Pretension – a negatively loaded term, defined as “the use of affectation to impress”. In contemporary society, it seems to carry a lot more weight. I see the word pretentious being wielded less for affectation or for someone being an ersatz version of what they are trying to be – rather, because they have high standards, or for correcting particular facts.
But the question arises – is it really bad to be pretentious? And what is pretentiousness, anyway? Where do we go off in labelling people as pretentious?
From Latin, the word derives from praetens, alleged, or even tendere, to stretch. It is a word game. Is it pretentious to say Barcelona in a Spanish accent, for instance? Or pretentious to watch French New Wave films instead of Love Island, to listen to jazz, to buy only organic food? Is it pretentious to possess a certain ‘je ne sais pas’ quality, an insouciance to what others think, in your sentences? The vehement and pejorative majority seem to think so. Maybe someone, somewhere, has called me pretentious, much to my dismay.
Admittedly, nobody wants to be called pretentious. In a brilliantly illuminating book, Dan Fox analyses pretension as a game where the amateur is set against the professional – a game that is rigged by tradition, qualifications, and institutional approval. Calling someone pretentious (or being called it) reflects much deeper class differences.
To be pretentious, do you think you are better than other people – or are you simply from a different level of education that ensures you know more than the ‘average’ person? Sociologists are calling people ‘cultural omnivores’ – those who can access, participate, and feel confident about a wide range of activities or culture. There is a factor of privilege in that.
Pretension now seems synonymous with snobbery. Here we can think about someone wearing a band t-shirt, and another asking them to ‘name three songs’. But isn’t there a pretension to asking that of somebody? You assuming that they are putting on a ruse, acting cultured but not being so, whereas you’re the real deal. Yet if I wore a t-shirt with Virginia Woolf’s face on it (a great idea, I know), I could automatically be labelled as being pretentious because I seem cultured and well-read, and I doubt many people would ask me to name three of her works.
Ethan Hawke, in an interview with TIME magazine, admitted that he has been pretentious his whole life, but wasn’t at all ashamed of this fact. Actually, he advised that we should be pretentious, if only with a slight bit of humour, because it means you’re aspiring to something. Speaking to young people, he instructed that we “have to create a bit of balance of maintaining that youthful hubris, otherwise you won’t get anything done.” For Hawke, then, pretension is not a bad thing but a vehicle for ambition and drive, a way of ensuring that you set your standards and your sights high, despite what other people may label you as. In fact, if pretension is simply being educated in a field that not many people are, then it will get you far – being educated is perhaps the most valuable thing you can bring to the table.
Conversely, there is nothing wrong with being a dilettante either. However, society supposedly vituperates anyone who strives for professionalism in fields that are considered traditionally ‘elite’, while also condemning those who are not privileged but attempting to succeed in those fields.
Nowadays, it feels like anyone is dubbed ‘pretentious’, from the way they carry themselves, to the cultural references they make, to their word choice and the education they received. It harkens back to Fox’s game – the person who is accusing the other is anxious that there is someone ‘better’ than them. This easily elicits anti-intellectualism, and a vehemence to knowledge or education, whereby an ‘uneducated’ person is anxious to be seen as something other than an intellectual elite, believing themselves to be better.
Perhaps a lot of this stems from British culture. We hold a sort of pride in being stupid together, yet this seems sycophantic. This brazen facetiousness has passed into online circles, where we have seen TikTok change our vocabulary and give way to coined expressions like ‘girl math,’ (propounding the notion that girls… cannot do maths?) – ultimately giving rise to a subtle anathema or discomfort to knowing things, or knowing more than the next person.
Lastly, I’d like to refer back to the ‘word game’. We are surrounded by themes of pretension, of elitism, everyday. From French cuisine in restaurants, to Latin names of plants and animals, to cafes and restaurants that seek to take us back to a better, classier time. Add the word ‘Italian’ in front of an object and suddenly it sounds much more bespoke or artisan.
Perhaps, then, it boils down simply to taste, and aspiration, as Hawke says. Pretension is mixed up tightly with negative synonyms, but these words (class, snobbery, elitism, prejudice) are superfluous. Without it, we risk becoming a grey, muddled brushstroke. Pretension underscores our personal characteristics, values, and ambitions.
