Most editors are failed writers—but so are most writers.

The remark is a dry, self-correcting jab at a common stereotype: that editors are “failed writers” who turn to gatekeeping after artistic disappointment. By adding “but so are most writers,” the speaker widens the target from editors to the literary world at large, implying that failure (commercial, critical, or personal) is statistically normal in writing. The line also hints at Eliot’s broader sense of literary standards and selection: editors may be judged for rejecting work, but writers are equally subject to rejection and mediocrity. The humor depends on deflating professional hierarchies—editor versus author—by reminding readers that both roles operate under the same harsh odds of lasting success.