While on vacation out East, I got the chance to pick up and read Walter Benn Michaels’ 2006 book The Trouble With Diversity. Might as well spoil the suspense and start by saying Benn Michaels didn’t convince me when he argues (like Michaels Lind and Tomasky) that left-wing “identity politics” around race and gender stand in the way of a serious left-wing class politics. The book reminded me at various points of Catherine MacKinnon’s argument (in Towards a Feminist Theory of the State) that feminists and Marxists view each other with suspicion because each party could undo one kind of oppression while leaving the other oppression intact. It’s often not clear to whom Benn Michaels, an English professor, is addressing his argument. He offers criticisms (often clever, always articulate) of some academic arguments about identity, but he doesn’t engage with many pivotal ones – like the literature on intersectional (rather than additive) approaches to identity, considering how identities mediate each other – how being identified as a poor Black woman has different social and economics meanings than just being poor plus being Black plus being a woman. He calls Omi and Winant’s Racial Formation in the United States “certainly the most influential academic text on the social construction of race,” but cites only two sentences from it.
If the argument is directed at political practitioners, we’re left wondering how he actually pictures the left gaining power and effectiveness by throwing race and gender overboard. In a telling line criticizing the focus on sexism at Wal-Mart as a distraction from exploitation there, Benn Michaels asserts that “Laws against discrimination by gender are what you go for when you’ve given up on – or turned against – the idea of a strong labor movement.” Tell that to all the folks in the labor movement and labor-allied groups who’ve worked to support the Dukes lawsuit and the fight against Wal-Mart’s sexism as part of a broad-based critique of a company that helpfully illustrates the connections between conservatism’s threat to gender equality, economic justice, environmental sustainability, and other values progressives and most Americans hold dear. Benn Michaels’ approach, which denies that rich people can be victims of oppression or that poor people can be oppressed by more than only poverty, would render the left unable to fully understand, let alone seriously engage, with what Betty Dukes and millions of women like her are facing (see also Whitewashing Race). As badly as Benn Michaels may wish for a revived labor movement, in advocating a disregard for identity politics he’s echoing the disconnection from progressive social movements which contributed the labor movement’s decline in the first place. Those blinders regarding oppressions besides class mirror the blindness to class of too many in, for example, the pro-choice movement – blindness of which Benn Michaels would be rightly critical.
That said, we needn’t accept Benn Michael’s arguments about the irrelevance of race- and sex-based politics to appreciate the book’s critical insight: that the plutocrats triumph when poverty is understood as an identity to be respected rather than as a problem to be eliminated. Conservatives, as he argues, have masterfully reframed our class problem as being about the elitists who look down on poor people rather than about the robber barons, de-regulators, and union-busters who make them poor. Examples abound in conservative literature (Tom Wolfe comes in for some enjoyable criticism in The Trouble With Diversity), but Benn Michaels is right that seemingly liberal takes on class often suffer from the same problem. And he’s right that conservatives draw on the language we use to talk about race to pull this off.
I was reminded of People Like Us, a very engaging PBS documentary about class in America that explores a series of interesting situations – working-class folks fight with ex-hippies about what kind of supermarket to bring into their neighborhood; tensions within African-American communities about whether Jack and Jill clubs aimed at well-off Black kids are elitist; a daughter’s embarrassment about her “trailer park” mom – but all from the perspective of how different classes can get along, not how we can reduce or eliminate class differences. The least sympathetic characters in the movie are a bunch of snotty high school kids at a mixed-income public school talking in awful terms about why they wouldn’t talk to the poor kids they go to school with (“What would we talk to them about?”). It’s a good movie. But you could walk away with the sense that our class problems would be solved if the rich kids would befriend the poor kids. Which, as Benn Michaels would argue, would be much less expensive or destabilizing for the powers that be than making those kids’ families less poor. As Benn Michaels writes (in one of many paragraphs that makes you wish more political books were written by English professors) about an episode of Wife Swap:
At no time, apparently, did it occur to the makers of the show, the people in it or the people reviewing it, that what the show really demonstrates is how much better it is to be rich than to be poor. Or perhaps one should say not that the show ignores this point but that it is devoted to denying it, and that it succeeds so completely (this is its brilliance) that we find ourselves believing that run-down shacks in the woods are just as nice as Park Avenue apartments, especially if your husband remembers to thank you for chopping the wood when you get home from driving the bus. The idea the show likes is the one Tom Wolfe and company like: that the problem with being poor is not having less money than rich people but having rich people “look down” on you. And the rich husband is bad because he does indeed look down on the poor people, whereas the rich wife (the one who has never done a day’s work in her life and who begins the show by celebrating her “me time,” shopping, working out, etc.) turns out to be good because she comes to appreciate the poor and even to realize that she can learn from them. The fault here is not in being rich but in thinking that you have better taste – more generally, in thinking that…you are are a better person.
I haven’t read the book, but I guess I’m somewhat predisposed to agree with Benn Michaels about the distractions and distortions of what we commonly call identity politics.
This comes partly from a belief I hold about the forces that dominate individuals, society, culture, work, and politics in the interest of extracting wealth. While those forces never disregard individual and group identities in constituting and perpetuating their control, they only care about those identities insofar as the identities relate to the means (and opportunity for) control.
A slightly too glib way to re-state this would be to say: women don’t make less than men because we have a system that actively devalues female work – rather, we have a system that devalues female work in order to produce a cheaper and more easily manipulated labor supply. When women, or black males, or members of a particular ethnic group move out of an area of labor, their spot is filled by whomever fits the bill (that is, in the absence of organized resistance). This can be expanded beyond the area of labor to include the arts, politics, etc.
So from that perspective, I think a focus on class issues (in the broad sense of a critical examination of capital control) must remain paramount, and the questions of identity (voice, culture, bias, even some civil rights) are relegated to supporting players in understanding that struggle. They become distracting and distorting when we privilege historical, aesthetic, humanitarian, moral, or religious analysis of identity issues over class issues – because the truth is, while we may feel most comfortable and correct in those analytical arenas, the boss could give a shit. He will inhabit those arenas when it suits his interests and abandon them when it doesn’t. He has no problem being Martin Luther King and Ayn Rand in the same day, because ultimately he doesn’t care – in business, it’s what goes on the 10K or the investor prospectus that matters, in politics it’s the measure of power. In culture it’s whatever it is – confirmation of one’s relevance, the simultaneous removal from fear and consequences, I don’t know. But the currency damn sure doesn’t reside people’s possession of rights relative to their membership in some “identity” class.
See what I’m saying? We can raise hell about minority representation in film (which is fairly trivial), or about sexual harassment (which is definitely not), but the only thing that gets the boss’s attention is when we take something of real, lasting value, something that can’t be replaced or worked around. Otherwise it’s one step up, two steps back.
(I have not thought this through)
Haven’t read the book either, but i have read some of the critiques of it. Here i’m more responding to Alek, because I like arguing with Alek.
“Minority issues in film” is something of a canard (what’s a canard? Isn’t that a duck?) because most of the folks who are doing serious interventions into race/gender/sexuality theory have way more developed interactions with histories of capitalism, labor, and class formation.
I guess for me the go to argument is Stuart Hall’s suggestion that “race may be the modality through which class is lived,” that histories of racial formation, colonialism, and empire have and have had incredibly important ramifications for how class relations get structured – who winds up in what kind of relation to the boss, to her labor, to the state.
To argue that we have to separate ‘identity’ issues from class issues – and Judith Butler’s good here too in her response to Armstrong in Social Text — is to gloss over how inextricable the two often are from each other. Race and gender have structural impact upon class formation, which isn’t to say that the opposite isn’t also true – it certainly is – or that race and gender as categories of difference don’t get commodified and mobilized by capitalists, but none of those things ultimately mean that the history of, say, white skilled workers unions actively negotiating the segregation and exclusion of black workers in their contracts doesn’t need to be taken into account when we think about how poverty works, how class works.
I need to go figure out my dissertation proposal.
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