Who’s Afraid of Critical Race Theory Today?

Critical Race Theory was launched as an analytical framework to expose institutionally racist social structures. Instead of being embraced, however, it currently finds itself attacked by various governments around the world

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Lambros Fatsis is Lecturer in Criminology at the University of Brighton and the co-author (with Mark Carrigan) of the forthcoming The Public and Their Platforms: Public Sociology in an Era of Social Media and Policing the Pandemic: How Public Health Becomes Public Order (with Melayna Lamb).

Two decades ago, a group of distinguished American legal scholars like Derrick Bell, Patricia Williams, Cheryl Harris, Mari Matsuda, Kimberlé Crenshaw, Richard Delgado and Charles Lawrence founded Critical Race Theory (CRT). Introduced as a theoretical perspective and an innovative mode of scholarship – blending academic research with storytelling – CRT aimed at exposing institutionally racist social structures that routinely produce unjust outcomes for people of colour, and especially Black people. As such, CRT was unsurprisingly opposed by those who felt attacked by it. Derrick Bell’s classic essay: Who’s Afraid of Critical Race Theory?  gives us a hint, as does Patricia Williams’ observation about how ‘statements alleging oppression sound like personal attacks, declarations of war’.

Bell and Williams committed those words to paper in the early 1990s. Their analysis, however, loses none of its resonance today as recent attacks on CRT demonstrate. It therefore seems appropriate to ask: Who’s afraid of Critical Race Theory today? As examples from the US, the UK and France illustrate, there are good reasons to fear those who fear CRT – especially when they want to silence it through inflammatory rhetoric and punitive policy-making that reveals a reactionary stance towards social justice, that is as alarming as it is dangerous.

In the US, a recent White House memo described CRT as ‘divisive, false, and demeaning propaganda’ that ‘is contrary to all we stand for as Americans and should have no place in the Federal government’. In disconcertingly McCarthyist language, the same document instructs all Federal agencies to:

‘identify all contracts or other agency spending related to any training on “critical race theory”, “white privilege,” or any other training or propaganda effort that teaches or suggests either (1) that the United States is an inherently racist or evil country or (2) that any race or ethnicity is inherently racist or evil. In addition, all agencies should begin to identify all available avenues within the law to cancel any such contracts and/or to divert Federal dollars away from these unAmerican propaganda training sessions’.

In the UK, the government’s Minister for Equalities, Kemi Badenoch, also railed against CRT – emphatically declaring that ‘this Government stands unequivocally against Critical Race Theory’ and stressing that ‘any school which teaches these elements of critical race theory as fact or which promotes partisan political views […] without offering a balanced treatment of opposing views is breaking the law’. So consumed was Badenoch in her anger at CRT that she suggested that bestselling anti-racist authors like Reni Eddo-Lodge and Robin DiAngelo ‘actually want a segregated society’. In France, the Minister of Education, Jean-Michel Blanquer, claimed that ‘indigenist, racialist, and “decolonial” ideologies,’ imported from North America, were responsible for ‘conditioning’ the violent extremist who assassinated school teacher, Samuel Paty, last October.

All this could be dismissed as mere authoritarian posturing, yet these histrionic outbursts become translated into policy. In the UK, government guidelines on school curricula that target ‘divisive or victim narratives that are harmful to British society’ attest to that. As does the assignment of equality roles to people whose views undermine the agendas that they are supposed to prioritise. Consider the appointment of a Race Equality chief (Tony Sewell) who downplays the reality of institutional racism. Or perhaps the head of the No. 10 policy unit (Munira Mirza), who also considers institutional racism a ‘myth’ and thinks of race disparity audits as ‘dangerous and divisive’. Last but not least, think about the new chair of the Equality and Human Rights Commission (David Goodhart), who staunchly defends ‘hostile environment’ immigration policies, and ‘white self-interest’. Such a line-up of “equality-bashing” equality chiefs is hardly accidental or a transient deviation from the norm. It personifies how governments think and act when their interests are threatened by calls for fairness and justice.

It is little wonder that CRT became the target of a witch-hunt, in an attempt to de-legitimise it and avoid addressing the substance of its critical analysis – out of fear that it might expose how social inequality is normalised, legitimised and institutionalised through ideas, people and decision-making processes. The hostility against CRT therefore starts making sense when social justice is perceived as dangerous and threatening to political agendas that depend on inequality to preserve self-interest. Worse still, this brand of political conservatism (authoritarian populism redux?) does not simply oppose interventions to promote equality and social justice. It institutionalises its objection to such interventions by dismissing them as ‘ideological’ and declaring them ‘illegal’.

Ironically, such an irrational fear of CRT bolsters confidence in it as a critical framework which helps us analyse why and how a government might attack Black or anti-racist scholarship as ‘ideological’ and ‘illegal’, when that same government acts in an ideologically-driven and unlawful manner. Examples include: denying institutional racism despite ample evidence to the contrary (see, e.g. here and here), ignoring scientific advice on public health emergencies, introducing police powers against evidence of their discriminatory outcomes, deriding ‘activist lawyers’ and ‘left-wing criminologists’, acting unlawfully through the prorogation of parliament in the heyday of Brexit, breaking international law with its internal market bill and passing Covid-19 regulations by ministerial decree without parliamentary scrutiny.

The cumulative effect of such recklessness indicates a haughty contempt for evidence, the rule of law, academic freedom, dissent and accountability. Seen in this context, crusades against CRT sound like frustrated screams at reality, instead of attempts to listen to the evidence, respect the law or engage with counterbalancing arguments. Despite all the clamour about CRT dominating school curricula – which is unfounded – it is the single-minded opposition to CRT that proves to be one-sided, thereby ‘promoting divisive or victim narratives that are harmful to British society’ to use the government’s own wording against itself. Fear of CRT by those who are challenged by it, appears more dangerous and threatening that CRT could ever be. Political rhetoric and policymaking that is based on wilful blindness and angry reaction to embarrassing facts runs the risk of (mis)educating entire generations of citizens, by desensitising us to social injustice. Instead of sharpening critical thinking skills and promoting ethical conduct, the “war” against CRT deliberately misleads, obfuscates and frustrates the development of truth-seeking and truth-telling citizenship – through subterfuge and bluff that attempts to convince us that calling out policies that create harm and victimise people promotes victimhood, instead of highlighting social injustice.

Resisting such desperate attempts to mute CRT to inaudibility, it seems to appropriate to end this article by amplifying its message through the voice of my favourite CRT scholar; Patricia Williams. In The Alchemy of Race and Rights, Williams buttresses ‘truth-denying truisms’ of colour-blindness, or post-raciality, by reminding us of the ‘power of racism as status quo’. According to Williams ‘it is deep, angry, eradicated from view, but strong enough’ to make up ‘its own breed of narrower, simpler, but hypnotically powerful rhetorical truths’ that ‘that set up angry, excluding boundaries’ tempting people to ‘sink so deeply into the authoritarianism of their own worldview’. In just a handful of phrases plucked from a book that brims with eloquence and insight, CRT – in Williams’ hands – emerges as the thoughtful, considered antidote to the noisy bullishness of CRT’s attackers. One may disagree with Williams’ analysis, or reject CRT altogether. Judged against the baseless pronouncements of those who wish to suppress it, however, CRT succeeds at unmasking the ideological commitments of those who whip themselves up into rage to avoid criticism; blaming scholars for pointing out the divisions that their political agendas create.

Dr. Lambros Fatsis, Lecturer in Criminology, University of Brighton

Twitter: @lfatsis

Copyright: Photo by Lan Nguyen from Pexels

Eight Minutes and Forty-Six Seconds

Police militarization enables racial oppression

Paul Edwards

Paul Edwards is a Criminology PhD Researcher based at Liverpool John Moores Universities Faculty of Arts Professional and Social Studies & School of Justice Studies. Research interests include: Popular and cultural criminology, illicit markets, organised crime and critical criminological theory.

 

“These streets will speak for themselves”

(Dave Chappelle – 8:46 Netflix)

The murder of George Floyd shocked the world and again put the reality of living in the United States, especially as a BAME citizen on the global stage. During a global pandemic, millions around the country bravely marched, protested for justice and declared their message ‘Black Lives Matter’. In response the US government deployed its heavily militarised police to face them and later, National Guard units lined city streets: rifles, batons and shields in hand.

This also inspired protests globally: in the UK, France and Belgium people came out in support of the BLM movement. Nations woke to populations whose anger was clear to see and statues of former slave traders (representing the historical roots of black oppression) were ripped down. So, in light of recent events this blog will focus on the current state of policing in the United States and seek to address the questions: Where has policing gone wrong? How policing relates to concerns about racial tensions? and How might policing change?

To answer the first question, it is not hard to see that the trust in the police and the wider justice system is seriously eroded in large sections of the US. Thus, this section will focus on the loss faith in policing in the US and how it adds racial inequality and oppression.

This subject is ‘Militarisation’, which Kraska (2007) notes as the traditional distinctions between military/police, war/law enforcement and when internal/external security becomes blurred. Additionally, Kraska states that Militarism in its most basic sense, is an ideology focused on the best means to solve problems. It is a set of beliefs, values, and assumptions that stress the use of force and threat of violence. This direction towards militarisation has been tracked down to its beginnings most impactfully with the terrorist event of 9/11 (Dunlap, 2001). However they have also been documented as early as the US involvement, both abroad and domestically, in drug control efforts in the mid-to-late 1980s (Kraska, 1993) .

The consequences of militarisation are vast, including hyper-violent, no-knock raids. Debates have been raised to question if these are unconstitutional and breach local police powers. In the US, these types of raids go head to head with the second amendment, as cases have come to light where officers and citizens have been shot as a result, see example here: Breonna-Taylor-shooting. These usually result in expensive litigation judgments but they still exist as a result of militarisation, with questions being raised on the targeting of innocent individuals (like the case above) because of their race (Balko, 2006).

Opinions voiced in online platforms, suggest the policing community see their job as an ‘us vs. them’ scenario. This is best described by youtuber Wraglerstar who shares his opinions about the change in the policing, specifically from the 80’s to the present day. In this he describes the beginnings of the militarisation of police and the change (notably in the city) where police officers seem to become more ‘special forces operator looking’ as well as describing this changed mentality. For Wraglerstar, this changed mentality in policing was experienced after being pulled over aggressively by heavily armed officers, assaulted and even being harassed by the same officers after the incident. Going further he points out that ‘no one is inviting these guys to the local barbeque’ because their aggressive nature is not welcome. This is unlike  the past, where police and other services would be invited to ‘birthdays’ and ‘thanksgiving’ get togethers to tighten community bonds, morals and trust. Therefore, this demonstrates that community policing is, as stated above, seriously eroded.

In short this change in mentality can be said to be due to militarisation as Kraska (2007) noted that it causes a cultural shift to martial language, appearance, beliefs, and values. An example of the culture can be seen in the Punisher Skull used by police in the US specifically, even though the use of this in the Marvel comics represents the failure of the police and justice system. What this has caused, is a complete failure of the purpose of the policing model in the US with the community aspect of policing being totally thrown out of the window. Regardless of how many community outreach teams departments police have, the community they serve is fearful and disconnected.

Turning to the second question, it is obvious that the militarisation of the police only serves to widen the racial tensions in communities and enables those officers who have a racist mindset to exercise their views in a more hyper-violent way. Policing as a whole depends on communities trusting those who are there to protect and serve. However, if the police themselves are not part of the community, they have no vested interest in that community. This is not helped by officers who are drafted in from other parts of the country and do not understand the cultures and traditions of the neighborhood.

Thirdly, the militarisation of the police needs to be rethought and stripped back. The communities they serve are not the enemy, they are citizens who expect to be treated as innocent until proven guilty. They are people who want to welcome in officers to their shop, chat to them on the street and invite them to cookouts. But they will not invite people they see as a threat, who are violent to them and kill people on the street through excessive force. Extensive training is needed and when an officer is seen to be using excessive force, officers around need be equipped to challenge without fear of backlash.

Perhaps the time has come to question more deeply how to police a predominantly armed nation? It is necessary to question why patrol officers need to be seen in neighborhoods patrolling in camouflage pants and why at a peaceful protest is there armored SWAT trucks and officers with rifles at the ready. This only harbors a culture that looks at everything like a battle to be fought.

To conclude, it is obvious how the militarization enables an overuse of power and potentially allows those with a racist mindset to fulfil their prejudice and this needs to change. Policing needs to change, whether this is stripping departments back to people who come from the communities, or other solutions, it is critical-community style policing restored to maintain civilian oversight. Other solutions like defunding the police may be a slippery and dangerous slope however and may lead to private security solutions (as seen in the UK and some US states) and this needs to be avoided, as this may lead to the loss of trust and vulnerability as demonstrated in South Africa. With this it is critical solutions are looked for, debated and critical thought is needed from all sides. This blog ends on one thought, that the police (and the incredibly difficult job they do) are needed but the senseless deaths need to end.

 

Below are links to recommended viewing:

The Future of Policing in America – Understanding & Changing Police Training: Gracie-Breakdown

Racial oppression and community by Kimberly Jones

Netflix 8:46 – Police brutality and lived experience by Dave Chappelle

Netflix Collection – ‘Black Storytelling’ Including Ava DuVernays ‘When They See Us’

 

Contact

Paul Edwards,  Liverpool John Moores University

Email: P.Edwards@2020.ljmu.ac.uk

Twitter: @P_Edwards8

Images: courtesy of the author

News of Police Racism May Shock, But Should It Surprise?

Racism is often seen as an anomaly which has no place in policing. Yet, a closer look at its historical mission reintroduces policing and racism as partners in crime.

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Dr. Lambros Fatsis is a Lecturer in Criminology at the University of Brighton and the winner of the British Society of Criminology’s ‘Blogger of the Year Award 2018’.

 

 

The news of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor’s killing by US police and the protests it inspired worldwide, continue to attract widespread media coverage and light the fuse for much public commentary and private discussions on police racism and what can be done to root it out. Such fatal incidents of police racism naturally shock us on a human level, but we must move beyond surprise to fully grasp the ‘mutually constitutive’ relationship between policing and racism. This blog post is written to remind us what policing and police racism are and do, followed by some suggestions on what to do to undo the problem as citizens and Criminologists alike.

What is Policing?

Policing is (stereo)typically understood as what the police do to fight crime and keep the public safe from harm. Such a definition of — or orientation towards —  policing as the maintenance of law and order by the civil force of the state (=the police), implies that policing is what the police do as a neutral public institution that exists to ensure public safety and defend a harmonious social order where rules and laws that regulate human behaviour are respected and upheld. Seductive though such a view of policing might be, it is deeply flawed. Not only does it tell us little about how such rules and laws come to be — or whether it was “us” who asked for them in the first place — but it also paints a wholly inaccurate picture of what the police actually do.

The reality is bleaker than we care to admit. We don’t quite have our say in what becomes law, we never really asked for a police force, and crime-fighting is marginal to policing. Legislators make laws and while parliamentarians pass them, and we most certainly do not consent to everything they vote for on our behalf. When we vote for our elected representatives, we essentially give them a blanket agreement to act in our own interest by making judgements for us.  However, some legislation — like the current Coronavirus regulations — is not even discussed in parliament and can be unlawful too.

Police forces did not emerge by public demand. On the contrary, they were perceived as intrusive by the public they were created to police; earning themselves abusive — yet colourful nicknames — such as “blue locusts”, “blue devils,” “blue plagues,” “blue idlers,” “hired mercenaries,” and “unconstitutional bravoes” by those who were policed against. As for the “crime-fighting” mission of the police, it belongs to the sphere of mythology rather than the world of empirical evidence (see here, and here). As David H. Bayley pithily put it: ‘The police do not prevent crime. This is one of the best kept secrets of modern life. Experts know it, the police know it, but the public does not know it. Yet the police pretend that they are society’s best defense against crime and continually argue that if they are given more resources, especially personnel, they will be able to protect communities against crime. This is a myth. […] Governments should either resolve the doubts about the usefulness of the police or face up to the conclusion that preventing crime requires a great deal more than pouring money into law enforcement’. What policing actually does is ‘fabricate’, ‘enforce’ and protect an unequal social order through social control. There is, therefore, nothing neutral, depoliticised or democratic about it other than in disguise or in denial about its essential function and mission as an order maintenance institution.

What is Police Racism?

Not unlike policing, police racism is also held hostage to misunderstandings and denials of its very existence. Frequently mistaken for personal prejudice, police racism —like racism itself — is rarely discussed as the form of structural inequality that it actually is. (Police) racism is not simply what somebody thinks about or does to someone who is perceived, defined, classified and understood —primarily if not exclusively — as a member of a particular (minority) racial or ethnic group. It is a socio-cultural, political, institutional mentality, worldview and ideology which assigns a negative value to biological and cultural differences that are perceived as alien, incomprehensible, and inadmissible to a (majority) white society. (Police) racism, therefore, is not just what happens as a result of discrimination against those who are racially or ethnically “different”, but the socio-cultural and political context in which such difference is created and policed against. As such it is absorbed and embedded into, as well as normalised and legitimised within mainstream social, cultural and political institutions. In fact, police racism doesn’t even require police officers to be racist for policing to be racist. It is a systemic feature of a criminal justice institution that is shaped by an exclusionary worldview, which draws boundaries and establishes hierarchies on the basis of physiological or cultural traits. Police racism can therefore be understood as racism in uniform — armed with a truncheon— but it is also a tautology given that racism and policing share the same history and function as ideologies (racism) and tools (policing) of social control.

Contrary to conventional wisdom and mainstream criminological historiography, policing as a modern institution — in the US and the UK — was not immaculately conceived in 19th century New York and London but founded during colonialism and slavery. Both in the US and the UK, the models and styles of policing that emerged in the metropole derive from pre-professional, informal militias that were formed to patrol, capture and control fugitive slaves and colonial subjects in the American South and Britain’s overseas “possessions” (see here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here). The antecedents of the London Metropolitan Police in 1829, therefore, exist not just in the Royal Irish Constabulary in the former British colony of Ireland — both founded by the Conservative party’s founder Sir Robert Peel — but in the plantations of the Caribbean and the Indian subcontinent too. As such, police forces start their life as instruments of suppression —wielded by slaveholders and colonisers to maintain a form of discrimination and dehumanisation —before evolving into professional institutions that serve and protect the state from those who are seen as undeserving of its protection. Originally designed as they were to brutalise and terrorise slaves and colonial subjects, police forces seamlessly transitioned into policing — and sometimes killing — Black and Brown people today.

What to Do?

Having offered only the sketchiest overview of what policing and police racism are and do, setting out a plan of action nevertheless seems inevitable given the palpable urgency of the current moment. None of what follows is therefore intended as a paternalistic finger-wagging exercise but as an invitation to undo policing and its racism intellectually, culturally and politically by killing that cop inside our heads. In the interest of brevity, these suggestions will be presented as a bullet point list, or notes to self, in the hope that firing them off in this manner with not compromise their critical content but open up a frank discussion about the issue.

  • Read extensively about policing and police racism to gain a deeper, and more critical, insight into both. These recommendations are a good place to start.
  • Don’t vote for political parties that promise more powers or more money to the police. Or at least challenge them about it.
  • Learn about, join, and support campaigns against police violence (I, II, III IV)
  • Think beyond policing when thinking about how to design public safety. Think about what can we do to be safe without the police (e.g. I, II)
  • Don’t call the police, if possible. Think about alternative sources of help and support that can actually keep us safe
  • Teach policing and the history of policing differently to illustrate how the legacy of colonialism and slavery is still alive as an ideology and practice of racial discrimination
  • Do research on, not for the police

 

The list could go on, yet the message is simple: defunding, disarming, disbanding and disempowering the police  should become a priority. Such calls are becoming mainstream, yet the Criminological mainstream retreats to feel-good bromides about reforming, working (together) with, or being “critical friends” to the police. Objective, sensible, cool-headed, reasoned and respectably “professional” though such stuttering timidity may sound, it simply creates the illusion of problem-solving without addressing what “the problem” is, where it comes from and how to address it; beyond cosmetic changes that repair the reputational damage of policing without reducing its impact on those who are harmed by its discriminatory nature and lethal outcomes. Criminologists may not have the monopoly over such knowledge or be singlehandedly responsible for producing and disseminating it, but it is still our duty to ensure that our thinking, our writing, our teaching and our actions move beyond ‘dangerous myths and comfortable untruths’ that empower law enforcement at the expense of social justice.

This article gives the views of the author, not the position of the institution he works for.

Contact

Dr. Lambros Fatsis, Lecturer in Criminology, University of Brighton

Twitter: @lfatsis

 

Images: courtesy of the author and Pexels