Over the past two decades privilege theory has become the dominant theme in anti-racism education. In many ways it has become the only theme. White privilege is called upon to explain historical and current inequality, but also, crucially, as an antidote to inequality. During this time, privilege theory has been set against the traditional 20th century approach to anti-racism, loosely known as the colorblind model.
But, what if privilege theory and the color-blind model are not two concepts in stark opposition? What if each actually complements the other? What if engaging in both, simultaneously can open up new opportunities in anti-racism pedagogy?
In general, conservatives have taken a not-especially nuanced view of “white privilege.” First described by Peggy McIntosh in the late 1980s, white privilege basically describes somewhat hidden advantages that white people in our society enjoy, that they did not earn. It absolutely describes an actual phenomenon. Her most basic examples ring true. White people do see themselves represented more often in our culture and history, and rarely are the only person who looks the way they do in rooms where power exists.
There is real value in considering the fact that people might treat you with more respect and dignity based on your skin color. As a piece of diagnosis, privilege theory isn’t nearly as pernicious as conservatives tend to believe. Where privilege theory has gone off the rails, however, is in its attempts to cure the problems it describes.
One word that does not appear in McIntosh’s 1989 essay is “confess”—as in, the progressive mantra of “confessing one’s privilege.” McIntosh uses the term “acknowledge,” instead. The concept of confession is a late-stage addition to privilege theory and is—rightfully—reviled by those on the Right.
Some of us may indeed have accrued unearned advantages as a result of white privilege. But we are also essentially blameless in receiving such privileges. There are advantages to being born to an intact, two-parent family; or to an intact family with an annual income over $100,000. There are advantages to being born without a learning disability, or with spectacularly good teeth. There are advantages to being tall or having a high IQ.
But in no other realm are people supposed to “confess” the possession of such unearned advantages. A good person living a well-examined life merely acknowledge such blessings, is grateful for them, and tries to be ever-mindful that they are not universally bestowed. Why should race be different?
This is where the colorblind model comes into play. Consider a recent example from the University of Pennsylvania. A teaching assistant grad there tweeted that during class she only calls on people of color and women, instead of white men to participate. A storm of fury commenced from both sides. Depending on which corner you root for, this was either racism directed against whites or the enhancement of marginalized voices. But let’s break the situation down a bit.
The teacher at Penn was using a technique called a “progressive stack.” This methodology was first popularized at the General Assembly of Occupy Wall Street, the basic idea being that the most oppressed people should speak first, and have their speech valued more than those who occupy a space of power. Its an attempt to combat privilege by redistributing privilege.
But of course, the real root problem is that anyone’s speech is privileged on the basis of race in the first place.
This gets to the not-especially nuanced opposition to the colorblind model on the Left. At its silliest it imagines white people pretending that they literally do not see the color of a person’s skin, like George Costanza, in search of a black friend, claiming he doesn’t “really see people in terms of color.” But “color blind” doesn’t mean that you don’t see skin color. It means that you try not to make irrational judgements based on skin color.
The incident at Penn is a perfect opportunity to explore how the privilege and colorblind models can be used in concert to better reinforce anti-racism. Instead of creating a system in which black students’ speech is valued above white students’ speech, a conversation could have happened. The teacher could have said, “most of us, including me, sometimes have irrational biases. We are used to white men being in authority and we sometimes overvalue their speech. Let’s make an effort in this class to not let that happen.”
This would have given agency to the students to police their own thoughts. They could say to themselves; “am I being dismissive of a certain idea because it comes from a person of color, or a woman?” These are good things for us to think about.
Now, progressives arguing in good-faith might say that such a measure couldn’t work, because racism is not a matter of individual bias, but rather of systemic discrimination. But even if you grant the notion of systemic racism, we’d still be better off using the privilege model for diagnosis and the color-blind model as the cure.
Why? Because if racism is essentially systemic, and not a matter of individual bias, then surely, those of us who make an active choice to challenge our biases are in a better position to fix the systems.
What clearly emerges when we understand the advantages and limitations of privilege theory and the color-blind model is that, despite what we might assume, they complement each other. At a time when racial disharmony is so prevalent, we should look hard at the solutions offered by both progressives and conservatives.
This isn’t a war—at least it shouldn’t be. It should be a conversation.
David Marcus is a senior contributor to the Federalist and lives in Brooklyn.
