TOM EATON | There’s nothing private about the cruel elitism of ultra-rich schools

I am only partially surprised that boys from an extremely expensive private school in Cape Town reportedly flung R2 coins at boys from a less expensive state school, apparently mocking them for being “poor”.

According to the press, boys from Diocesan College, aka Bishops, hurled the coins after a rugby match against Wynberg Boys High School, a display denounced as “elitist” by some Wynberg parents.

I understand why they’re angry, but I’m not sure elitism is the really surprising part here. Elitism, after all, is the whole point of private schools like Bishops.

To be clear, I’m not trying be controversial. In fact, I suspect most of the parents who send their sons to these schools would agree with me.

Certainly, years of matric results provide reams of proof that elite private schools offer nothing academically that isn’t available at most well-run state schools for a fraction of the cost.

To get upset that Bishops — a school which costs up to R290,000 a year — is being elitist is a bit like getting upset that a stuffed-crust pizza with extra cheese is making you chunky.

What they do offer that cheaper schools don’t, however, is socioeconomic lubrication.

It doesn’t matter if, to quote Noel Coward, your education lacks a certain coordination. All that matters is that, by sitting on those antique pews in that stone chapel, or by grunting away in that rowing boat, or daydreaming away all those years in that musty classroom, you are automatically entered into the great intangible, invisible but very real Rolodex of influence; which, if you don’t cock it up entirely, will ease you past all sorts of gatekeepers and into all sorts of positions of relative privilege and power.

In short, to get upset that Bishops — a school which costs up to R290,000 a year — is being elitist is a bit like getting upset that a stuffed-crust pizza with extra cheese is making you chunky. It’s just doing what it says on the box.

I’m certainly not surprised that they chose to use money as a way to claim their higher status: they have been born into a world of constant financial display, from rap superstars fanning wads of banknotes to tech billionaires buying themselves yachts and rocket- powered penis implants.

I’m not even particularly surprised or outraged that schoolboys were cruel. If you’ve been to school, you will surely know that some children have a genius for cruelty, and if you combine that with a child’s need to stand out by looking special or dangerous or iconoclastic, you can get some fantastically shitty behaviour.

What does stand out of this sordid little affair for me, however, is the fact that the Bishops boys think Wynberg boys — whose school borders the ultra-rich suburb of Bishopscourt, and which boasts a number of lush sports fields plus a pavilion — are poor.

Elitism is part of the deal. Cruelty is almost a biological imperative. And of course teenagers are ignorant. But if Bishops boys genuinely think that pupils from a fractionally less green, leafy and privileged enclave are literally poor, then I fear their education is less coordinated than I thought.