Someone who holds nothing as sacred, holy, untouchable or better than anything else. All things are equal.
Some things are more equal than others.
Most noticeable the institution of being British. Specifically that bastion of Britishness the "Gentleman" (sometimes known as the 'Chap', and in scientific circles present in the form of the 'Boffin').
There have been many famous examples of this strange breed of man. Alas many have met a terrible end most in similar circumstances as the famous afternoon tea scene in 'Carry on up the Khyber' (too preoccupied with a good cup of 'Brown Joy' to save ones own throat).
A perfect example of the 'Boffin' Type would is easy enough to find. Below are Alan Turing (code breaker during WWII and forerunner in computing technology and AI) and Sir Barnes Wallace (inventor of the bouncing bomb, earthquake bombs and forerunner of the use of geodesic design in aircraft).
For the more common (although not as common as they should be in this great and wonderful isle) 'Chap' look no further than the pages of the monthly publication by the same name.
The Chap takes a wry look at the modern world through the steamed-up monocle of a more refined age, occasionally getting its sock suspenders into a twist at the unspeakable vulgarity of the twenty-first century.
Since 1999, the Chap has been championing the rights of that increasingly marginalised and discredited species of Englishman - the gentleman. The Chap believes that a society without courteous behaviour and proper headwear is a society on the brink of moral and sartorial collapse, and it seeks to reinstate such outmoded but indispensable gestures as hat doffing, giving up one's seat to a lady and regularly using a trouser press.
Here however is a modern 'Gentlemen' who appears to me what this modern era demands of us true Brits. A fusing of both these modern times, a lost golden era and the mislaid hopes and dreams of what this bright future should have been like.
I present to you the lyrical genius of Professor Elemental;
I am now off to make another cup of 'Brown Joy' and smoke my pipe whilst dreaming steam fuelled visions of Victoria's empire rising again. I still find it hard to believe that the world bows down to those ruffians from the colonies.