Those who get ahead through education never rise alone—despite what many claim. This article draws on recent research to explore the trajectories of individuals from middle and lower-class backgrounds in Chile.
Proofreading: Mark Briam/ Aquí, la versión en español. Here, the Spanish version
Contemporary societies increasingly struggle to provide new generations with the opportunities and tools they need for upward social mobility. Higher education, promoted as an essential engine for this purpose, appears to be reaching its limits in many parts of the world. In Spain, for example, education is referred to as a «broken elevator.» In the UK, Ingram et al. (2023) argue that opportunities and returns for graduates have significantly diminished, especially for the less privileged. Similarly, in Australia, those born from the 1980s onward—millennials and Gen Z—are among the first generations facing worse conditions than their parents. How is this playing out in Chile?
In recent decades, the social elevator through education yielded positive results (COES, Social Mobility Study). However, for younger generations, the horizon seems to be darkening. According to the National Youth Survey, in 2022, a majority believed that «more than degrees, specific skills learned on the job are now valued,» while between 2018 and 2022, the perception that «it doesn’t matter what you study, you’ll end up working in whatever is available» has grown. Additionally, since 2012, data suggests that perceptions of opportunities to secure a good job have steadily worsened (National Youth Institute, 2022). This may be fuelling a growing sense of discontent.
Despite these perceptions, for a significant portion of Chile’s population, education still represents the possibility of social advancement. The data and analysis presented here are part of a series of studies[1] examining the trajectories of individuals from middle and lower socioeconomic backgrounds, shedding light on the strategies they use and their ways of confronting upward mobility. We asked them about the difficulties they have faced, how they resolved them, and how they evaluate the path that has allowed them to go beyond their family history. This analysis will focus on three crucial junctures in the lives of our interviewees:
- The transition from school to higher education as a period that is marked by tensions regarding what society seems to expect from new generations and in which the idea that individual effort is a key strategy for getting ahead takes hold.
- The experiences of studying at elite universities and careers, spaces that young people from middle and lower-class backgrounds often perceive as foreign and challenging, where essentially they feel they must start from scratch.
- The experiences and perceptions of individuals with upward social mobility trajectories regarding the path they have traveled.
The idea that individual merit has been a key element in these stories appears repeatedly in the testimonies. This is not surprising, as these trajectories have required significant personal effort. Moreover, at a societal level, a paradox arises: the more unequal a society is, the stronger the belief becomes that those who succeed do so solely through their own merit and hard work (Mijs, 2021).
However, as a general conclusion, this article suggests that those from less privileged backgrounds who achieve social mobility do not do so without the support of others. They emerge precisely because they are not entirely alone. Even those who attribute their ascent primarily to their own efforts have also relied on family and social networks that were there at key moments to support them and to prevent their downfall. This suggests that education continues to function as a social elevator insofar as the ascent is supported by a network that provides the necessary tools and resources.
THE CHALLENGING SHIFT
In societies like Chile, education is primarily seen as a path to greater well-being and to a better social position. Especially in middle and lower-class groups, it is common to find testimonies of students pushing their educational trajectories forward, arguing that it will allow them to «get ahead.» Juan (18), a high school senior whose father completed third grade and his mother eighth grade in primary school, states that he would like to continue studying because he wants to «be more than them» and because «I want to be someone and to escape (poverty).»
Catalina (19), also in her final year of school, shares a similar perspective. Her mother finished high school, her father eighth grade, and her dream is to attend university, ideally to study law. When asked about the future, the idea of studying appears as an external demand, a requirement society has imposed on young people so they can prove their worth: «In the society in which we live, they demand that we get a degree to satisfy ourselves, to be able to hold our head up high.»
Among lower-income groups, the narratives students construct are influenced by uncertainty about the future. A recurring barrier is money—both the cost of studying and the income the family loses when a young person does not work.
Julio (19), a student in a technical-professional high school, reflects on this: «I don’t work, and at home, everything we do is just to pay off debts. So, continuing in higher education would still be a money problem.»
Faced with this reality, Julio also considers other options, such as obtaining a scholarship, though he would prefer the path of effort and sacrifice because «I’ll put in more effort if I’m working my ass off to pay for my degree.»
Money is not the only factor influencing young people’s aspirations for the future. Although a vast majority aspire to continue studying after high school, these aspirations and possibilities are markedly influenced by social position and by the type of educational institution they attend. In other words, student aspirations are socially segmented, aligned with each student’s social position, reflecting a highly segregated school system (Palma-Amestoy, 2022).
Thus, gaining access to a highly selective university or to an elite, traditional degree program is not only limited by families’ financial capacity but also by a series of cultural, moral, and emotional factors which shape students’ desires, ambitions, and expectations—factors that may pre-emptively limit their personal projects. This is the case for Silvia, who is in her final year of technical-professional high school. Her plan is to continue studying, but she prefers to rule out university for reasons beyond the cost: «I don’t think I’d like to go to a university. For me, that’s where the most ‘cuiquitos‘ (posh people) go and I would prefer to go unnoticed instead of always being seen as poor.»
Social origin determines material possibilities but also shapes and limits people’s dreams and ambitions. A major challenge that strains and calls into question the meritocratic ideal, therefore, is the inequality of opportunities and the disparate experiences surrounding the educational process. Despite all this, some still manage to get ahead. In this regard, the experiences of our interviewees show that there is no single recipe but rather multiple individual, collective, and structural factors which intertwine: perseverance, family, envisioning a horizon, proper advice or guidance, or institutional support, among others.
Challenges in Higher Education
Chile’s educational system often operates as a mechanism which selects, discards, and distributes students according to their social origin. Partly for this reason, we can say that those who do not come from the most privileged groups, even when they do manage to enter elite universities and degree programs, are only halfway through an upward social mobility trajectory. In the U.S., Morton (2021) has called these individuals ‘strivers’—people who, with their parents’ support but limited resources and practical knowledge, have managed to navigate university through effort, perseverance, and struggle.
What is their experience in Chile? What difficulties do they face at university? What facilitates their journey? These are some of the questions guiding ongoing research.
Preliminary findings highlight several interrelated aspects. Entering an elite university and degree program means facing a path full of obstacles. While all first-time higher education students confront a new context, for this group, university presents itself as a particularly challenging space, often foreign, with few or no personal references to anchor themselves or to lean on. One of the first challenges— often a source of great anxiety and distress—is the gap in academic terms or cultural capital, as they generally go from being top students in their schools to feeling like they are starting from scratch, unlike their peers from higher-class backgrounds.
Andrea (26), in her first civil engineering classes at an elite institution, experienced this gap with a strong sense of feeling overwhelmed and frustrated: «The truth is, the transition from high school to university hit me hard.» Vicente (18) had a similar experience: «It was like starting off on the wrong foot because I’d never seen anything so different.»
The first year is perhaps the hardest. However, many manage to push forward, even if it means failing or dropping courses and often accepting that they will spend one or two extra years studying compared to their more privileged peers. Others will simply drop out to seek new paths.
How this process is lived and confronted depends on various contextual and personal factors. What is common, however, is the acquisition of a ‘sense of inequality’ (Bottero, 2019)—an understanding of the multiple constraints and barriers faced in a given context, which generates a practical and reflective response. For example, some gradually learn to organize their time and study methods, while others seek support among peers with whom they forge closer bonds.
The adjustment process is gradual, and the idea of sacrifice, dedication, and the need to adapt and persevere reemerges to avoid truncating dreams that belong not only to the student but to the entire family—an additional emotional burden. At various points in their trajectories, those who endure demonstrate that education is not an individual project but, above all, a family and collective one. It is no coincidence that a vast majority of participants, when evaluating their life paths and the factors that have led them to their current situation, highlight the backing and trust of their family, the advice and guidance of a teacher, or the support of peers.
Mariana, for example, moved to Santiago to study civil engineering. When discussing the most important factors that have sustained her trajectory, she notes that «my parents’ support was fundamental—them telling me to believe in myself, that I was capable of more than I was aspiring to.»
Manuel, a business administration student, offers an even more illustrative testimony: «In my senior year, I couldn’t afford a prep course for the university entrance exam, but my math teacher and my homeroom history teacher played a huge role. We stayed after class every day doing practice exercises for the PSU [university entrance exam] at the time. These two teachers always encouraged us to go further, to push ourselves, to keep going. And above all, to serve others. That was the driving force – the main idea.»
In short, while success stories are commonly presented as being the result of strictly individual merit and effort, in practice, they are also the consequence of collective strategies and practices.
Collective Meritocracy
In a study titled ‘Successful Trajectories of Social Mobility in Contemporary Chile’, a group of COES researchers investigated the experiences and subjectivities of individuals with upward social mobility. The project collected over 300 interviews, including men and women in professional and managerial positions, members of indigenous communities, and those identifying with migrant communities. At first glance, and with varying intensities and nuances, the narratives reveal individuals who have some attachment to meritocratic ideals. Stories emphasizing effort, merit, talent, perseverance, and specific skills that have allowed them to «get ahead in life» are frequent. Viewed in this way, it might seem that upward social mobility trajectories are the result of purely individual processes.
However, upon deeper analysis, we have also uncovered that changes in social positions are not solely the consequence of personal work and effort. Equally importantly, if not more so, they are the collective efforts woven throughout one’s life. From this angle, social mobility appears as an overwhelmingly collective process in which, usually, the family is the initial source of support.
Manuel (40), now a university professor, exemplifies this. His father drove a taxi, and his mother was primarily a homemaker. Reflecting on his trajectory, he notes that «in the end, the enterprise of jumping the hurdles is very much a collective family one.» Without a committed family, he reflects, «there wouldn’t be the support I think I had, which allowed me to dream a little.»
Alongside this support, there are other forms of assistance from key networks and individuals: the wise counsel and encouragement of a teacher during school years, a network of friends or classmates who support and recognize each other, a university professor who helps secure the first job, or the guidance of a mentor who steers the career of those just starting out or unfamiliar with the codes of their new field.
Sergio (32), for example, studied law at a prestigious university. One of the factors he identifies as crucial to his successful trajectory is that, toward the end of his studies, he was «lucky to find two good mentors.» Both professors, he says, believed in him and guided him in facing workplace challenges, such as how to handle job interviews or to prepare for meetings.
These varied experiences suggest that, in the absence of stronger institutional support, it is informal bonds and networks that pave the way for social mobility. Moreover, it is evident that successful mobility experiences thrive best where institutional frameworks and solidarity ties intersect. Thus, meritocratic discourses based on individual effort and responsibility are challenged by processes that, in practice, require both solidarity and mutual recognition.
Conclusion
In societies like Chile, marked by significant levels of inequality, the idea of merit has served to justify social differences. Effort, responsibility, perseverance, and individual talent are essential parts of a narrative that seeks to explain the «success» of some and the «failure» of others. From an early age and throughout people’s lives, these ideas are internalized as fundamental principles. In this article, we have argued that at least two aspects challenge the scope of merit in its individualistic form.
On one hand, those from less privileged sectors of society, despite their efforts, encounter various obstacles at different stages of their lives that hinder, limit, or outright prevent upward mobility. On the other hand, those who do rise do so not only through individual effort but, above all, because they are not alone in the process.
We therefore believe it is crucial for society as a whole to foster different forms of solidarity and collective support that allow dreams and aspirations for advancement to become a reality.
