemy. For this reason, he advocates for monarchism and feudalistic obligations—a perverted power fantasy realized. At the same time, he claims to attack “mainstream” society, alleging that it oppresses smaller voices, even fabricating a cabal of “elites” suppressing free speech.

Is this not the perfect alignment with the definition of a rich rabble? A perverted power fantasy—the decadent need to satisfy one’s desires. A paradoxical liberal vision—aimless anger at society. Yet, Yarvin is not rejected from reality at all—he is integrated into it, with millions of followers via the internet, connections with current White House officials, and friendships within the tech industry. Furthermore, aspects of Yarvin’s thought are shared by many other tech billionaires—Elon Musk, Peter Thiel, etc.

Now we face a deeper issue in defining rabble: on the one hand, Yarvin and the like exhibit the psychological elements of the rabble, yet on the other, they lack the economic/social elements. Are they truly rabble?

I think this question points not only toward a re-analysis of the concept of rabble but also toward a fault within our current worldview—things are becoming increasingly “virtualized,” removed from their economic base, and thrown onto a new plane of existence. Perhaps this is just one of many signs pointing toward the “next stage” beyond global capitalism.