One wonders what Martin Luther King Jr. would have made of Wednesday’s event at the Lincoln Memorial. The March on Washington for Jobs and Freedom of Aug. 28, 1963, is remembered partly for his I Have a Dream speech. Could he have dreamed that within two generations a black American president would stand at the lectern to praise his vision? And how far would that remarkable fact atone, in his view, for the country’s lingering failure to give black Americans their full measure of economic and social equality?
President Obama has often emphasized the paradox. The country that elected him to its highest office is still divided by race — culturally, socially and economically.
There has been progress, and not just in attacking legally sanctioned discrimination. Physical segregation has gently declined, decade by decade. Blacks go to college, advance to the middle class and hold political office in vastly larger numbers than in the 1960s and 1970s. Yet the black-white gap on measures such as income, employment and intergenerational social mobility persists, and in some respects may have worsened in recent years.
So complicated an issue resists simple prescriptions, but I’ll venture one anyway: Dethrone race as the organizing principle for social reform.
This isn’t to say that race doesn’t matter. Explicit discrimination in housing and employment may be illegal, but the persistence of disguised — maybe even unintended — discrimination on grounds of race is a documented fact. Even if discrimination had vanished, blacks would still be at an economic disadvantage because of the burden their parents and grandparents had to carry. This legacy continues to provide an ethical justification for what King called “compensatory consideration,” or what came to be called affirmative action.
The problem with explicitly race-based policies is that they’re increasingly beside the point or even counterproductive. Affirmative action mainly helps blacks from better-off families: It’s of little use to persistently unemployed blacks in depressed inner cities. In higher education it can put students in situations where they can’t learn effectively, contributing to dropout rates that are high even by U.S. standards (and that’s saying something). One of its most pernicious costs is that it casts suspicion on the achievements of successful blacks.
It also entrenches race consciousness, which militates against the long-term goal that King articulated a half-century ago: to create a color-blind society. King wasn’t naive about what it would take to get from here to there — that’s why he advocated affirmative action. Nor should we be naive. Nonetheless, the aim is to eradicate race consciousness, not institutionalize it as a permanent feature of American society. At a certain point, rather than advancing that goal, affirmative action sets it back.
Race consciousness creates political energy, it’s true. Disgust at racial injustice is a powerful motivator for good, as Wednesday’s event demonstrated. But race consciousness also creates division and resistance. If only from a narrowly tactical point of view, that balance needs to be kept in mind. If poverty is framed as a problem of racial injustice, does that move it higher or lower on the political agenda?