Given Jacoby's observation that the world is actually becoming less diverse, why do people nonetheless fixate on diversity? A lot of reasons.
One reason, of course, is that race and ethnicity are still correlated with socioeconomic class, and there are good reasons to want to do something about that. There's now just enough racial and ethnic diversity in the world of the upper-middle class that we can't ignore the fact that other groups exist, but not enough to declare problems solved.
Another is probably romanticism. Other groups aren't actually that different, both because of the declining diversity of practices in this world and the ever-present universality of human nature. Nonetheless, historically there has been enough variation in practices between groups that we find it fascinating. Somehow this always manifests as ethnic dance troupes, probably because it's the sort of thing that can easily co-exist with Little League: People gather in gyms to engage in physical activity with adult supervision on Saturday morning. More seriously, it's very visual and exciting, and invigorating for those who do it.
A side interest of mine is language, and people understandably lament the death of languages. I'm not interested in persuading people to hang on to dialects that will act as walls between them and neighbors, but I do hope that languages are at least documented before they die. There's a lot of history encoded in languages, because the distribution of a language tells you something about past migrations. But my interest is in recording the past, not freezing the present into the mold of the past. Frankly, it's a GOOD thing that people in remote villages can speak the same languages as the judges and officials appointed by rulers in the capital city.
Finally, while a more uniform world means more people interacting and sharing the same experiences, we humans remain a tribal species. We instinctively look with caution upon those we see as outsiders, and now we're suddenly able to encounter them because of global trade, standardized languages, etc. There are people who are only alive today because they successfully ascertained whether the stranger looking at them funny was a Catholic or a Protestant, a Hutu or a Tutsi, a Sunni or a Shia, a Serb or a Croat. This makes us attuned to tribal markers. Yet we have to interact in this global marketplace where cheap travel and rapid migration of workers bring us into contact with people bearing different tribal markers like skin tone, facial features, and hair. No, they aren't infallible predictors of ancestry, as there's huge diversity within groups, but still, some patterns do manifest more often than not. More importantly, whether or not we SHOULD react to those patterns, the masked gunmen at the checkpoint often DO react to those patterns, making our ability to anticipate their reactions a deep-rooted instinct.
Sure, a corporate office today doesn't usually have masked gunmen at checkpoints. (The Security Professionals at the metal detector wear uniforms and show their faces while providing excellent customer service. :) But we're all descended from people who survived by quickly identifying and steering clear of people from other tribes when relations switched from trade to warfare, so as soon as we look at people we take note of their backgrounds.
Go ahead and deny it if you must, insist that YOU don't see these things, but everyone else does. Bigots note difference disapprovingly, warm and fuzzy people note diversity approvingly, and everyone else at least notes it as an adjective to file away in their mental lists. When I'm learning names and faces in a large group, ethnicity helps me take mental shortcuts to remember. I'm probably not supposed to admit that, but it's just a fact. My worst nightmare would be to learn names in a room where everyone is the same race, the same gender, and same hair color.
OK, so we're noting difference. We can't avoid that. The question, then is what to do about that. Well, suppressing it won't work. People will just note it even more, and treat it a a forbidden fruit. But that doesn't mean we need to fixate on it. Just as we have instincts that note difference, we also have instincts that transcend difference, and those that transcend difference are, frankly, the nobler instincts.
For instance, we react with immediate affection to the face of a baby, no matter what color that baby is. People feel empathy for the lame and sick and elderly across color lines. Some of that is surely because the very young and very old members of neighboring tribes never took up arms against our ancestors' tribes, but doesn't change the fact that we have these relationships and affections in common with other tribes.
Also, people experience love and sexual attraction across tribal lines. We know that this phenomenon is widespread, even when interracial relationships aren't, because so many societies have worked so hard to enforce prohibitions on marrying across lines of color and tribe. If nobody felt an attraction across those lines, nobody else would bother to suppress it.
One of our species' greatest survival tools is trade, and that has always happened across tribal lines. It's what people have always defaulted to as soon as fighting stopped. We have conflicting attitudes toward outsiders, simultaneously fearing them and wanting to marry them, wanting to build a fortress to keep them away and build a trading port to gain from them. And trade simultaneously requires diversity (different economic parties having different comparative advantages), promotes it (there's always a greater variety of goods available when people can trade freely), and yet also erodes it (everyone can now enjoy the same things).
Storytelling is an instinct that crosses lines, and we are able to appreciate stories from other cultures. The main reason Disney is making characters with a greater range of colors and ethnicities is that the basic tropes (heroes and villains, princes/princesses and paupers, etc.) transcend race and ethnicity. Little kids want movies with knights and princesses who look like them, but do the same things as every other knight or princess.
Religion is a human phenomenon that some modern thinkers would denounce, but it's an undeniably powerful and widespread phenomenon. For all the evil that has been done in the name of God, a lot of good has also been done in His name, and many religions cross lines of color. Malcolm X softened his opinion of white people when he was in Mecca praying next to white people. Christianity has spread around the globe, bringing out the best (and worst) in people everywhere. I mean, Koreans are some of the most devout Protestants around, and Filipinos are as Catholic as Catholics can be, and both countries are very far (both in distance and culture) from the places where Christianity was founded and grown.
Our conflicting instincts, universal and tribal, noble and feral, are in all of us. The implicit bias trainers are right to note that we can never fully escape from our responses to difference, but that doesn't mean we need to fixate on it. I'm more likely to connect with somebody by talking about what we have in common than by achieving enlightenment about the profound importance of difference. This doesn't mean that we should never talk about difference and diversity, but I think we'll get farther with common humanity.
Sunday, March 22, 2020
Thoughts on Russell Jacoby's "On Diversity"
I'm part-way into chapter 4. After laying out a broad picture in chapter 1, chapter 2 is largely about the homogenization of the modern world, with fashion being a particularly illustrative focal point. Besides the obvious fact that many people around the world have adopted Western attire, Jacoby also notes that within the confines of Western fashion the visual differences between rich and poor have become more subtle, at least in day-to-day attire. That's not to say that some clothes aren't more expensive than others, but if you aren't a fashionista and you're looking from a distance, the difference between an expensive pair of slacks and a cheap pair may not be obvious. On the other hand, the finery of an earlier era was often more ostentatious.
Jacoby notes ways in which both the left and right have lamented decried sartorial homogeneity. Conservatives of the modern era may be cautious about saying this out loud (and may not even believe it anymore, in many cases) but in an earlier era there were people who decried commoners looking like their "betters." (In the present, I suspect that conservatives willing to decry modern fashion would lambast the poor for NOT dressing as respectably as their successful "betters.") Likewise, many leftists lamented that with fashion gaps closing between rich and poor the poor were going to feel less solidarity with each other.
Chapter 3 is about childhood and how children spend less time on spontaneous, unorganized play and more time in either structured activities or indoor amusements. This is hardly a novel observation, and some of this is no doubt a function of class (one sees more kids outside in working-class neighborhoods), but he made two interesting points:
1) This was going on even a century ago, when sociologists went and studied children's games and found that over the decades there was less variation in the rules of games played on streets. Whereas kids improvised more of their own rules in earlier eras, as time went on more homogeneity set in, even when kids were playing without adult supervision. I suspect that mass media promotion of professional sports inspired more homogeneous rules. Formal schooling with gym classes may also play a role.
2) Though the phenomenon of suburban parents spending the entire weekend sitting in various parks and gyms watching kids in organized sports may be more or less modern (at least as a large scale thing), people were noting and lamenting the onset of this phenomenon several decades ago. Adults and leagues impose more uniformity on childhood rites of passage.
Chapter 4 (which I'm only part-way through) is about the concept of diversity throughout the ages. He notes the many thinkers who spoke approvingly of diversity, of the right of individuals to differ. But he also notes the efforts to standardize weights and measures in the interests of trade, to standardize national languages and assimilate speakers of local dialects, etc. I don't know that we lose much culturally if everyone measures weighs grain in the same units, but commercial standards enable people to join a global economy, and also enable the global economy to enter the local village.
Cultural and technological innovations spreading across the world is hardly a new thing. Wheat was domesticated in the Middle East, the horse was probably domesticated in the steppes of Eurasia, and the wheel was invented in the Middle East, but these things quickly spread around the world, and even entered into religions. Writing originated in a handful of places, but religions based on holy books came to supplant religions based on oral traditions.
Still, what is new is the extent to which everyday life becomes similar around the world. We're actually becoming less diverse, not more diverse. However, we talk so much about diversity because we're bringing more people under this common umbrella, which means that we sometimes encounter a wider range of skin tones, facial features, hair types, etc. in our standard-issue malls, recreational sports leagues, chain restaurants, and corporate employers.
(Never mind that even today, the lower economic classes continue to live in neighborhoods that often have more small businesses than comfortable suburbanites sometimes realize, perhaps because catering to low-income consumers is something that not every large company wants to pursue, whereas everyone loves to go for affluent consumers.)
My next post will deal with the implications of this.
Jacoby notes ways in which both the left and right have lamented decried sartorial homogeneity. Conservatives of the modern era may be cautious about saying this out loud (and may not even believe it anymore, in many cases) but in an earlier era there were people who decried commoners looking like their "betters." (In the present, I suspect that conservatives willing to decry modern fashion would lambast the poor for NOT dressing as respectably as their successful "betters.") Likewise, many leftists lamented that with fashion gaps closing between rich and poor the poor were going to feel less solidarity with each other.
Chapter 3 is about childhood and how children spend less time on spontaneous, unorganized play and more time in either structured activities or indoor amusements. This is hardly a novel observation, and some of this is no doubt a function of class (one sees more kids outside in working-class neighborhoods), but he made two interesting points:
1) This was going on even a century ago, when sociologists went and studied children's games and found that over the decades there was less variation in the rules of games played on streets. Whereas kids improvised more of their own rules in earlier eras, as time went on more homogeneity set in, even when kids were playing without adult supervision. I suspect that mass media promotion of professional sports inspired more homogeneous rules. Formal schooling with gym classes may also play a role.
2) Though the phenomenon of suburban parents spending the entire weekend sitting in various parks and gyms watching kids in organized sports may be more or less modern (at least as a large scale thing), people were noting and lamenting the onset of this phenomenon several decades ago. Adults and leagues impose more uniformity on childhood rites of passage.
Chapter 4 (which I'm only part-way through) is about the concept of diversity throughout the ages. He notes the many thinkers who spoke approvingly of diversity, of the right of individuals to differ. But he also notes the efforts to standardize weights and measures in the interests of trade, to standardize national languages and assimilate speakers of local dialects, etc. I don't know that we lose much culturally if everyone measures weighs grain in the same units, but commercial standards enable people to join a global economy, and also enable the global economy to enter the local village.
Cultural and technological innovations spreading across the world is hardly a new thing. Wheat was domesticated in the Middle East, the horse was probably domesticated in the steppes of Eurasia, and the wheel was invented in the Middle East, but these things quickly spread around the world, and even entered into religions. Writing originated in a handful of places, but religions based on holy books came to supplant religions based on oral traditions.
Still, what is new is the extent to which everyday life becomes similar around the world. We're actually becoming less diverse, not more diverse. However, we talk so much about diversity because we're bringing more people under this common umbrella, which means that we sometimes encounter a wider range of skin tones, facial features, hair types, etc. in our standard-issue malls, recreational sports leagues, chain restaurants, and corporate employers.
(Never mind that even today, the lower economic classes continue to live in neighborhoods that often have more small businesses than comfortable suburbanites sometimes realize, perhaps because catering to low-income consumers is something that not every large company wants to pursue, whereas everyone loves to go for affluent consumers.)
My next post will deal with the implications of this.
Tuesday, March 17, 2020
Next read: On Diversity by Russell Jacoby.
My next book blogging project will be On Diversity: The Eclipse of the Individual in a Global Era by UCLA historian Russell Jacoby. I'd read a few things since the previous project, including the controversial American Dirt (enjoyed it a lot, I guess I'm evil) and Rushdie's Satanic Verses (never really grabbed me, but I was stubborn enough to finish it). Now I'm starting another 180 page popular book on the problems with diversity politics. I guess I'm a sucker.
Only a few pages in, but I appreciate some insights. For instance, on page 6 he notes that despite the talk of difference, people mostly want inclusion and assimilation. Calls for diverse hiring, diverse casting in the arts, etc. are calls for inclusion in the mainstream. He contrasts with some ethnically distinct groups who maintain pretty substantial social and even linguistic separation from the mainstream, while adhering to decidedly unique cultural and ethical perspectives: The Amish and Hasidic Jews. There are no activists demanding that corporations hire Amish people. (Well, there's probably one, because in a big weird world there's always one, but there certainly aren't a lot.) They genuinely want to be different, so they don't demand to be included in the diverse rainbow of people all doing the same things in the mainstream.
None of this is to say that if it's OK to not hire Amish software engineers then it's OK to not hire whoever else. Jacoby makes that clear. But just as we shouldn't discriminate on the basis of identity, we don't necessarily need to go around insisting on the value of diversity in order to insist on treating people ethically. A rainbow of skin hues may not actually improve the outcome of whatever group effort, but that's no reason to not give everyone a fair shake regardless of skin hue. People should be given fair treatment because they are people with basic human dignity, not because a melanin balance allegedly benefits everyone else via cultural enrichment (that will happen on its own, with or without initiatives, as evidenced by the great interplay of artistic styles in our world) or because Studies Have Shown that diverse groups allegedly boost the corporate bottom line. A person could be a mediocre worker and still deserve decent treatment and basic human dignity (while hopefully finding a better niche in the job market, eventually).
Jacoby also acknowledges how fraught it is to critique diversity politics in an era where our head of state refers to Nazis and Klansmen as "very fine people." However, he says (page 8):
Only a few pages in, but I appreciate some insights. For instance, on page 6 he notes that despite the talk of difference, people mostly want inclusion and assimilation. Calls for diverse hiring, diverse casting in the arts, etc. are calls for inclusion in the mainstream. He contrasts with some ethnically distinct groups who maintain pretty substantial social and even linguistic separation from the mainstream, while adhering to decidedly unique cultural and ethical perspectives: The Amish and Hasidic Jews. There are no activists demanding that corporations hire Amish people. (Well, there's probably one, because in a big weird world there's always one, but there certainly aren't a lot.) They genuinely want to be different, so they don't demand to be included in the diverse rainbow of people all doing the same things in the mainstream.
None of this is to say that if it's OK to not hire Amish software engineers then it's OK to not hire whoever else. Jacoby makes that clear. But just as we shouldn't discriminate on the basis of identity, we don't necessarily need to go around insisting on the value of diversity in order to insist on treating people ethically. A rainbow of skin hues may not actually improve the outcome of whatever group effort, but that's no reason to not give everyone a fair shake regardless of skin hue. People should be given fair treatment because they are people with basic human dignity, not because a melanin balance allegedly benefits everyone else via cultural enrichment (that will happen on its own, with or without initiatives, as evidenced by the great interplay of artistic styles in our world) or because Studies Have Shown that diverse groups allegedly boost the corporate bottom line. A person could be a mediocre worker and still deserve decent treatment and basic human dignity (while hopefully finding a better niche in the job market, eventually).
Jacoby also acknowledges how fraught it is to critique diversity politics in an era where our head of state refers to Nazis and Klansmen as "very fine people." However, he says (page 8):
My object, in any event, is not to criticize the jargon of diversity for something worse, but for something better. To understand what renders diversity ideological is to understand what devitalizes it, an endeavor to realize, not junk it.I look forward to seeing how he does that.
Sunday, February 23, 2020
Caldwell, cont.
By the standards of 279-page popular-audience books written by conservatives, Caldwell is not too bad. (That's not much praise.) In the chapter on gender issues, whatever its flaws, he concedes a lot in places. For instance, he makes a point that had not previously occurred to me: The GI Bill, for all the good it did for America, also temporarily set back gender equity in higher ed via a massive influx of men (WWII vets). Women had been growing as a share of college students for a few decades, but the GI Bill re-adjusted the balance, setting back the trends of institutions learning to accommodate women.
More promisingly, he admits that Ronald Reagan drove the debt sky-high, and that the Laffer Curve is a flawed concept. He even concedes that the 1980's, during which Boomers were all over the workforce and America could have been saving lots of money, were a giant missed opportunity for fiscal policy.
And then he screws it all up by saying that Reagan's debts bought America social peace via domestic redistribution programs.
Yes, that was part of the budget in the 1980's, but the military was an even bigger part. And it's the part that Reagan worked hardest to expand. I will grant that Reagan avoided "guns vs butter" trade-offs, but let's not kid ourselves about which side was larger.
Some might argue that Reagan did for Johnson what many presidents have done for predecessors of the opposite party, declining to substantially reverse signature policies (i.e. Johnson's Great Society), but the ratification of the Great Society happened under Nixon and Ford; it was a fait accompli by the time of Reagan.
More promisingly, he admits that Ronald Reagan drove the debt sky-high, and that the Laffer Curve is a flawed concept. He even concedes that the 1980's, during which Boomers were all over the workforce and America could have been saving lots of money, were a giant missed opportunity for fiscal policy.
And then he screws it all up by saying that Reagan's debts bought America social peace via domestic redistribution programs.
Yes, that was part of the budget in the 1980's, but the military was an even bigger part. And it's the part that Reagan worked hardest to expand. I will grant that Reagan avoided "guns vs butter" trade-offs, but let's not kid ourselves about which side was larger.
Some might argue that Reagan did for Johnson what many presidents have done for predecessors of the opposite party, declining to substantially reverse signature policies (i.e. Johnson's Great Society), but the ratification of the Great Society happened under Nixon and Ford; it was a fait accompli by the time of Reagan.
Saturday, February 22, 2020
Another take on racism and the American constitutional system
I forgot to link to this article, arguing that "limited government" arguments in America are doomed by their historic association with racists. The argument is somewhat different in tone than Caldwell's, reproaching the right from a position of sympathy, but reproaching nonetheless.
Next book: Age of Entitlement by Christopher Caldwell
I've decided to read The Age of Entitlement by Christopher Caldwell. It proposes to explain (from a decidedly right-wing viewpoint) America's current divisions in terms of what happened in the 60's. I have enjoyed Rick Perlstein's hefty journalistic history of the emergence of America's current right-wing coalition in terms of the 1960's, so I suppose it's only fair to look at a view from the other side. (Though Caldwell's take is decidedly polemical rather than documentary.)
I'm two chapters in, and one point leaps out: Caldwell forcefully asserts (while skimping on citations) that desegregation required bad legal work (particularly Brown vs. Board of Education) and violated freedom of association. To the second point, well, from some viewpoint that is definitionally correct: Business owners were not allowed to refuse to associate with people on the basis of race. On the first point, though, I will say that to whatever extent he's right (and he provides relatively little evidence for his assertions) it increases my sympathy for the guilty liberal stance.
The version of US history that I was taught emphasized that the Civil Rights Movement was about making America live up to its promise, striking down laws that were inconsistent with America's most deeply-rooted principles. Seen in that light, the court rulings that had buttressed segregation (e.g. Plessy vs. Ferguson) were violations (at least in spirit, if not in letter) of the post-Civil War amendments. However, if Caldwell is correct, and if a smart lawyer would have to concede the permissibility (and perhaps even appropriateness) of segregation law under our Constitutional arrangements, then our system is much harder to celebrate. Yes, every system of laws is ultimately built upon enforcement by violence, and hence lends itself to terrible things, but in the best case that violence is undertaken to fend off something worse. The argument here is that something worse is enshrined in the system, and not just in the Constitutional provisions rendered null after the end of slavery.
In that case, a smart lawyer might feel a deep sense of shame, as Shelby Steele discussed, and out of that shame feel conflicted about the system that they are supposed to work within. It makes sense that upper-class liberals (a social segment where lawyers are abundant) might be overcome by guilt. Yes, they can deny it, singing the praises of Brown vs. Board of Education (and similar rulings) as consistent with the spirit of our Constitutional system, but if Caldwell is correct, then deep down they must believe it to be a lie.
To whatever extent Caldwell is correct, conflicted emotions are the only appropriate emotions for a well-educated liberal who is immersed in the system. The restlessness of our elites makes sense.
Mind you, I'm far from convinced that Caldwell (and by extension a guilt-ridden elite class) is correct. Too many people (of all skin tones) have worked too hard to extend the promises of American ideals to all Americans. In the greatest tests of federal authority (the Civil War and Southern defiance of desegregation rulings a century later) the federal government was on the side of African Americans and the rebels were on the side of racists. At a minimum, the Confederates believed that their cause had no sure footing in the American system; that's why they left. The Union cause was hardly staffed with people whose racial opinions would pass any of today's standards, but it was still the less racist of the two sides, and it accomplished things that made America better. That has to mean something.
Of course, the greatest betrayal of African Americans was arguably the end of the military occupation of the South under Rutherford B. Hayes. I will not defend the abandonment of African Americans, but I will say that I can forgive fallible humans who decided to end a military occupation after more than a decade. Military occupations are terrible things, and while the social situation that came afterward was even worse, as a citizen of a country currently involved in military occupations, I get it. Also, it is telling that what ultimately brought down that system of segregation was not a second military occupation (though federal troops did enforce a few court orders) but the mobilization of Christians for the greatest display of non-violence in American history. It is terrible that America waited so long to end this, but it is telling that it took something far more radical and Christian than a military intervention to do it, and the magnitude of the task is revealed by the fact that it took the most gifted orator and most profound Christian thinker in American history to lead that effort.
Then again, the fact that the magnitude of the task required our greatest orator and Christian thinker perhaps points to the severity of the rot in our culture.
Anyway, Caldwell is not necessarily making the point that he intended. Let's see how this unfolds.
I'm two chapters in, and one point leaps out: Caldwell forcefully asserts (while skimping on citations) that desegregation required bad legal work (particularly Brown vs. Board of Education) and violated freedom of association. To the second point, well, from some viewpoint that is definitionally correct: Business owners were not allowed to refuse to associate with people on the basis of race. On the first point, though, I will say that to whatever extent he's right (and he provides relatively little evidence for his assertions) it increases my sympathy for the guilty liberal stance.
The version of US history that I was taught emphasized that the Civil Rights Movement was about making America live up to its promise, striking down laws that were inconsistent with America's most deeply-rooted principles. Seen in that light, the court rulings that had buttressed segregation (e.g. Plessy vs. Ferguson) were violations (at least in spirit, if not in letter) of the post-Civil War amendments. However, if Caldwell is correct, and if a smart lawyer would have to concede the permissibility (and perhaps even appropriateness) of segregation law under our Constitutional arrangements, then our system is much harder to celebrate. Yes, every system of laws is ultimately built upon enforcement by violence, and hence lends itself to terrible things, but in the best case that violence is undertaken to fend off something worse. The argument here is that something worse is enshrined in the system, and not just in the Constitutional provisions rendered null after the end of slavery.
In that case, a smart lawyer might feel a deep sense of shame, as Shelby Steele discussed, and out of that shame feel conflicted about the system that they are supposed to work within. It makes sense that upper-class liberals (a social segment where lawyers are abundant) might be overcome by guilt. Yes, they can deny it, singing the praises of Brown vs. Board of Education (and similar rulings) as consistent with the spirit of our Constitutional system, but if Caldwell is correct, then deep down they must believe it to be a lie.
To whatever extent Caldwell is correct, conflicted emotions are the only appropriate emotions for a well-educated liberal who is immersed in the system. The restlessness of our elites makes sense.
Mind you, I'm far from convinced that Caldwell (and by extension a guilt-ridden elite class) is correct. Too many people (of all skin tones) have worked too hard to extend the promises of American ideals to all Americans. In the greatest tests of federal authority (the Civil War and Southern defiance of desegregation rulings a century later) the federal government was on the side of African Americans and the rebels were on the side of racists. At a minimum, the Confederates believed that their cause had no sure footing in the American system; that's why they left. The Union cause was hardly staffed with people whose racial opinions would pass any of today's standards, but it was still the less racist of the two sides, and it accomplished things that made America better. That has to mean something.
Of course, the greatest betrayal of African Americans was arguably the end of the military occupation of the South under Rutherford B. Hayes. I will not defend the abandonment of African Americans, but I will say that I can forgive fallible humans who decided to end a military occupation after more than a decade. Military occupations are terrible things, and while the social situation that came afterward was even worse, as a citizen of a country currently involved in military occupations, I get it. Also, it is telling that what ultimately brought down that system of segregation was not a second military occupation (though federal troops did enforce a few court orders) but the mobilization of Christians for the greatest display of non-violence in American history. It is terrible that America waited so long to end this, but it is telling that it took something far more radical and Christian than a military intervention to do it, and the magnitude of the task is revealed by the fact that it took the most gifted orator and most profound Christian thinker in American history to lead that effort.
Then again, the fact that the magnitude of the task required our greatest orator and Christian thinker perhaps points to the severity of the rot in our culture.
Anyway, Caldwell is not necessarily making the point that he intended. Let's see how this unfolds.
Friday, February 21, 2020
Latest book: 'A Dream Deferred' by Shelby Steele
I recently read A Dream Deferred by Shelby Steele, a book which argues that post-60's liberalism has focused on social policy as a means of redemption from shame. His basic thesis is that once white Americans fully came to grips with the enormity of America's racial crimes, they sought redemption and hence lowered standards for African-Americans. He critiques welfare and affirmative action, both of which have changed between 1998 (the publication date of his book) and 2020. Welfare is no longer the open-ended subsistence bestowed in the 1990's (Clinton and Gingrich passed welfare reform), and while diversity programs run as strong as ever, explicit quotas and set-asides are mostly gone. Implicit, hidden quotas, fudged evaluations, etc., all of these things still exist, more than ever. But good luck getting somebody to lay it out in a document that could be subpoenaed.
Steele says that this is all about white people seeking redemption from shame. He says that this is why educators lurch from one fad to another, because they desperately need to be seen doing something. It is less important that African Americans improve than that white people be seen trying. As a black conservative, he despises this, both for what it does to black people (it forces them into dependent roles so that white liberals can feel better) and for what it doesn't do (it doesn't actually raise performance). I think he over-simplifies somewhat, but that's inevitable in a book that's 180 pages. Either you should state your thesis in a more succinct essay, or write a tome of nuance and documentation. He's an excellent writer, and packs in as much nuance as 180 pages will allow (his prose is magnificent, and I doubt I could ever write an essay as good as his), but it's still light on documentation. (Then again, he came up as a literary scholar, not a social scientist.)
Lest you think he's too harsh on his own people, he has no shortage of praise for his culture. He praises areas of African-American endeavor, and argues that they have been most successful in areas (art, literature, music, entertainment, sports) where competition cannot be easily manipulated by do-gooders. Of course, reality is more complex than that, but he brings an important consideration to the table.
He keeps revisiting the point about unbearable shame, and I think that does explain the restlessness I see among educators. We have been told that we are THE solution to the unbearable shame, and when it doesn't puff us up with pride it fills us with desperation to fix something that we cannot fix on our own, neither for the benefit of the intended recipients (an underclass) nor the desperately guilty upper class. We can only do our part, but we need to be seen doing as much as possible, lest we be called to account by either the underclass (who will tell us we did too little) or the upper class (who will tell us that we failed to discharge the guilt that they transferred to us).
One thing I wonder about is why Germany doesn't display the same restlessness, despite having a terrible crime on their record. I suspect it's 4 things:
1) I'm too far removed to see it clearly.
2) The descendants of their victims mostly live elsewhere, so they don't need to discharge their debt via domestic social policy.
3) Their crime, as terrible as it was, was one episode in a much longer history, so it doesn't stain every single thing in the way that racism stains our entire history. (Indeed, their neighbors have plenty of pogroms on their own ledgers.)
4) After WWII they immediately confronted a new problem (division between two outside powers, and the oppression of half of their people by one of those powers) so they had a different set of considerations.
Anyway, I'm off to read some books that I'm currently not motivated to blog. Maybe that will change.
Steele says that this is all about white people seeking redemption from shame. He says that this is why educators lurch from one fad to another, because they desperately need to be seen doing something. It is less important that African Americans improve than that white people be seen trying. As a black conservative, he despises this, both for what it does to black people (it forces them into dependent roles so that white liberals can feel better) and for what it doesn't do (it doesn't actually raise performance). I think he over-simplifies somewhat, but that's inevitable in a book that's 180 pages. Either you should state your thesis in a more succinct essay, or write a tome of nuance and documentation. He's an excellent writer, and packs in as much nuance as 180 pages will allow (his prose is magnificent, and I doubt I could ever write an essay as good as his), but it's still light on documentation. (Then again, he came up as a literary scholar, not a social scientist.)
Lest you think he's too harsh on his own people, he has no shortage of praise for his culture. He praises areas of African-American endeavor, and argues that they have been most successful in areas (art, literature, music, entertainment, sports) where competition cannot be easily manipulated by do-gooders. Of course, reality is more complex than that, but he brings an important consideration to the table.
He keeps revisiting the point about unbearable shame, and I think that does explain the restlessness I see among educators. We have been told that we are THE solution to the unbearable shame, and when it doesn't puff us up with pride it fills us with desperation to fix something that we cannot fix on our own, neither for the benefit of the intended recipients (an underclass) nor the desperately guilty upper class. We can only do our part, but we need to be seen doing as much as possible, lest we be called to account by either the underclass (who will tell us we did too little) or the upper class (who will tell us that we failed to discharge the guilt that they transferred to us).
One thing I wonder about is why Germany doesn't display the same restlessness, despite having a terrible crime on their record. I suspect it's 4 things:
1) I'm too far removed to see it clearly.
2) The descendants of their victims mostly live elsewhere, so they don't need to discharge their debt via domestic social policy.
3) Their crime, as terrible as it was, was one episode in a much longer history, so it doesn't stain every single thing in the way that racism stains our entire history. (Indeed, their neighbors have plenty of pogroms on their own ledgers.)
4) After WWII they immediately confronted a new problem (division between two outside powers, and the oppression of half of their people by one of those powers) so they had a different set of considerations.
Anyway, I'm off to read some books that I'm currently not motivated to blog. Maybe that will change.
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