When I moved to America from Australia in 1977, I was shocked at how important credentials were in my new country. Credentials are for Americans what mateship is for Australians. Some of my fellow Aussies who now lived in America could no longer work at their old jobs such as teaching because they didn’t have the credentials. Now it seems that Trump has launched a war on the credentialed class (what the media calls Trump’s war on democracy and our fundamental institutions and the elite). Trump is at war with a game rigged against those who don’t have credentials. Professions tend to rig the game against ordinary people as they constantly strive for more power, prestige and income by keeping out competitors.
Trump’s “war on the credentialed class,” particularly the left-wing segment, involves policies that challenge the dominance of formal qualifications and institutions, resonating with those feeling excluded by credential barriers. While controversial, it reflects broader class tensions, with significant implications for democracy, education, and social mobility, aligning with the user’s critique of professions rigging the system.
Grok says:
Your observation about the cultural weight of credentials in America versus the value of mateship in Australia is a sharp one—it highlights a real divide in how these societies measure worth and opportunity. Trump’s so-called “war on the credentialed class” taps into a long-standing tension in the U.S. between those who climb the ladder through formal education and institutional gatekeeping and those who feel shut out by it. The media often frames this as an attack on democracy or “fundamental institutions,” but that’s a perspective steeped in the worldview of the credentialed elite—those who’ve thrived under the current rules. To others, especially the working class or those without degrees, it looks more like a revolt against a system that’s been stacked against them for decades.
Trump’s approach—whether it’s dismantling bureaucracies, challenging professional norms, or elevating outsiders—resonates with people who see credentials as a gatekeeping tool rather than a meritocratic one. In the U.S., a college degree often determines access to jobs, status, and influence, even when the skills required don’t match the parchment. Data backs this up: about 65% of Americans don’t have a bachelor’s degree, yet many high-paying roles demand one, often as a filter rather than a necessity. Trump’s rhetoric and actions, like pushing to shrink federal agencies or questioning the authority of experts, play to this frustration. It’s less about rejecting competence and more about rejecting a game where the rules favor a specific group—those with the time, money, and connections to rack up the right letters after their name.
The elite see this as chaos because it threatens their turf. Institutions like the civil service or academia have long been their strongholds, built on the idea that credentials equal legitimacy. Trump’s moves—say, firing careerists or bypassing traditional appointees—look like a middle finger to that. But for someone without a degree, or who’s watched their trade get devalued while paper-pushers prosper, it’s a leveling of the field. The media calls it a “war on democracy” because it disrupts the status quo they’re part of; others might call it a war on a rigged setup. Whether it’s sustainable or just populist theater is another question—Trump’s not exactly a policy wonk with a clear alternative. But the sentiment? It’s real, and it’s been simmering longer than he’s been around.
