Abstract
Research in cultural class analysis shows that individuals often rely on meritocratic beliefs to justify their social position. Those in prominent roles typically attribute their success to ‘effort’ and ‘talent’, while downplaying or overlooking the influence of external resources and support in shaping their trajectories. However, these claims of ordinariness only partially explain how meritocratic beliefs shape the experiences of upward mobility. Drawing on 42 interviews with upwardly mobile and intergenerationally stable high-level professionals and managers in Lima, this article explores how upwardly mobile Limeños construct narratives about their social trajectories and justify their positions relative to their peers. It reveals that meritocratic narratives function not only as mechanisms of self-validation but also as a way for upwardly mobile individuals to distinguish themselves from their more privileged counterparts, establishing a symbolic boundary between ‘privilege’ and ‘talent’.
Introduction
This study examines the boundary-making practices of upwardly mobile individuals within Lima’s most prominent social sectors. While previous research has largely focused on the broader dynamics of inclusion and exclusion that prevail within the upper echelons of society (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Meghji, 2019), this study foregrounds the perspectives of those who have entered these spaces through social mobility. In particular, it examines how meritocratic narratives shape the ways in which upwardly mobile individuals construct symbolic boundaries (Lamont & Molnár, 2002).
Cultural class analysis shows that elites often use meritocratic narratives to legitimise their social position, attributing success to ‘effort’ and ‘talent’ while minimising the role of external resources and support (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Mijs & Savage, 2020; Reátegui et al., 2022; Reeves & Friedman, 2024). Upwardly mobile individuals frequently adopt these narratives (Goldthorpe, 1980), often telling ‘modest stories’ that frame their achievements as the outcome of being ‘ordinary’ (Miles et al., 2011). However, such claims to ordinariness only partly explain how meritocratic beliefs shape experiences of upward mobility.
Drawing on the narratives of upwardly mobile Limeños, I argue that meritocratic beliefs function as powerful tools of boundary-making that extend beyond mere expressions of modesty. I demonstrate that these beliefs serve as strategies for self-validation and for distinguishing oneself from others. The boundaries articulated in these accounts are drawn both in relation to individuals from similar class backgrounds and to privileged colleagues encountered in everyday professional settings. Within this context, meritocratic ideals act not only as justifications for one’s own ‘success story’, but also as critiques of the unearned advantages enjoyed by those from more privileged backgrounds.
The argument developed in this article unfolds in three parts. First, I show that upwardly mobile respondents often frame their trajectories through a meritocratic lens, attributing their success to innate ‘talent’, particularly within their educational journeys. This ‘sociodicy’ narrative (Bourdieu, 2000) serves as a basis for drawing boundaries with less successful peers from similar social backgrounds. It also underpins a commitment to cultural engagement, even when such practices are associated with Lima’s affluent spaces.
Second, I examine their professional accounts, which reveal a critical view of how class background provides unfair advantages to many of their peers – particularly through the cultural and social capital needed to navigate elite environments. In contrast, respondents emphasise ‘technical skills’ as a meritocratic asset that counterbalances these privileges.
Third, I argue that this ‘technical’ sense of merit-based exceptionality, combined with critiques of illegitimate privilege, forms a symbolic boundary between ‘privilege’ and ‘talent’. Drawing on research into ‘technical capital’ (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Savage, 2010), this distinction often elevates technical expertise and is particularly evident among male respondents. Furthermore, these boundary-making practices are shaped not only by class inequalities but are also deeply racialised, reflected in the association of privilege with ‘whiteness’ and the dominance of ‘White’ individuals from privileged backgrounds in elite environments (Rollock et al., 2015).
This article is structured as follows. I begin by outlining the literature on the experience of a divided habitus and its relationship to meritocratic beliefs, which provides a framework for understanding the diverse and often conflicting experiences of upwardly mobile Limeños. I then describe the fieldwork and research context that ground the study, before presenting the key findings. The conclusion summarises the study’s main contributions and its relevance to existing literature, highlighting how it sheds light on boundary-making processes rooted in merit and a racialised understanding of class asymmetries.
Struggles and drives for upward social mobility
A fish out of the water
Studies of upward mobility often highlight the emotional challenges individuals face when navigating middle-class or elite environments. Building on the ‘dissociative thesis’, such research portrays mobility as a complex process in which people feel neither fully accepted in their new class nor entirely at ease in their class of origin (Ellis & Lane, 1967; Sennett & Cobb, 1972; Sorokin, 1956). More recent work draws on Bourdieu’s (2008) concept of a divided or ‘cleft habitus’, describing the tensions experienced by those from low social origins who enter dominant class positions. Unlike privileged individuals, who navigate elite spaces with ease (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 127), the upwardly mobile often struggle to fit in due to ingrained dispositions that clash with their new environment.
These class-based struggles largely stem from upwardly mobile individuals’ lack of cultural and social capital, including unfamiliarity with the expected knowledge and behavioural codes of elite settings, as well as limited access to influential networks that foster belonging (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Rivera, 2012). Consequently, they often feel shame for not conforming to dominant cultural norms, while also feeling out of place in their original social environments, experiencing psychological costs, a sense of betrayal or feelings of ‘inauthenticity’ (Aarseth et al., 2016; Friedman, 2014; Lawler, 1999; Lee & Kramer, 2013; Reay, 2013). These challenges also create class-based symbolic and social boundaries (Southerton, 2002), marking the upwardly mobile as outsiders or ‘parvenus’, while those with inherited privilege are seen as native and comfortable within elite spaces.
However, it would be reductive to portray the experiences of upwardly mobile individuals solely in terms of struggles with fitting in and the emotional challenges that accompany this process. While such difficulties can sometimes give rise to self-elimination strategies – such as turning down promotion opportunities or opting for less prestigious career paths (Friedman & Laurison, 2019) – they do not overshadow the motivational drives that underpin individuals’ career progression and social mobility. Beyond the material rewards of attaining a higher social position, upward mobility – particularly when it grants access to the most prestigious occupations – can also function as a powerful source of recognition. As I will explore in the following section, this is especially evident when individuals frame their trajectories and achievements through the language of meritocracy.
A sociodicy of merit
Since Young (1958) introduced the term, the concept of ‘meritocracy’ has shaped discussions that promote the belief that social mobility can be achieved through ‘merit,’ ‘talent’ and ‘hard work’ (Mijs & Savage, 2020). By framing ‘merit’ as the path to a ‘better life’ for the ‘talented few’, the idea of meritocracy has been used to justify the existence of positions of authority for a deserving minority, leading to portrayals of disadvantage as personal failings rather than the result of structural forms of social disadvantage (Koh, 2016; Markovits, 2019).
Research has shown that meritocratic justifications for one’s social trajectory often coexist with an awareness of the class-based disadvantages that hinder upward mobility. This aligns with Reay et al.’s (2010) findings on working-class students in UK higher education, which reveal that while underprivileged students frequently struggle to fit in socially with their peers, they often enjoy positive and fulfilling academic trajectories that help to offset these challenges. Similarly, studies by Lawler (1999) and Mallman (2018) highlight forms of self-assurance rooted in supposedly innate qualities such as ‘talent’ and ‘intelligence’.
In the case of Lima, despite limited social mobility (World Economic Forum, 2020), the scholarship shows the prevalence – particularly those from the most underprivileged sectors – of strong aspirations for upward movement, grounded in a meritocratic belief that improving one’s social circumstances is both desirable and achievable. Public debates around meritocratic ideals such as ‘talent’ and ‘effort’ have largely focused on two domains: small business entrepreneurship and education. In the former, the work of De Soto (1987) and Arellano and Burgos (2010) has provoked discussion by presenting small entrepreneurs as models of individual achievement. These ‘entrepreneurial subjects’ are often celebrated for their apparent ability to overcome adversity and attain ‘success’ despite precarious material conditions (Cuenca et al., 2022; Lamas, 2017).
While entrepreneurship often features in public discourse, it pales in comparison to the emphasis placed by those living in disadvantaged social conditions on education as a catalyst for social mobility – an idea Degregori (2014) 1 famously referred to as the ‘myth of progress’. This ‘cultural repertoire’ (Lamont & Swidler, 2014; Swidler, 1986) presents education as a way to escape material hardship, such as rural poverty or the precarious conditions of informal urban settlements, and to break free from the jobs and lifestyles associated with these struggles (Guerrero, 2014; Villegas, 2016). However, the pursuit of educational advancement involves more than just class-specific cultural changes; it also entails a racialised break with one’s identity. This can involve moving away from a position of indigeneity in rural Peru (Ames, 2014; Rojas & Portugal, 2010) or students feeling pressured to ‘whiten’ their appearance in universities (Kogan & Galarza, 2017).
The strong link between academic success and upward mobility allows individuals to construct coherent narratives that justify their educational and professional trajectories. This reflects what Bourdieu and Wacquant (Bourdieu, 2000; Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1999) term a ‘sociodicy’ – a justificatory discourse that legitimises inequality by presenting it as natural, fair or deserved. These narratives are often rooted in meritocratic ideals – more specifically, a ‘merit-based sociodicy’ (W. Atkinson, 2024, p. 166) – which frame dominant positions as the result of supposedly innate ‘talent’. Beyond legitimising personal achievements, such heroic self-narratives help to sustain broader social disparities by presenting success as the rightful outcome of merit and ability, while overlooking the role of structural advantages and disadvantages.
In the following sections, I explore how this merit-based sociodicy, alongside the adaptive struggles associated with mobility, shapes the relationships between upwardly mobile Limeños and their peers from privileged backgrounds. I show that, although upwardly mobile individuals often struggle to fit into elite environments, this very experience enables them to draw a merit-based symbolic boundary between themselves and their privileged counterparts – one in which ideas of ‘talent’ and ‘merit’ are closely linked to a misrecognition of ‘technical’ abilities (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Savage, 2010).
Methodology
Peru exemplifies broader Latin American patterns of stark inequality and limited social mobility, with movement mostly confined to the middle strata and significant immobility at the top and bottom (Benavides & Etesse, 2012, 2016; Grompone et al., 2018). These dynamics have informed research on elite reproduction, which shows both similarities and contrasts with studies from the Global North, particularly the UK and US (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Meghji, 2019; Reeves et al., 2017). As in those contexts, access to elite spaces in Latin America and Peru is shaped by cultural and social capital linked to privilege, as well as by racial and gendered barriers (Rentería & Zárate, 2022; Torche, 2014; Torrell, 2015).
In Peru, social segregation is especially acute at the top of the social hierarchy. A small, privileged and predominantly ‘White’ minority is concentrated in Lima’s wealthiest districts, occupying exclusive social and educational spaces (Huber & Lamas, 2017; Montero-Díaz, 2019; Reátegui et al., 2022). This is mirrored in a highly stratified education system, where elite schools and private universities are dominated by the privileged, while others attend public or low-fee institutions (Benavides et al., 2015; Huber & Lamas, 2017). These spaces reflect not only class divisions but also entrenched racialised boundaries. In a city where most identify as non-White, ‘whiteness’ – and the pressure to ‘whiten’ oneself – remains a strong marker of status, success and beauty (Kogan & Galarza, 2017).
This is the context in which this research is situated. The study explores the experiences of individuals who have reached the upper echelons of Lima’s class structure. Drawing on contemporary adaptations of Bourdieu’s (2010) class analysis, I focus on members of the ‘dominant class’ (W. Atkinson, 2017; Grompone et al., 2018) and employ a qualitative methodology centred on in-depth interviews. My fieldwork took place between September and December 2022, during which I conducted 42 interviews with selected participants.
Using a Bourdieusian-inspired class scheme for Peru (Grompone et al., 2018), I selected individuals from the ‘dominant class’ across various fields. These included managerial roles, and professions like architecture, law and academia. Participants were grouped into three categories: culturally dominant (16 participants, 8 women and 8 men), such as artists and academics; balanced capital (7 participants, 4 women and 3 men), including lawyers and doctors; and economically dominant (19 participants, 5 women and 14 men), such as CEOs and financial analysts. To exclude those early in their careers, I included only respondents aged 25 and over. The final sample included 10 participants aged 25–35, 18 aged 36–49 and 14 aged 50–66.
Recruitment was primarily conducted via LinkedIn, followed by a snowball sampling strategy that built upon initial contacts. LinkedIn proved to be an effective platform for reaching professionals in prestigious occupations and had been successfully used in previous studies on the Peruvian upper class (Reátegui et al., 2022).
Participants were categorised by mobility trajectory, assessed primarily through parental occupation at age 14 (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Goldthorpe, 1980) and refined by respondents’ own accounts. Emphasising upward mobility, I prioritised those educated in public institutions, which typically serve less privileged groups. Final categorisation relied on parental occupation and resulted in three groups: ‘Established’ (10 participants from dominant-class families), ‘Short-range’ (20 from intermediate-class backgrounds, e.g. teachers or secretaries) and ‘Long-range’ (12 from working-class origins, e.g. grocers or security guards).
I chose to let respondents self-identify through the interview process rather than predefine racial categories, unlike other studies that explicitly use racial identity as a selection criterion. I made this decision because racial labels in Peru are ambiguous and fluid (Paredes, 2007; Sulmont & Callirgos, 2014), making it difficult to categorise respondents in advance. More importantly, this study aims to examine the assumptions and reasoning behind how respondents define their own racial identities. Although LinkedIn profiles often include photos, I avoided using them as a proxy for racial identification. Instead, discussions of race emerged naturally in participants’ narratives or arose towards the end of the interviews.
The interviews were conducted using a qualitative, life-history approach, which foregrounded participants’ narratives about their social trajectories and racialised experiences. This methodological choice aligns with a tradition in qualitative research that emphasises social mobility as a deeply personal and emotional process (Friedman, 2014; Mallman, 2017). The semi-structured format allowed respondents to articulate their own perspectives on their life paths, making it possible to examine how they constructed and reconstructed their identities over time (R. Atkinson, 2012). This approach was particularly useful for exploring how individuals interpret past experiences in light of their present self-conceptions and future aspirations (Block, 2017).
All interviews were conducted in Spanish and recorded with participants’ written consent. After data collection, I transcribed each interview, preserving speech patterns, pauses and silences to ensure an accurate representation of participants’ voices. Data analysis followed a thematic approach, focusing on the narratives respondents provided about their social mobility. Following analysis, I translated key segments of the transcripts into English. While recognising the difficulty of fully capturing cultural nuances in respondents’ accounts (Qun & Carey, 2024), the translations aim to convey their original meanings as faithfully as possible for an English-speaking audience. Throughout fieldwork, I documented key details and initial reflections in a research journal. Ethical considerations were paramount: informed consent was obtained from all participants, and pseudonyms were used to protect their identities.
Educational trajectories: Merit-based distinction and cultural goodwill
A key theme among upwardly mobile respondents – especially Long-range participants – was the emphasis on ‘talent’ and ‘effort’ in explaining their success. Talent was often described as visible from an early age, with parents acting as central advocates. Echoing Naudet’s (2008) study on Dalits, most respondents stressed the importance of parental support, combining financial investment in education with ongoing emotional encouragement – often, as Micaela (25, Design Producer) noted, with parents actively promoting their ‘talents’ and sharing their achievements.
I’ve always been near the top. [At the top?] Yes, yes. Ever since primary school. Maybe not always first place, but usually in the top three. [Right. And what do you think explains that?] I think it was partly talent, because it didn’t take much effort to be near the top. But I also had a lot of support. As a child, when my mum could, she’d help teach me things. I always had that kind of ‘home schooling’ – not formally, but if I didn’t understand something at school, they’d help me at home. (Nuria, Long-range, 29, Head of Investment Strategy) At family gatherings, they [my parents] proudly talk about my work, saying things like, ‘Yes, my daughter works in this field, had a meeting with so-and-so, or studied at such-and-such place’. They enjoy sharing this because, in a way, it’s also their achievement. (Micaela, Long-range, 25, Design producer)
Such accounts of early academic abilities were often used to explain how respondents accessed key opportunities throughout their educational trajectories, such as scholarships to prestigious schools and universities. Yet these narratives went beyond simply recounting academic performance: they also operated as boundary-making practices, retrospectively justifying respondents’ current social positions and distinguishing them from peers who had not achieved similar levels of success – i.e. operating as ‘merit-based sociodicy’ narratives (W. Atkinson, 2024, p. 166). This is illustrated in the testimonies of Cristian (Short-range, 28, Journalist) and Brenda (Long-range, 41, University professor). Cristian described academic ‘talent’ as a symbolic boundary that set him apart from his peers and even served as a form of protection against harassment, while for Brenda, ‘effort’ and her ambitious outlook explained her sense of disconnection from former classmates who, unlike her, remained ‘very laid-back’ about their careers.
Personally, I always understood that my strengths were intellectual, particularly in language, writing, and expressing myself. As a result, I’ve rarely been bullied by anyone. I haven’t experienced direct racism or classism, but I believe this is because of the position I assumed. Socially, I don’t consider myself very entitled, but in terms of language, which I studied, I feel confident. (Cristian, Short-range, 28, Journalist) [My former classmates] wanted to meet up. [. . .] But I didn’t feel comfortable; it’s very different. . . [Why was that?] Because they are. . . I mean, they have different outlooks. I mean. . . they’re still in the same vibe. . . I don’t know, I don’t want to say it in a negative way, but they’re different, haha. I don’t know, they’re different. They’re happy there. . . very laid-back. [. . .] I feel like they’re people who lack clear objectives. (Brenda, Long-range, 41, University professor)
If school was where upwardly mobile respondents ‘discovered’ their merit-based ‘uniqueness’, university became the space to refine these abilities alongside like-minded peers and interact with people from diverse backgrounds. Nearly all interviewees (40 of 42) attended Peru’s most prestigious universities – public and private – with all ten Established respondents at elite private institutions. Public university graduates, like Alonso (Short-range, 53, Head of a company), often valued the opportunity to connect across social divides, prompting reflection on both their privileges and disadvantages. In contrast, some alumni of elite private universities, while praising academic standards, criticised how social diversity was often accompanied by segregation – leaving those outside Lima’s elite school circuits feeling ‘out of place’ (Reátegui, 2025). As Nadia (Long-range, 48, University professor) noted, this exclusion was often expressed through the symbolically charged question: ‘What school are you from?’ (Reátegui et al., 2022). Interestingly, several Established respondents, such as Luciana (Established, 45, Architect), also described moments of cultural dislocation, though framed as encounters beyond the ‘allowed spaces’ of privileged sociability (Montero-Díaz, 2019).
Honestly, at this moment, with everything I’ve accomplished, the one thing I wouldn’t change is studying at San Marcos. Before that, I felt disadvantaged, as if society had closed doors on me, and everything was an uphill battle. But when I joined San Marcos and met my classmates, I realised: ‘I’m privileged. I have a family, a home, and food every day’. (Alonso, Short-range, 53, Head of a company) Another issue was the social distance between people, which was quite noticeable here. Back then, it was more pronounced – I think it’s much less so now. At that time, people would often ask, ‘What school are you from?’ as a way of marking that distance. (Nadia, Long-range, 48, University professor) For me, entering university represented a huge turning point in my development as a person because I came from a very bubble world. (Luciana, Established, 45, Architect)
Despite varied experiences with peers from different social backgrounds, most upwardly mobile respondents – whether from public or private institutions – generally viewed their academic trajectories positively. These reflections often focused on how university life enabled them to take part in cultural pursuits they regarded as meaningful. Cristian’s account (Short-range, 28, Journalist) exemplifies this. With an early interest in art and literature, he found that university offered ample opportunities to broaden his cultural horizons. Recalling his first year, he noted becoming aware of his cultural ‘shortcomings’ when engaging with peers. Yet rather than feeling alienated or excluded from conversations around highbrow culture (Meuleman & Meier, 2023), he actively sought to expand his knowledge and adapt to the social dynamics of Lima’s cultural production networks.
It was, let’s say, not particularly jarring. I see it more as a transition, really, just getting to know people who shared similar interests to mine. [. . .] I was always with my laptop, moving around or searching for information. [. . .] I recall being in a writing workshop and being surprised when a girl addressed the teacher by name. She was clearly from Los Reyes Rojos, a liberal, progressive school. It was like, ‘Oh, she’s even debating with the music teacher’. She mentioned a band called Los Fuckin Sombreros, which I had never heard of before. Naturally, I made a note to listen to them when I got home. So, it was a year of adjustment, but not particularly difficult. It was more about trying to make the most of everything, reading as much as I could. (Cristian, Short-range, 28, Journalist)
Like Cristian, most upwardly mobile respondents demonstrated a similar sense of ‘cultural goodwill’ (Bourdieu, 2010, p. 318), actively engaging in activities and social circles – such as going to the theatre, attending concerts or visiting art exhibitions – associated with legitimate or valued cultural practices. Although these pursuits often bore the trappings of affluence – many taking place in Lima’s most exclusive neighbourhoods – respondents did not view their involvement as snobbish or as a form of ‘class betrayal’ (Skeggs, 1997, p. 78). Instead, they emphasised how such practices deepened their pre-existing cultural interests. Much like Lawler’s (1999) upwardly mobile women, who claimed they had always been ‘middle-class’ on account of their enduring cultural dispositions, respondents typically framed these engagements as affirmations of who they already were. Rather than signifying a transformation, their participation in these cultural spaces served to reinforce their sense of distinctiveness.
Upwardly mobile respondents’ appreciation of these cultural activities stood in sharp contrast to their views on other forms of sociability associated with Lima’s upper echelons. As the following sections show, the latter often made it more difficult for them to navigate elite environments and became a basis for drawing symbolic boundaries with their privileged peers.
Professional journeys: Know-how and know-whom
The ‘cultural goodwill’ shown by upwardly mobile respondents during university – when engaging in cultural activities with like-minded peers – contrasted sharply with their later professional experiences. Their testimonies highlighted the challenge of fitting into environments dominated by the privileged, where others moved with ease, like ‘fish in water’ (Bourdieu & Wacquant, 1992, p. 127). As they advanced in their careers, respondents often reflected on the disadvantages of lacking influential networks and not knowing the unspoken behavioural norms of professional life (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Rivera, 2012).
Social connections frequently emerged as a key marker of distinction between privileged and underprivileged upbringings. While most upwardly mobile respondents acknowledged the value of influential contacts in advancing professionally, their Established counterparts seldom mentioned them or tended to downplay their significance. Ricardo’s account (Established, 48, Architect) illustrates this. Responding to criticisms that Lima’s architectural firms operate through closed circles, or ‘argollas’, 2 he portrayed such networks as a natural feature of professional life rather than a uniquely Peruvian issue. For him, these ties were linked to ‘talent’ rather than privilege, implying that career advancement was merit-based rather than socially determined.
In practice, there’s a lot of argolla, not so much social and economic as in other fields, but related to the training and professional or academic affiliations within the group. If you studied with certain individuals, you enter an aura of the elite. Working in a particular office for a long time also grants recognition among these elite circles. This creates a mantra of recognition where one must carefully consider their actions. This dynamic exists regardless of the country, with certain architects being known due to their influential mentors, and this pattern is common in offices worldwide. (Ricardo, Established, 48, Architect)
Ricardo’s reflection sharply contrasts with the views of most upwardly mobile respondents regarding the advantages of social connections. As illustrated in the testimonies of Alonso (Short-range, 53, Head of a company) and Cecilia (Short-range, 34, Business executive), they did not view these connections as dependent on ‘talent’ or ‘merit’, but rather as social and familial ties – ultimately rooted in class privilege. They believed these networks provided unfair advantages in professional settings, favouring individuals from privileged backgrounds over those who, like themselves, had earned their positions through hard work and perseverance throughout their careers.
I wasn’t anyone’s cousin, relative, or connected in any way. I had no influential family ties. It wasn’t [that I felt] outright rejection, but I found it challenging. I felt very comfortable in the professional environment, but when it came to the social aspects, it was different. It was all about connections: ‘Hey, my cousin is going to help us. Look, this guy and my wife, Maca, are in the same club and have the same Pilates trainer’. [. . .] Seeing these things stirred up feelings in me – maybe not remorse, but perhaps a bit of anger. I had to work hard, do all the homework, put in the effort, study, train, work, quit jobs, and search for new ones to reach the peak of my career. But others didn’t need to do any of that. (Alonso, Short-range, 53, Head of a company) That’s another thing: the network. I noticed that many people got internships through their connections because their fathers worked in the industry. I didn’t have that kind of network. My dad was in the military, and my mum was a nurse. My friends’ parents were mostly middle or lower-middle class, so I didn’t have any influential connections. I wasn’t ‘mummy’s or daddy’s daughter’. I was very aware that I lacked the network others had, which gave them their first opportunity. That first opportunity is incredibly valuable. It sets the stage for everything that follows. (Cecilia, Short-range, 34, Business executive)
While many upwardly mobile respondents viewed advantages tied to social networks with scepticism, they took a different view when reflecting on another challenge to ‘fitting in’ within professional environments: their unfamiliarity with the behavioural codes and dress expected in elite settings. Respondents stressed the importance not only of technical expertise but also of what many – particularly those in economics, finance and management – called ‘soft skills’. These included social abilities such as teamwork, leadership and networking, which are widely promoted in managerial discourse. Many identified these interactional competencies as key to career progression, often giving those from privileged backgrounds a significant edge in accessing the most prestigious and highest-earning roles. Aware of these barriers, some respondents actively sought to redress them. As Alejandro (Long-range, 33, Deputy investor) recounted, he and colleagues from similar backgrounds set up an NGO to support students from public universities across the country. The organisation provided training in finance, shared information about job opportunities, and helped students acquire the behavioural codes considered essential for success in elite sectors.
We offer various training programmes, including mentorship, academic courses, and boot camps, where we provide students with both technical tools and soft skills to secure quality internships in their areas of interest, particularly in investment and corporate finance. [. . .] Many of these graduates have successfully entered the job market, yielding impressive results. For instance, a girl from Cuzco who attended Santiago Abad University, studying Administration or Economics, secured a position at [name of the company], which is known for being highly elitist and typically recruiting individuals proficient in English. (Alejandro, Long-range, 33, Deputy investor)
Another recurring theme regarding beneficial behaviour in work environments and related social spheres was learning the behavioural codes that govern these settings. Unlike ‘soft skills’, these are less about abilities and daily work tasks and more about knowing how to present oneself in social environments frequented by prominent individuals. As illustrated in Brenda’s (Long-range, 41, University professor) testimony, this included knowing how to dress ‘appropriately’ for different settings, how to approach people of varying ranks, and being open to engaging in activities and topics associated with elite social circles.
My mentors began to take an interest in me because they saw my potential in certain areas. They started to include me in various customs and practices – changing my clothes, adopting a different perspective, and preparing myself to learn about new topics. That was part of the process. So, of course, it was like some people said: ‘Who is this girl, and what does she deserve to be here?’ Additionally, I obviously didn’t earn the same as others. There were people wearing different brands and dressing in a very different way at that time. So, it was a learning process. (Brenda, Long-range, 41, University professor)
Brenda’s testimony highlights another important theme raised by some respondents when discussing challenges in the workplace: the role of senior staff who acted as mentors. These mentors provided guidance, career advice and valuable insights that helped respondents learn the behavioural cues necessary for professional success. For instance, Federico (Short-range, 41, Company manager) recalled how some mentors created opportunities for their mentees to test themselves in environments where they could interact with influential figures. Many, including Federico, regarded attending conferences, summits and social events as key opportunities to engage with sector leaders and learn the norms, styles and manners expected in elite circles.
One day, she approached me and said, ‘Hey, I’ve been invited to speak about carbon credits in [South American country], but you know more about this than I do, so you should go. I’ll pass the opportunity on to you.’ It was a highly important summit with all the presidents in attendance. I was there with [former Peruvian president] at the Peru kiosk. (Federico, Short-range, 41, Manager in a company)
Most upwardly mobile respondents described their relationships with mentors as grounded in trust and confidence, but above all in the mentors’ recognition of what had always set them apart: their ‘talent’. As the following section explores in more detail, this notion of talent was repeatedly invoked as a key boundary-making practice – used to explain their own success and to differentiate themselves from more privileged peers.
Talent over privilege
While most interviewees noted that workers from underprivileged backgrounds remained significantly underrepresented in higher managerial roles, many upwardly mobile respondents believed the opposite applied in fields that required ‘technical skills’. In these high-skilled roles, they felt that ‘talent’ and ‘intelligence’ mattered more than the advantages tied to a privileged background. Crucially, these claims revealed a common boundary-making process within their testimonies: respondents often used narratives of ‘talent’ to justify their own professional success and social position, and to distinguish themselves from their privileged peers.
On the one hand, this boundary-making process challenges the feelings of inadequacy or ‘impostor syndrome’ that the literature often identifies as key emotional hurdles of upward mobility (Sennett & Cobb, 1972). On the other hand, respondents’ testimonies resonate with broader discussions about the role of ‘technical’ knowledge – or ‘technical capital’ – in shaping middle-class ethos. Savage (2010) traces the emergence of a new group of ‘experts’ across twentieth-century Britain, showing how their technical knowledge disrupted the snobbish cultural norms of traditional middle-class society. More recently, Friedman and Laurison (2019) have demonstrated that work environments which prioritise ‘technical capital’ 3 tend to reduce the advantages associated with a privileged background. This perspective echoes the testimonies of Jose (Short-range, 55, University professor) and Alejandro (Long-range, 33, Deputy investor), who emphasised the value of their ‘talent’ in levelling a playing field otherwise skewed towards the ‘self-marketing abilities’ – in Jose’s words – of their privileged colleagues.
Managerial positions were typically filled by individuals from elite local schools or foreign universities, with training abroad being common at that time. In contrast, in the technology sector where we worked, there wasn’t much difference. I recall colleagues from UNI, some industrial engineers from La Católica, and a few electronics specialists from other universities. Later on, I realised that the energy sector is very technologically focused. It’s a field where technical problem-solving skills and intelligence are highly valued, rather than sales or self-marketing abilities. Consequently, there isn’t much social or racial disparity in this sector. (Jose, Short-range, 55, University professor) He attended Newton [school] and went to La Católica. There were also people from the UP, among others. But I never felt. . . I mean, there were conversations I couldn’t join in on. For instance, ‘Hey, I went to the beach house on the weekend’ or ‘I went surfing’, because those experiences were unfamiliar to me due to my background and access. However, I compensated by delving into technical topics. I believe this helped develop my personality significantly. (Alejandro, Long-range, 33, Deputy investor)
These testimonies reveal more than the belief that technical expertise can, in some fields, offset the arbitrary or unfair advantages held by those from privileged backgrounds. Concepts such as ‘expertise’, ‘talent’ and ‘intelligence’ emerged as sources of pride, marking them as distinct from others – serving as a form of personal distinction. In interviews with upwardly mobile respondents, particularly those who have reached high positions in their industries, these ideas frequently appeared as central to their personal narratives. In these accounts, merit triumphed over discrimination and the perceived unfair advantages of others. Respondents often framed their journeys as heroic stories, emphasising that, despite the odds, they achieved their prominent positions solely through their ‘talents’.
As shown previously, most upwardly mobile respondents recalled their early academic experiences with a sense of intellectual superiority, reinforced by their strong performance in school and university. Their testimonies often revealed an ongoing process of drawing boundaries between themselves and others, particularly peers they viewed as ‘less talented’. This symbolic boundary based on ‘talent’ also emerged in the workplace, where it served as a way of distinguishing themselves from colleagues with privileged backgrounds. Jorge’s (Long-range, 31, Financial analyst) testimony illustrates this pattern, as he frequently paired his reflections with critical comments about senior staff who, despite holding influential positions, ‘may not necessarily be the brightest people’.
I approach everyone I interact with on a level playing field because I believe that, intellectually speaking, I don’t feel inferior. However, I’ve noticed that sometimes those in higher management positions can make very misguided decisions and may not necessarily be the brightest people. (Jorge, Long-range, 31, Financial analyst)
Displays of entitlement rooted in ‘talent’ or ‘intelligence’ appeared most frequently in the accounts of male respondents. This highlights a gendered dimension of meritocracy, particularly through male-centred justifications of technical expertise, or ‘technical capital’, as discussed by Savage (2010) and Friedman and Laurison (2019). In contrast, female respondents, such as Lucrecia (Short-range, 51, Actor), tended to emphasise narratives that foregrounded effort and perseverance as key to their success. This pattern aligns with research on gendered claims to authority in leadership roles (Bowles, 2012; Katila & Eriksson, 2013), as women in the sample generally avoided the meritocratic entitlement that characterised many of the male interviewees’ accounts. Although most upwardly mobile women reached levels of academic and professional success comparable to their male counterparts, their life stories included fewer claims about their ‘intelligence’, less justification of their achievements, and fewer comparisons that distanced them from ‘less talented’ or more privileged colleagues.
If I have to say something [I am grateful], it’s art. I mean, I’ve supported my family a lot and I don’t complain about that. But it’s because of art, it’s because of my effort, dedication, and perseverance. I haven’t let myself fall, probably not letting myself fall for any mistreatment, right? (Lucrecia, Short-range, 51, Actor)
There are two main differences between the boundary-making described by Savage (2010) and the distinctions drawn by respondents between ‘talent’ and ‘privilege’. First, unlike Savage’s technical cadre who rejected ‘gentlemanly, artistic, highbrow motifs’ in favour of a technical outlook, upwardly mobile respondents did not oppose highbrow culture. As discussed earlier, many expressed deference to it in ways that recall Bourdieu’s (2010) notion of petit-bourgeois reverence for legitimate culture. Their critiques focused instead on privileged peers flaunting wealth through luxury holidays, fine dining and elite gossip. This contrast may reflect a broader detachment of Lima’s dominant class, particularly those in economically powerful positions, from highbrow cultural products and the limited use of these practices as strategies of distinction. 4
Second, respondents’ accounts of the social divide between ‘privilege’ and ‘talent’ often carried a strong racialised dimension, linking ‘upper-classness’ with ‘whiteness’. Many, like Cristian (Short-range, 28, Journalist) and Raul (Long-range, 54, Health policy advisor), referred to individuals from privileged backgrounds as ‘Blancos’ (‘Whites’), depicting them as embodying both racialised and class-based markers of status. These included a phenotypically ‘white’ appearance, education at elite private schools, membership in exclusive clubs and family ties to long-established, prestigious lineages. In their view, such individuals occupied the upper echelons of professional hierarchies.
Following university [. . .] I began working for [name of organisation]. It was, once again, a right-wing publication, with a liberal leaning. All the editors were White, hailing from prestigious universities and colleges. That’s where I started my role as an editor. (Cristian, Short-range, 28, Journalist) I always feel uncomfortable; it’s a constant feeling. I don’t belong to that society, to that White upper class of the country. Culturally, socially, and economically, I don’t fit in. Economically, after many years of working and earning a good income, I may belong to that group statistically speaking, but I don’t feel like I am part of it. I don’t feel that I belong. (Raul, Long-range, 54, Health policy advisor)
These racialised depictions of class inequality shaped respondents’ experiences of upward mobility as a form of entry into elite spaces structured by what Rollock et al. (2015) describe as the ‘Whiteworld’ – professional environments organised around the values, norms and expectations associated with whiteness and elite privilege. These testimonies highlight the persistence of values and behaviours associated with whiteness as the normative standard across various industries, while also pointing to the often-unspoken advantages enjoyed by ‘White’ individuals (Avilés, 2017; Balcazar et al., 2011). More broadly, they reflect the prevalence of a deeply racialised imaginary surrounding class inequalities – a phenomenon scholars have also observed among Peru’s lower social echelons (Bourricaud, 1975; De la Cadena, 1995; Degregori, 2014).
Final remarks
In this article, I have focused on the boundary-making practices of upwardly mobile individuals within Lima’s upper echelons of society. I have shown how these individuals draw on meritocratic narratives of ‘talent’ and ‘effort’ to distinguish themselves both from their ‘less successful’ peers linked to their social backgrounds and from privileged individuals they encounter in their daily working environments. I demonstrate that their educational trajectories play a particularly significant role in shaping a self-narrative centred on their perceived ‘talents’, while their professional journeys are marked by cultural and social challenges that alienate them from Lima’s elite circles. In this context, I argue that their meritocratic sense of worth is employed to legitimise their positions of prominence and to distinguish themselves from their privileged counterparts, thereby establishing a boundary between ‘talent’ and ‘privilege’.
These findings resonate with cultural analyses of social mobility, particularly the cultural and social challenges that upwardly mobile individuals encounter in elite environments (Aarseth et al., 2016; Friedman, 2016; Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Lawler, 1999; Mallman, 2018). At the same time, they highlight important differences in the emotional impact of mobility and in how respondents perceive their relationships with privileged peers. Rather than expressing guilt, inner conflict or the emotional turmoil often associated with a ‘divided habitus’, upwardly mobile respondents emphasised the strong emotional support they received from their families and foregrounded their legitimacy in occupying prominent positions. This pride, rooted in a meritocratic sense of self-worth, in turn helped establish a symbolic boundary between themselves, as the ‘talented’, and their privileged counterparts.
Moreover, I show that these boundaries cannot be reduced to class asymmetries alone, but are also shaped by deeply racialised and gendered dynamics. The former highlights the need to move beyond ‘colour-blind’ approaches to social mobility, revealing how notions of class privilege and distinction are intertwined with values associated with ‘whiteness’ and expectations to ‘whiten’ (Kogan & Galarza, 2017; Meghji, 2019; Rollock et al., 2015; Wallace, 2018). The latter is evident in the prominence of meritocratic beliefs – particularly those emphasising the value of ‘technical’ expertise – among men in the sample, echoing previous research on ‘technical capital’ (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Savage, 2010).
Furthermore, these findings raise the question of whether respondents’ reliance on merit-based recognition as a motivational and distinguishing narrative is specific to the Peruvian context or reflects a broader experience of upward mobility. While an empirical examination is necessary to address this fully, I suspect the latter, given the global spread of meritocratic discourse and its influence in shaping ‘success stories’, particularly amid current trends of rising global inequality (Mijs, 2021). Cultural analyses of mobility often focus on how the ideology of meritocracy conceals or downplays the advantages associated with privileged social backgrounds (Friedman & Laurison, 2019; Gessaghi, 2016; Reátegui et al., 2022). What remains less explored, and which this study addresses, is how those who achieve ‘exceptional success’ actively use this ideology to frame their class trajectories and, as shown here, to position themselves relative to their privileged peers.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank the participants of this study for generously sharing their time and experiences. I am also grateful to the anonymous reviewers for their insightful feedback and to the editorial team for their support. This research would not have been possible without the constant guidance of Wendy Bottero and Bridget Byrne. My heartfelt thanks to both of you.
Ethical considerations
The study from which the data of this article were generated was approved by the Social Sciences School Panel of the University of Manchester on 16 May 2022 (Ref: 2022-14239-23511).
Funding
This research was funded by the School of Social Sciences at the University of Manchester.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Data availability statement
Due to ethical requirements, data sharing is not available. The participants did not give written consent for their data to be publicly shared.
