From a common person’s perspective, the elite class consists of a wide range of villains, heroes, and eccentrics. It is populated by individuals who, by virtue of superior intellect, talent, inheritance, criminal activity or plain luck, enjoy a privileged life. They have, by book, hook or crook, managed to position themselves beyond most of the everyday issues that confront the everyday man. Unless their line of work requires public relations of some sort, the upper crust of society occupies a space within a bubble.

Probably the most mysterious of the elites are the super rich — those who are often referred to these days as the “oligarchs.” It is almost impossible to imagine what occupies the mind of someone who can have just about anything they want. Surely they experience human foibles such as boredom, jealousy, anxiety, hatred, and unrequited (money-can’t-buy-me) love. But what really makes them tick?

For a pop star celebrity like Taylor Swift, the relationship with the public is both intimate and far removed. She is a generational talent, a prolific artist who has touched the hearts and minds of billions of folks, from pre-teens to adults. Her themes are deeply personal, yet have universal appeal in terms of vulnerability, resilience and moxie.

However, I wonder how much of the common, everyday girl/woman in her songs has become a distant memory. Is that old persona merely a part of her song writing formula now that she is a superstar?

Perhaps easier to understand are the elite professional athletes. These are the folks whose name, number and picture occupy the imaginations of ardent fans. In Buffalo, for example, many older Bills fans extol young Josh Allen as some kind of conqueror, the one who will finally lift the curse of 1991. Number 17 represents not only a majorly talented athlete, but also hope for a city that has endured economic hardships over the past half century.

There are elite bad guys in sports as well, and fans love to hate them. Yet despite the often irrational vitriol toward the “villain” in sports, it’s nothing compared to what’s going on today in the political arena.

Elite politicians are the biggest targets of public hatred, the recipients of the most widespread and contemptuous backlash. It seems to be our nature as citizens to be dissatisfied, to demand greener grass, and to seek out scapegoats and heroes alike. Listening to politicians, our reactions range from joyful optimism and hopefulness to disgust and contempt. While many of them mean well, it appears that the level of cynicism today is extremely high, and there is a palpable air of glibness and mean spirited-ness among elite government leaders.

I wonder about how the elite perceive us from their secluded places. Certainly the super rich don’t concern themselves much with the everyday trials and tribulations of regular people. They are too busy, too preoccupied with details. They have meetings to preside over, and investments to be made. Their understanding is that if more money is not being made-if the profit margin sags the slightest bit, if Wall Street is not working for them-then they are failing, and some competitor has the upper hand.

For athletes, there must be some disdain regarding the capricious nature of fandom. They are cheered one moment, booed the next. They witness the often ridiculous, repulsive behavior of overzealous fans. And celebrities of all kinds realize they can’t go out in public without being accosted, so they must protect their privacy lest bad things happen to their homes or possessions.

Of course all us commoners do not bear the same attitude toward the elite class. Not all sports fans are idol worshippers. Not all wish a curse upon the families of the opponents. Not all of us melt down when we see a beautiful pop star. While many of us see capitalism as a rigged system that causes environmental waste and social inequality, we are not pushing for a civil war.

Similarly, not all elite people bear the same attitude toward the common lot. They are not necessarily condescending toward us. They are not all ego-tripping or narcissistic. Some are real philanthropists. Some have family problems of their own — maybe a father in jail, a crazy drunk uncle, a sister on the streets, a handicapped brother who is well taken care of by common social workers.

Finally, I think most of us, common and elite alike, would agree that a person’s greatest quality has nothing to do with social class. It is more about what’s inside, about our ability and willingness to become better people, and to help make the world a kinder and cleaner place.

Pete Howard, author of Rosebud Dreamworld, lives in Dunkirk.