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The Gilded Age Season 4: Is History Repeating Itself?
Persona #4 · Vol: 2000
The opulent drawing rooms of “The Gilded Age” are set to return, and the timing couldn't be more unsettling. HBO has confirmed a fourth season of Julian Fellowes' lavish drama, a show that meticulously chronicles the ruthless power struggles, astronomical wealth gaps, and social upheaval of 1880s New York. But for those of us paying close attention, this isn't just a period piece. It's a mirror. And the reflection staring back at us is deeply, profoundly uncomfortable.
On the surface, “The Gilded Age” is a feast of corsets, carriages, and catty one-liners. We watch old-money aristocrats like Agnes van Rhijn clutch their pearls as new-money upstarts like Bertha Russell bulldoze their way into high society. We root for Marian Brook, the penniless ingenue navigating a world where a good marriage is the only viable career path. It's Downton Abbey with a Manhattan zip code, a delicious escape into a world of excess we can safely judge from our couches.
But strip away the velvet and the vintage Tiffany glass, and you'll find a blueprint for our current moment. The robber barons of the 19th century—the Vanderbilts, the Rockefellers, the Carnegies—amassed fortunes that made kings look like paupers. They bought politicians, crushed unions, and built private fiefdoms while their workers toiled in squalor for pennies. They were the original one percent, the architects of a system designed to keep the money flowing upward.
Sound familiar?
The show's genius lies in its refusal to be a simple morality tale. It doesn't just condemn the Bertha Russells of the world; it makes us understand them. We see the hunger, the desperate need to prove oneself in a society that prizes pedigree above all else. We watch as the old guard, the van Rhijns and the Astors, try desperately to pull up the ladder behind them, only to find that money, when wielded with enough ruthlessness, always wins. It's a story of disruption, of unseemly ambition, of an establishment that is rotten at its core and too arrogant to see its own obsolescence.
This is where the dots connect. We are living through a second Gilded Age. The last four decades have seen a staggering concentration of wealth not witnessed since the 1890s. Our tech billionaires are the new robber barons, their sprawling compounds and private space programs the modern equivalent of a Fifth Avenue mansion or a Newport "cottage." They meddle in elections, shape public discourse through media empires both old and new, and operate under a code of noblesse oblige that is as performative as Bertha's charity galas.
The social battles of the 1880s are our battles, too. The show subtly weaves in the Great Migration, the rise of organized labor, and the fierce fight for women's access to power—not through the ballot box (not yet), but through influence, intellect, and sheer force of will. Characters like Peggy Scott, a Black writer navigating a world that wants to pigeonhole her, and Ada Brook, who finds unexpected autonomy through a late-in-life inheritance, are not just historical footnotes. They are prototypes for the ongoing American struggle for equity and representation.
“The Gilded Age” isn't just a nostalgic romp. It's a warning siren. It shows us a society where the gap between the haves and have-nots grew so vast that it fractured the nation, leading to the populist revolts and labor unrest that would eventually force the creation of a middle class. It shows us that when the elite become too detached, too greedy, and too convinced of their own divine right to rule, they inevitably sow the seeds of their own destruction.
So, as we prepare to return to the ballrooms of 1880s New York, we should ask ourselves: Which character are we? Are we the oblivious aristocrat, clinging to a past that no longer serves us? Are we the ruthless striver, willing to trample anyone to get to the top? Or are we the quiet observer, documenting the circus, hoping that history won't repeat itself, but secretly knowing that it almost always does.
**The final truth:** We are not