Trump, Implicit Bias, and the Dream of Racial Progress

“We have made progress in everything, yet nothing has changed” – Derrick Bell

Only eight short years ago, the United States elected its first Black president, and lo, the end of racism was heralded across the land. Commentators of all political stripes breathlessly reported the redemptive significance of Obama’s ascendance; the US had finally, once and for all, transcended its ugly racist past. Eight years later, that apple has certainly lost its luster. The deep and broad racial divisions revealed by the Obama presidency have thoroughly spoiled our post-racial happy ending. Thanks a lot Tea Party!

It is easy to see why rational people are willing to buy into the post-racial myth. Besides our longing to believe in racial progress, there is evidence for it. Surveys of white people have shown a steady drop in explicit racist sentiments since the 1960s. And, every time a racially charged incident occurs, remind ourselves of how far we’ve come. So, how are we to understand the Obama backlash? How did we end up electing as President of the United States an epically unqualified buffoon who built his political profile on reality TV and birther conspiracies and based his presidential campaign on stoking white racial fear and resentment?

Ironically, it appears that our investment in the story of racial progress may played a role. We white people seem to have been blind to the way racial attitudes have evolved until this seething undercurrent of racism erupted into the political sphere. Conventional surveys seem to have missed it, but researchers have known about it for decades. This unspoken form of racism is most commonly known as implicit racial bias, and is measured using the Implicit Association Test (IAT). The test has revealed that a striking 88 percent of white IAT participants show pro-white, or anti-black bias. Still, although this discovery was greeted with surprise, it has never been seen as a serious challenge to racial progress story. Indeed, it is often discussed as if it supports the racial progress story.

In the remainder of this piece, I outline three specific examples of how the discovery of implicit racial bias is framed as supporting rather than undermining the racial progress story. First, mainstream discussions tend to emphasize that implicit bias is unconscious without clarifying that, within cognitive science, the term does not mean hidden so much as overlooked. Second, racial bias is typically discussed as if it is a psychological remnant of past racism rather than a contemporary phenomenon with contemporary causes. Third, instead of asking what the prevalence of implicit racial bias might suggest about society at large, discussions typically treat it as simply a form of personal racism. These three interpretative strategies are mutually supporting, and together, allow us to sustain our belief in racial progress.

Implicit Bias and the Cognitive Unconscious

It is common to see the word unconscious substituted for implicit in mainstream reporting as well as in the scientific literature on implicit cognition. There is nothing wrong with this, per se, since the two words are technically synonymous. However, the word unconscious can be read as suggesting that our biases are harder to see than they are. Unlike the word implicit, which is unfamiliar to most non-specialists, the word unconscious, derived from psychoanalysis, has a rich history in popular culture. For the non-specialist, the word may imply that relevant mental content is inaccessible to our conscious minds. This can end up letting us off the hook from taking responsibility for our biases.

Popular writings about implicit racial bias tend to emphasize that most people renounce prejudice and are therefore shocked when they learn, usually via the IAT, that they harbor hidden racial biases. In their excellent book, Blindspot: Hidden Biases of Good People, Mahzarin Bajani and Anthony Greenwald affirm this trope in the title of their book. But the evidence does not quite justify it. Research only shows that associative memory works independently of explicit cognition, and therefore people can endorse egalitarian beliefs and be unaware that they also harbor negative racial associations. But not being aware of something does not make it hidden.

In the public imagination, unconscious often implies a shadowy realm of animalistic drives, shameful desires, and repressed memories. Thus conceived, the unconscious is so obscure that its murky depths can only be explored with the guidance of a professional. It is otherwise inaccessible to our conscious minds. For cognitive psychology, by contrast, the unconscious is relatively mundane. When cognitive psychologists talk about unconscious cognition, they are simply referring to the involuntary and automatic processes, such as framing effects, representativeness, and priming. Thus, when they describe a process as unconscious, they simply mean that its operation is not available to direct introspection. But just because a process is unobservable does not mean the products are. We are perfectly able to know that we hold negative racial stereotypes. We only need to notice them.

The real issue is that we white people have good reasons to deny our implicit biases, thanks in part to the racial progress story. The social stigma associated with racism is so powerful that even the Ku Klux Klan denies being racist. To become aware of a racist thought threatens our belief that we are decent people, creating cognitive dissonance. The mind tries to reduce this dissonance by reflexively pushing unwelcome thoughts out of awareness. We may tell ourselves that this is OK since we don’t believe our biases anyway. However, one of the most important findings of implicit bias research is that these stereotypes can affect our behavior whether or not we believe in them. In fact, the less awareness we have of them, the more vulnerable we are to their influence.

Implicit Bias as Residue

The commitment to racial progress in mainstream discussions also downplays implicit racial bias by portraying it as a remnant of an earlier era. Descriptions often refer to bias using words like “persistence” or “remains,” which suggest that it has no relationship to the present. The website for Teaching Tolerance describes implicit bias as “mental residue.” An article in Psychology Today argues that MRI results “explain why bias stubbornly persists even if our cultural mores tell us it’s wrong” (emphasis added). This language suggests that our racism is not really ours, as if it’s somehow left over from our grandparents. Moreover, the “residue” frame subtly implies that the move from conscious to unconscious is just a step on the path to extinction. In fact, implicit racial biases are a function of associative memory, and associative memory gets its content from our own direct life experiences.

It is uncomfortable to examine the source of our negative racial associations because it forces us to confront unpleasant truths. My own story is emblematic. I grew up in an all-white suburb of Youngstown, thanks to racist 20^th century housing policies. My school system was practically all white. My Boy Scout troop was all white. The employees and most of the customers at the supermarket where I worked were white. The shopping centers, restaurants, and nightclubs I frequented were essentially all white. Even the local university I attended, Youngstown State, was practically all white. I literally didn’t know a single people of color until I started my post college career.

In addition, from early childhood, I imbibed a steady stream of associations between blackness and criminality, blackness and poverty, blackness and violence, blackness and sports/entertainment. I encountered few associations between blackness and heroism, blackness and genius, or even blackness and middle-class ordinariness. Most of these negative associations came from TV and film. In real life, I lived in a safe, quiet, all-white neighborhood where I caught the school bus each weekday morning to attend a well-resourced school full of college-bound white kids. In school, I learned a white-washed history full of white heroes and villains, white geniuses, and white “regular folks.” Meanwhile, my direct experience taught me that there are good neighborhoods, like mine, and bad ones, where the schools fail to educate, crime and drugs are rampant, and black and brown folks kill each other over nothing. I mostly saw the latter on the nightly news, but I understood where these neighborhoods were in relation to my house. It’s hard to imagine coming out the other side of this without anti-black and pro-white biases.

Meanwhile I learned from television that racial prejudice is wrong and backward. Reasonable people like Phil Donahue and Michael Stivic rejected bigotry, while we all laughed at Archie Bunker. The story of racial progress was also being represented through the rising status of TV’s Black families. Good Times and Sanford and Son portrayed folks living in ghettos and struggling to keep it together. Then, on The Jeffersons, a working-class family moves on up to the owning-class, but brings their working-class sensibilities with them. Finally, on The Cosby Show, Black professional-class security and familial harmony was portrayed as ordinary and natural.

The ascent of the Black TV family was a positive influence on me, and I assume others, but it may have had an unintended consequence. The rise of the Black middle class on TV and in real life occurred at the same time the crack epidemic was ravaging inner-city Black communities and feeding a panic about Black crime. Political and media exploitation ensured that for every minute of Huxtable harmony on TV there was an hour of crack-related crime and consternation. I suspect that this duality contributed to the divergence of my own explicit and implicit racial attitudes. I’m probably not alone in being able to enjoy Black sitcoms and vote for a Black president while at the same time holding a cluster of implicit anti-black associations. These associations are not left over from my racist ancestors; they are simply products of growing up in this racist society.

Implicit Bias and Individual Psychology

Perhaps the most insidious way the racial progress story distorts our understanding of implicit bias is its inability to acknowledge the structural level of racism. For the racial progress story, structural racism is a thing of the past, and all that remains is individual bigotry and discrimination. This is why mainstream commentators have trouble explaining the racialized impact of voter ID laws, but they can’t get enough of Donald Sterling and Paula Deen. Indeed, implicit bias is useful for those pressing the racial progress narrative precisely because it seems to explain continued racial inequality without appealing to structural causes or widespread bigotry. Moreover, by classifying racial bias as a glitch in individual psychology, it can be framed as an isolated problem that can be remedied through training, medication, or a bias cleanse.

This excessive focus on individual bias is playing out in the police brutality controversies. Thanks to smart phones and social media, the white public is finally waking up to police violence in communities of color to the killing of unarmed Black men, in particular. Many observers attribute these killings to the racism of individual officers. The police strongly deny this. And since explicit racist intent is almost impossible to prove, such accusations usually go nowhere. The implicit bias approach, however, is being welcomed by the public as well as law enforcement agencies because it helps account for racial disparities in the use of force without assuming racist intent. In addition, it offers the promise of solving the problem with anti-bias training.

Unfortunately, structural questions are largely ignored because the racial progress narrative focuses our attention on individual psychology. But an understanding of the larger historical context, including the war on drugs and the cynical political calculations that launched it, is essential for grappling with police violence. In fact, to understand why communities of color are aggressively policed, we need to recall how these communities were created. These economically and racially isolated pockets of urban poverty are products of the federal government policies that subsidized the creation of white suburbs. While generations of white families were given a chance to accumulate wealth through home ownership, black and brown families were trapped in inner-cities, with failing schools, where their choices were limited to renting or being exploited by predatory lenders. When unemployment and hopelessness led to addiction and family decay, the public policy response was to “get tough on crime,” adding more police with more weapons and more ‘intrusive practices’. Given this structural reality, people of color are assured of suffering disproportionate police violence with or without racial bias.

Conclusion

For decades many independent lines of inquiry have pointed to the same disturbing conclusion: a cesspool of racist stereotypes & attitudes churns just beneath the surface of our post-racial good manners. Racism has certainly evolved since the days of public lynchings and legal apartheid. But the racial progress story obscures more than it reveals. While congratulating ourselves for using the same water fountains, we failed to notice when our implicit fears were channeled into the creation of a system of racialized mass incarceration on a scale unprecedented in human history. More recently we’ve been allowing a systematic attack on voting rights, based partly on racially charged claims of inner-city voter fraud. Now a megalomaniacal demagogue has been elected president despite (or because of) his willingness to foment explicit racial resentments and pal around with white supremacists. Old fashion racism is making a comeback. And no amount of implicit bias or diversity training is likely to stem this noxious tide.

The resilience of racism in the US is not the result of antiquated attitudes buried in the dusty corners of individual minds. It is not really about attitudes at all. Whether implicit or explicit, racist attitudes are outward symptoms of a deeper sickness. Racism, specifically white supremacy, infects white America’s collective identity at its core. This sickness produces not only our biases but also our denial. And it supports our conviction that we are steadily moving toward a multicultural utopia. In reality, the only way forward is back. We must grapple seriously with the nation’s historic atrocities and work to heal the wounds wrought by slavery, genocide, Jim Crow, the war on drugs, and the continuing legacies of colonialism and capitalism. Only by collectively acknowledging and repairing these historical harms can we achieve sustainable progress toward society with liberty and justice for everyone.  

Whiteness, Microaggressions, and the Threat to White Innocence

Barry Deutsch / CC BY 3.0

A recent article in the New York Times by Tanzina Vega entitled "Students See Many Slights as Racial ‘Microaggressions’" highlights a new movement intended to bring attention to the experiences of people of color interacting with supposedly non-racist white people. Initially, I was pleased to see the dominant media reporting on the issue of racial microaggressions, but I was quickly disappointed by Vega's attempt to offer a balanced take on this "trend." She purports to present both sides, but her superficial notion of balance, which is firmly rooted in whiteness, severely limits the article's potential to add anything useful to readers' understanding of the issue.  

The problem with this article is its unflinching commitment to the white racial frame, and specifically to its post-civil rights liberal offshoot, the diversity frame. According to the diversity frame, the relevant context for understanding microaggressions, as with all  race-related issues is difference, and specifically, difference from a largely unnamed norm of whiteness. Beginning with her implication that microaggressions are occurring as a result of "an increasingly diverse culture," to her closing with Henry Louis Gate's call for equal opportunity oppression, the overall moral picture she paints is of a world where racial differences are more or less neutral, and bear no larger historical or political significance. From the vantage point of Vega's diversity frame, it seems, microaggressions are being discussed now primarily because people from "diverse" groups are interacting with each other more frequently. There is no acknowledgement that microaggressions are actually about white people (consciously or not) perpetuating white cultural dominance.

After characterizing "microaggressions" as "the social justice word du jour" and describing the proliferation of blogs, facebook pages, academic papers, and student theater productions documenting the phenomenon,  she traces the term's popularity to Columbia psychology professor Derald W. Sue, author of an influential book on the topic. This would have been a great opportunity to get a clear articulation of the theory of microaggressions directly from the source. Unfortunately, all we get from Dr. Sue is a conjecture that the increased use of the term is due to the changing demographics of the country. The article is peppered with quotes from few individual students of color describing their experiences of being targets of microaggressions, but the author lets these stand on their own, making little or no effort to situate these experiences in the context of the theory.

 

Meanwhile, Vega is fairly generous in giving voice to those who are more of less skeptical of the concept. She quotes Columbia linguistics professor John McWhorter, who suggests the need to distinguish truly abusive statements - like assuming that every black student on campus is an affirmative action case - from more innocent speech such as an assertion of colorblindness. Vega also cites more serious skeptics, such as Harry Stein (an author noted for his conservative views on race), who criticizes the term microaggression for exaggerating the significance of these encounters and encouraging a victim mentality. The article ends with the venerable Henry Louis Gates Jr. emphasizing that, in the interests of genuine multiculturalism, "the public airing of racial microaggressions should not be limited to minorities."   

An all too familiar feature of the white racial frame is the urge to portray reports of white racial insensitivity as exaggerated and as the cause, rather than the result, of racial tension. Vega makes no secret of her suspicion that much of the discussion of microaggressions may be a matter of "divisive hypersensitivity." This attitude is exemplified by her treatment of Dr. McWhorter's defense of white folks' professions of colorblindness. When McWhorter says that, "whites do not have the same freedom to talk about race that nonwhites do," Vega lets this statement stand unchallenged. This uncritical acceptance makes sense from within a diversity frame which recognizes difference but not power and privilege.

Illustration by Gabriel Ivan Orendain-Necochea/CSUN Daily Sundial

A writer with a critical race frame (which is what is called for here) would have pointed out that the training of whites to avoid talking about race is one of the defining features of post civil rights white supremacy. It is a primary means by which the white power structure maintains itself. Whether the scene is a family holiday, where talking about controversial topics is impolite, or a political campaign, where mentioning racism is "playing the race card," or a community college classroom, where white students are able to shutdown a conversation on race because it's making them uncomfortable, white social norms and white institutional power are very effective at silencing race talk. Moreover, the opportunity to benefit from whiteness while refusing to acknowledge racial differences is the sine qua non of white privilege. Precisely for this reason, from the standpoint of the critical race frame, white people who oppose racism actually have a moral responsibility to talk about whiteness and racism whenever possible.

Another consequence of Vega's white racial frame is her failure to offer any explanation of the theory behind the "trend." Indeed, she fundamentally misrepresents it. In their landmark paper on the topic, Dr. Sue et al. define racial microaggressions as "brief and commonplace daily verbal, behavioral, or environmental indignities, whether intentional or unintentional, that communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative racial slights and insults toward people of color" (italics mine). The definition, which is conspicuously missing from the article, is quite explicit that the psychological impact of racial microaggressions is assumed to be independent of the intentions of the speaker. Moreover, all the literature supporting the theory emphasizes that the negative effects of microaggressions do not arise from isolated interactions, but are cumulative in nature.

No idea is immune from criticism, of course, but there is a significant difference between critique and obfuscation. Rather than challenge the idea of microaggressions on its merits, Vega leaves her readers with the mistaken impression that the discourse is about ascertaining the true intentions of a speaker in order to figure out whether a particular interaction should count as a microaggression. This is clear from the outset, when she wonders if the discussion is useful or whether it represents a "new form of divisive hypersensitivity, in which casual remarks are blown out of proportion." Whether her confusion is genuine or strategic, it comports well with her white racial frame. By concentrating on the question of intentionality, she managed to change the subject in a fairly predictable way. Rather than helping her readers understand the life experience of people of color who are routinely confronted with minor insults, indignities, and invalidations, she opted to wring her hands over the possibility that some "innocent" white people might feel unjustly accused of racism.

This article is a heartbreaking missed opportunity. It could have given Times' readers the gift of a genuine appreciation for the suffering caused by racial microaggressions and made a contribution to the healing of our society's collective racial trauma. Instead, by remaining solidly within a white racial frame, the article ends up simply re-perpetrating that trauma, while giving us white folks more fodder for our claims of innocence.

Whiteness and the Utility of the Colorblind Paradigm

Barry Deutsch / CC BY 3.0

The conversation on race in the U.S. is currently dominated by the paradigm of colorblindness.[i] The colorblind paradigm is based on a story that goes something like this: 
There was, at one time, a terrible problem with racism in this country. But, thanks to the Civil Rights legislation of the 1960s, and the shifting attitudes of the American people, racism is now mostly behind us. Today, although there are still individuals with racist beliefs, the main barrier to the dawning of a post-racial era is the false belief on the political left that racism remains a significant force in U.S. society.
Indeed, according to the proponents of the colorblind paradigm (whom I’ll call race conservatives),[ii] it is this preoccupation with race that actually perpetuates racism. I should add that, although this framing was developed in conservative circles to advance a conservative political agenda, many well-meaning liberals have been seduced by it, proclaiming their post-racial stance with the slogan “I don’t see color; I only see people.”  

One of the race conservatives’ key maneuvers is to set themselves up as the legitimate heirs of the Civil Rights Movement, the true and exclusive aim of which, they claim, was to ban discrimination based on race. This formula was in evidence last summer when Fox News personality Glenn Beck held a rally on the anniversary of one of the movement’s epic moments, the 1963 March on Washington. Indeed, the proponents of colorblindness typically justify their position by citing the part of Dr. Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, in which he expressed his vision of a world where people are no longer judged by their color. Distorting the true intent of his words, they make the demonstrably false claim that Dr. King himself would oppose public policies that directly address historical (and ongoing) injustice. They claim the mantle of King’s legacy and then decry affirmative action, proactive desegregation, and other efforts to redress racism, efforts that King would likely have supported. They label all such efforts “reverse racism,” suggesting that they constitute unfair discrimination against white people.

Being colorblind does not mean simply overcoming discrimination, however. To race conservatives, even talking about racism is inappropriate. For example, to point out the salience of race in some public episode, such as, say, the arrest of Dr. Henry Louis Gates Jr. in front of his own home, is to “play the race card.” Because racism is seen solely in terms of the intentions of individuals, to cite race means to call someone a racist. So, for racism to have played a role in the Gates episode, Officer Crowley would have to be personally racist. And the inference that someone is a racist is seen as tantamount to character assassination (unless the target is a person of color). This clever moral reversal, whereby the agent[iii] of injustice is made into a victim of slander, is quite effective at changing the subject, so that we don’t have to discuss the possibility that, even in supposedly post-racial America, mere social status cannot protect a black man from the hazards of his skin color.

Meanwhile, to suggest that the unique experiences and perspectives of historically marginalized people ought to be represented in public discourse is, according to the colorblind paradigm, to indulge in identity politics and political correctness. This dynamic was on clear display during the confirmation process of Sonia Sotomayor. Race conservatives were outraged by a quote in which Sotomayor suggests that her unique life experiences as a Latina woman have enriched her judicial wisdom. The implication that a legitimate alternative to the dominant (white) perspective is possible, let alone beneficial, provoked indignation because the latter is, by its own lights, the epitome of neutrality and objectivity. Indeed, the presumption that the dominant view is neutral and objective – not “colored” by racial or ethnic particularity – is fundamental to the colorblind paradigm. To question that principle constitutes a heresy of the highest order.

Another pillar of the colorblind paradigm is that, in post-Civil Rights America, everyone has an equal opportunity to succeed. As the story goes, the legislative achievements of the 1960s represent the final fulfillment of the nation’s founding idea of itself as a land where the individual is free to pursue his/her dreams without fear of undue government interference. Notice that this story defines opportunity negatively, as simply the lack of a definite barrier. According to this logic, if there are people of color in the upper echelons of society, there are no racial barriers; ergo, everyone has equal opportunity. But what if opportunity is not an all or nothing proposition? What if it is understood in terms of relative life chances? It should be obvious that, understood in this way, opportunity is not, and can never be, truly equal. The question then becomes, to what degree does race, in particular, still shape the life chances of individuals in America? Whatever the answer to this question may be, to be colorblind means not even having to ask it.

Not having to consider the effect of race on people’s life chances means not having to look for structural or institutional causes. Obviously, everyone who’s paying attention is aware that there remain substantial racial disparities in wealth, academic achievement, employment, etc. However, since the colorblind paradigm presupposes that everyone has equal opportunity, the blame for these disparities can only be attributed to individuals. And since there do not seem to be enough individual racists left to sustain large scale social inequity, people of color themselves must be seen as entirely responsible for their circumstances. Either they are not working hard enough, or they are somehow unfit for the social-Darwinian competition we call the marketplace. Since citing biological differences would violate the tenets of colorblindness (besides being overtly racist), race conservatives lament a lack of discipline and responsibility, for which they fault cultural pathologies within communities of color. Of course, there is another possibility. What if the very existence of these communities is a result of residential segregation practices, whereby white folks sequestered themselves off in virtually all white spaces? And what if, all else being equal, these white spaces offer real material advantages, in terms of economic, educational, and employment opportunities? Once again, being colorblind means being protected from questions like these by unfalsifiable epicycles of victim blaming and white innocence.

Although colorblindness entails conceptual segregation with respect to race, political demagogues still have much to gain from a racialized discourse. Workers in this country have been under siege for four decades, thanks to deindustrialization and corporate globalization. In this environment, politicians and quasi-political figures benefit greatly when the disaffection and frustration of white workers can be channeled into resentment of racialized others. Since the political lexicon has been purged of overtly racist references, however, the mobilization of white racial anxiety is now accomplished by way of coded language that conceals its racially charged implications. Since language like “tough on gangs,” “welfare,” and “Joe six-pack” do not have explicit racial meanings, it is impossible to prove racist intent, but intent is really beside the point. This language is used because it is effective, and it is effective because of the racialized imagery it evokes. Who, among us, pictures someone who looks like Timothy McVeigh when we hear the word “terrorist,” or imagines a Canadian college student with an expired visa when we hear “illegal” used as a noun. If “post-racial” means anything, it means that one no longer needs racist language to stoke white racial fear and resentment.   

Perhaps the most important thing about the colorblind paradigm is that it is a paradigm. That is, it is a system of interrelated and mutually reinforcing concepts. It is all but impossible to overturn a paradigm with facts alone because facts acquire meaning from the very matrix of ideas and assumptions that constitutes the paradigm. This is why race conservatives can always explain, or explain away, all racial disparities without ever calling their “post-racial” approach into question. The entire paradigm is grounded in the doctrine of individualism, which holds that only individuals are truly real. This permits inter-group social dynamics to be rendered invisible along with the five-century history of brutal racial oppression that produced them. But individualism, like historical amnesia and perpetual innocence, is not merely an ideological prop for the colorblind paradigm, it has been, from the moment the first settlers arrived on this continent, at the very heart of the cosmology of whiteness.

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[i] My thinking on this topic has benefited enormously from the writings of Tim Wise, Eduardo Bonilla-Silva, David Roediger, and others.

[ii] I call them race conservatives to emphasize the irony embodied by the colorblind paradigm. Also, I want to avoid attributing this view of race to all conservatives.

[iii] Note that agent is not the same thing as perpetrator, as the former does not bear sole responsibility for the events in which he or she plays a role.