Democrats have started calling the wealthy “the Epstein Class,” a phrase that crops up in campaign rhetoric and cable TV soundbites. I took that label seriously enough to ask one of its leading users what he meant, and the exchange was telling. What follows is a straight take on that conversation and the political shape of this new insult.
The phrase has replaced “the 1%” in some progressive corners, swapping an economic gripe for something darker. It drags Jeffrey Epstein’s crimes into ordinary political argument as a way to demonize the rich. That shift matters because language shapes what voters see as legitimate targets.
I reached out to Rep. Ro Khanna to pin down who exactly lives in this so-called Epstein Class. I suggested a few names that often get tossed into anti-elite riffs: Elon Musk, George Soros, and Tom Steyer. I expected some finger-pointing, but what I got was evasive rhetoric dressed up as moral outrage.
“What the Epstein files revealed is a group of powerful and wealthy men more concerned with their status and networks than decency and humanity. They were fine viewing young girls that Epstein was abusing as dispensable in order to maintain their standing with Epstein and his friends. The callowness, vanity, and vacuity of this governing elite has led to a lopsided and unfair economy.”
I told Khanna his claim still looked like a dodge, and I pushed back on the broad brush. “I’m sure you can understand how this does not seem terribly dissimilar from conspiracy theorists alleging there’s a secret cabal controlling everything and turning the frogs gay,” I said. Political rhetoric that blends guilt-by-association with moral horror needs specifics, not posturing.
“It is symbolic for the network Epstein collected of a group of powerful and rich men who put their own needs above civic virtue and accountability,” he told me. “I am not alleging a secret cabal. I reject such conspiracy.”
Khanna tried to soften the worst implications while keeping the label intact. He shifted to a familiar line about wealth and political influence, invoking Citizens United as the mechanism that supposedly empowers this shadowy elite. His next words leaned hard on metaphor.
“Well, it’s an elite that has disproportionate political influence through their wealth because of Citizens United. More like a group of elite wielding disproportionate influence. Think of it like the economic royalists of our time.”
Read straight, that sounds like the same Occupy Wall Street playbook with a gruesome new adjective stuck on. Attaching Epstein’s name to a political faction without naming actual members turns a horrendous criminal scandal into an ideological bludgeon. That move risks cheapening the victims and corrosively widening political hatred.
It gets stranger because the label has migrated beyond the left. Some on the populist right now use “Epstein Class” to blame everything from foreign policy choices to cultural shifts. The phrase has become a one-size-fits-all explanation for political grievances, often deployed without a single concrete example.
For a serious inquiry into concentrated influence, voters deserve specifics: names, actions, and evidence of quid pro quo, not vague moralizing. Democrats who toss around the Epstein Class tag owe the public at least one clear example before they weaponize abuse and wealth into a new class warfare slogan. Otherwise it looks like theater, not accountability.
Until someone points to actual individuals and real connections, the Epstein Class functions as an attack on success and political opponents. That’s a dangerous direction for a country that should be sorting facts from fury heading into the midterms.
