Capitalism and the Color Line
I call it Big Pimpin’
Unbridled capitalism uses the “color line” to justify exploitation!
First, as most know, concepts of race, class, and caste are man-made socio-economic constructs — concepts created, and used, to define hierarchical power relationships amongst people who by divine right have equal value. Within some societies, aligning these concepts with religious dogma and political ideologies deifies others’ submission, thereby indemnifying capitalism’s too often callous treatment of others.
However, color line constructs did not always exist. There was a time in human history when skin color did not define enslavement, power, class, intellect, prosperity, wealth building, and more. From what I can tell, the advent of skin color being used as a hierarchical socio-economic construct is fairly new in world history. Like, maybe a thousand years or so when references to Europe’s “Dark Ages” coincided with the Moor’s occupation of the Iberian Peninsula. Or when characterizations of Africa as the “Dark Continent” became popularized; portending a more exploitive reason for aligning skin color to capitalistic considerations of others. Although, such references seem fairly benign, in hindsight, when compared to today’s color line rhetoric.
Walking through the Museo Nacional de Colombia in Bogota many years ago, beautifully hand-painted artistic renderings depicting Alonso de Ojeda encountering Indigenous peoples of that land caught my attention. It was my first time reading pictorial accounts written by Indigenous peoples of their first contact with their conquerors. From their perspectives, the Spaniards thought they were meeting people who were part animal, with tails and limited intellect, was a bit humorous. And then it hit me: it’s easier to exploit those regarded as lesser than us as opposed to coming from an existential reality centered on the belief that all consciousness is equal — especially when their weaponry does not match yours.
The enslavement of people because of their skin color flows from the same regard. “They are not us means they are less than we,” epitomized the moral high ground taken by people seeking religious freedom. Manifest Destiny justifying Indigenous peoples’ genocide and the appropriation of their lands and resources made God the fall guy for unbridled capitalism. American Exceptionalism became the vehicle for power grabbing, blessed by lineage and skin color, and became the wind beneath colonization’s wings.
A Hillbilly’s Elegy
If you’ve not read J.D. Vance’s biopic, Hillbilly Elegy, then borrow a copy. Or see the movie. Now that he’s a vice presidential candidate, Vance’s “white people are angry and here’s why” narrative gains significance. His thoughts about his Appalachian family, their self-pity, and self-destructive behaviors made his book a New York Times bestseller. The cause of their condition is a bit obscure, however. So here’s my take. By the way, I also grew up in Appalachia. So, I know a bit about the people of whom he writes.
Vance tells us a story of people who thought of themselves as privileged living with the reality that they were not. Better than those not of their skin color, though they were not. And though he implies disdain for those who do not have the work ethic to live their dreams, he also justifies their right to be so. Their right to be angry, while rejecting opportunities they believe are beneath them, is protected by their whiteness. Now, here’s a glimpse into Vance: the people with whom he identifies are the same people he disrespects for not being him.
Their privilege, born from the opportunities given to white immigrants and withheld from descendants of those brought to the country in servitude, is validated by the absence of an insightful critique of the disparity. Instead, he disparages the white working class for their contentment to be angry in poverty. He insinuates that those with the benefits of white privilege should capitalize upon that privilege. Again, as he did. When you read and research Project 2025, you’ll find that Vance’s book is little more than a primer for the life being promised to those who want privilege without working for it.
Color line containment has always been a promise and a threat
Inciting people’s fear that someone not like them will take their jobs uses our adaptive unconscious to motivate us to action. Malcolm Gladwell in his book Blink: The Power of Thinking Without Thinking (Back Bay Books, Little Brown, 2005) uses the construct of our adaptive unconscious to talk about how snap judgments and impulsive decision-making can rule, or ruin (my inference), our lives. Many believe that part of us is used for survival, from a time when that rumbling in the bushes was a cave lion.
These days, for many, their adaptive unconscious gets incited when the “color line” is invoked as the threat. Some in the media call it “red meat” as the perceptions of many Whites are wrapped around messaging that says they have a right to any job they want, qualified or not. And that they have the power to give and deny that job, and all that goes with it — like feeding one’s family — to anyone they see fit.
Remember the “White Hands Ad” that gave Jesse Helms the win over Democrat Harvey Gantt, a Black man? The ad features a close-up shot of two hands holding a letter and crumpling it as a narrator says, “You needed that job, but they had to give it to a minority.” That’s a good example of manipulating White peoples’ adaptive unconscious, stoking fear responses for a desired outcome. The ad won Helms the election.
During his debate with President Biden, Donald Trump, by asserting that “Black jobs” and “Hispanic jobs” were being taken by “illegal immigrants,” was sounding the alarm to our adaptive unconscious the same way Jesse Helms did. He repeated his call to action at the National Black Journalist Conference. Trump puts a spin on Helms’ ploy though. Because he knows there are not enough White voters to get him elected, he says, there’s a certain kind of work you Black and Hispanic people do. And I will protect that kind of work for you if you support me.
I wish he would have said that!
Days later, at the NAACP Convention, President Biden’s retort, “I’ll tell you what a Black job is. It’s the vice president of the United States,” was, on its face, an echo-chamber response. There was nothing within his words that acknowledged the hypervigilance demanded of many behind the “Color Line.” Even those deemed to be successful are not immune from marginalization. These “Affirmative Action” or “DEI hires,” born of White man’s guilt or some sordid exchange, only exist because a White person chose them from behind the “Color Line.”
Though receiving applause, I wish he would have said, “A Black Job is anything Black people want it to be.” Or, “A Black job is being President of the United States. We’ve had one, remember? And I hope in my lifetime we’ll have another. Equally as successful as the first!” Either would have been epic replies. Either would have also elevated him to prophetic status, given subsequent events.
Al Fin: A tale of two statesmen
On the battlefield, “leave no man behind,” is often said. Why? Because that’s the human thing to do. Benjamin Netanyahu is just one example of a leader who has abandoned this characteristic. The optics of a war criminal addressing the U.S. Congress to the cheers of a principally Republican audience (almost half of Congress’s Democrats skipped the speech) while hostages remain in captivity in the Gaza Strip, according to Wikipedia, stand as a symbolic representation of those who have been willing during this nation’s history to leave people of color behind.
President Joe Biden’s leadership of the nation, a man who held secret the potential of political prisoners coming home during what must have been agonizing days, stands very much in stark contrast to Netanyahu. To Joe Biden, leaving no one behind was not just a catchphrase. It became, after his ascendency to the vice presidency, a way of being. His appointments, legislative accomplishments, and policy decisions are almost all born out of a humanity that has more than once been called into question. A humanity that passed the torch, unequivocally, to a woman of Jamaican and Indian parents who claims the African diaspora in the same way as President Barrack Hussein Obama and millions of Generation Z.
The “color line” has been used for centuries to dominate the interest of a few. Perhaps no longer are unbridled capitalism’s hold on humanity, its values, beliefs, and dogmatic ideologies. To the Lakota and other Native Nations, with the rare birth of a white bison in Yellowstone National Park last June, ceremoniously named Wakan Gli, a sacred prophecy forebodes a warning: humanity and our environment are at a crossroads.
Choose wisely!
