Your ‘Good Taste’ Is Just Social Violence in Disguise
Imagine you are scrolling through social media, or perhaps at a friend’s house. Someone casually dismisses a certain genre of music as “noise,” or scoffs at a popular decorating style as “so tacky.” Perhaps you’ve done it yourself. It feels harmless, doesn’t it? Just an expression of personal preference, a declaration of your unique aesthetic sensibility. A simple matter of taste.
But what if this seemingly innocent act of judgment isn’t so benign? What if, beneath the veneer of discerning palates and sophisticated preferences, lies a more insidious mechanism? A hidden language of power, exclusion, and even a subtle form of violence.
The Invisible Scorecard of Society
We are often taught that taste is entirely individual, a sacred realm of personal choice. You like what you like, and I like what I like. End of story. But is it really?
Think about the subtle cues we pick up from childhood: what kind of art is “good,” what literature is “classic,” what food is “refined,” what fashion is “stylish.” These aren’t just random preferences; they are often inherited, learned, and meticulously reinforced by our social environments.
We navigate a world subtly divided by these aesthetic lines. A preference for artisanal coffee over instant, independent films over blockbusters, abstract art over landscape paintings – these choices often carry unspoken baggage. They act as markers, signaling not just what we enjoy, but who we are, where we come from, and where we belong. Or, crucially, where we do not.
Bourdieu’s Unsettling Truth: Taste as a Social Weapon
The French sociologist Pierre Bourdieu brilliantly unmasked this illusion. For Bourdieu, our aesthetic preferences are not merely personal expressions; they are deeply intertwined with our social class and serve as powerful, often unconscious, weapons used to maintain existing hierarchies and exclude others.
He argued that “taste” is a manifestation of “habitus” – a system of dispositions acquired through our life experiences, particularly our upbringing and education, which shapes our perceptions, thoughts, and actions.
What we deem ‘good taste’ is, in essence, the dominant class’s taste, acting as cultural capital deployed to maintain hierarchies. Those who possess this “good taste” gain social advantage, while those who don’t are implicitly, and often explicitly, relegated to a lower status. It’s a system designed to perpetuate privilege, making the arbitrary seem natural, the learned seem innate.
Taste classifies the classifier.
— Pierre Bourdieu
This isn’t about conscious malice. Most people aren’t intentionally using their music preferences to subjugate others. But the system itself works this way. Our judgments about “tacky” clothing, “unsophisticated” entertainment, or “unrefined” accents become tools for creating distance, reinforcing boundaries, and affirming our own position by denigrating others.
The Everyday Manifestations of Aesthetic Violence
Where do we see this play out? Everywhere.
Cultural Gatekeeping: From art critics dictating what is “high art” to foodies lamenting the “uneducated palate,” these judgments reinforce a hierarchy of cultural consumption.
Educational Exclusion: The unstated expectation in elite institutions that one should be familiar with certain cultural touchstones, even if unrelated to academic performance.
Professional Barriers: The “fit” of an employee often extends beyond skills to include their general demeanor, conversational topics, and indeed, their expressed tastes.
Social Silencing: The person who feels they can’t speak up about their interests because they’re “not cultured enough” or will be judged for their “lowbrow” preferences.
This “violence” isn’t physical, but it is deeply damaging. It erodes self-esteem, creates feelings of inadequacy, and limits opportunities. It tells people, often implicitly, that their way of being, their cultural background, their very self, is less valuable.
Beyond the Snob: Recognizing the Game
Understanding Bourdieu’s insights isn’t about condemning individual preferences or labeling everyone a snob. It’s about recognizing the systemic nature of taste and its role in social stratification. It’s about becoming aware of the invisible rules of the game.
When you declare something has “bad taste,” are you truly expressing an objective aesthetic judgment, or are you, perhaps unconsciously, asserting your own social standing? Are you merely distinguishing yourself from an “other” whose preferences threaten your perceived cultural capital?
The deepest part of our existence is that which we least suspect.
— Paul Valéry
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Conclusion
So, the next time you find yourself about to critique someone’s choice in art, music, fashion, or even their accent, pause. Ask yourself: Is this truly an objective critique of beauty or quality? Or am I, perhaps unknowingly, engaging in a subtle act of social classification, reinforcing invisible barriers and perpetuating a system that judges and excludes?
Unmasking “good taste” for what it often is – a form of social violence – allows us to dismantle its power, one conscious reflection at a time. It invites us to cultivate genuine appreciation, empathy, and a more inclusive understanding of the diverse tapestry of human expression, freeing ourselves and others from the invisible chains of aesthetic judgment.




I’ve noticed that taste, as a function of consensus, is often classist. The editorial taste of The New Yorker for instance. But there is another kind of taste, one that is personal and seems to register experiential truth. The latter taste transcends class, popularity, genre and academic classification. For instance, there are certain moments of controlled dissonance (noise) in music that just sound good, because they deliver a kind of experiential truth. These moments of what highbrow culture might call ugly are sometimes quite powerful and, well, tasteful. This kind of taste is esthetic in the sense of being integral to a truth of human experience. It is not related to class but to the effect of art on the senses. It is basically what tastes good to the eyes and ears and seems apt to the truth that the painting or song is trying to manifest.
Damn bro the way words are arranged in your writing that is just too juicy for me to read