We have a large underclass in Britain, and a fairly low standard

The words of Nigel Short resound with both lament and urgency: “We have a large underclass in Britain, and a fairly low standard of education. Our best universities are extremely good, but a very significant proportion of the British population that comes out of compulsory schooling with very low standards of education.” In this declaration lies the sharp contrast between brilliance and neglect, between excellence that dazzles and mediocrity that diminishes. He speaks of a system where the few ascend to the heights of world-class scholarship, while the many stumble out of compulsory education with little to carry them forward. It is a truth spoken not to flatter, but to awaken.

The heart of his message is the paradox: that a nation may boast elite universities that shine as beacons of intellect—Oxford, Cambridge, and others—yet beneath that glitter lies a vast undercurrent of failure. What is the worth of greatness at the top if the foundation crumbles at the bottom? To celebrate the peaks while ignoring the valleys is to mistake part for whole, and to risk building a society where opportunity belongs to the privileged few, while the rest remain trapped in the cycle of the underclass.

History offers us echoes of this condition. In the final days of the Roman Empire, the elite studied philosophy, rhetoric, and law in schools reserved for the wealthy, while the vast majority of citizens and slaves remained ignorant, unlettered, and bound to toil. The brilliance of the few could not sustain the weight of the many left behind, and the empire fell not because it lacked thinkers, but because it lacked a strong, educated people to carry its legacy. Nigel Short’s words remind us that the same imbalance threatens modern nations when education is split between privilege and neglect.

Consider also the tale of industrial Britain in the nineteenth century. While the nation produced inventors, engineers, and statesmen of genius, large portions of the working class lived in ignorance, deprived of schooling. Their labor fueled the empire, but their lack of education bound them to poverty and dependence. Only when reforms expanded literacy and compulsory education did the working class begin to rise, feeding both the prosperity of the nation and the dignity of the individual. Without such efforts, the brilliance of Britain’s great universities would have remained a hollow crown atop a suffering people.

The deeper meaning of Short’s words is that a nation cannot measure its educational health only by its best. To boast of excellence at the summit while ignoring decay at the base is to risk collapse. True strength lies not only in nurturing the few prodigies who reach the highest towers of learning, but in raising the standard of the many, ensuring that every citizen emerges from schooling with the tools to think, to work, and to live with dignity. To fail in this is to condemn millions to stagnation, while praising the rare jewels of the system as though they redeem its flaws.

The lesson for us is stern: a society is only as strong as its weakest schools. To build an educated underclass is to plant seeds of division, resentment, and wasted potential. Instead, let us lift the standards of education for all, not merely for the fortunate who ascend to the universities of renown. Parents must demand better, leaders must reform courageously, and communities must value learning not as a privilege, but as a right. For the future of a nation rests not only in the hands of its scholars, but also in the minds of its common people.

Therefore, O listener, carry this wisdom into your heart: do not be deceived by the brilliance of the few while the many stumble. Honor the great universities, but do not allow their excellence to mask the failures of a broken system. For the true measure of education is not in the glory of the elite, but in the dignity of the masses. Raise the standard for all, and a nation shall flourish; neglect it, and the underclass shall grow, pulling all into decline. For the strength of a people lies not in its peaks, but in the breadth of its foundation.