The Pugnacious Fallacy of the Merit-Based World

I would love it if the world were truly merit-based. Or even if the world were genuinely merit-based, but with random shit that happens in an equal distribution to everyone. Or the random shit could even possibly happen to the people at the bottom of the merit-based world, because the people at the bottom have chosen to be there. I wouldn't prefer that those at the bottom get more shit, but if it had to be that way, I'd accept it.

Unfortunately, the world is not merit-based. The people on top, with the money, the power, the privilege, are not there because they deserve to be there. The people on bottom, with the poverty, the violence, the disenfranchisement, are not there because they deserve to be, either. Our society and world does not start from an equal playing field. All people do not have the same opportunities nor the same starting resources.

In US society, we like to pretend otherwise. We like to pretend that it is possible to pull ourselves up by our bootstraps. We point to the statistical minority who overcame the odds and take them as anecdotal evidence that upward social mobility is as easy as working hard and being determined. Therefore, everyone at the bottom who stays at the bottom is just lazy. Is defective. Deserves their miserable lives. We even like to castigate the poor for asking for help. We like to tell them to go help themselves. We prattle on about "a hand-up, not a hand-out," as if we know what they really need. You're hungry? Well, here's a job that you can't go to because you have no childcare and cannot afford to pay someone to do it, look how lazy you are, it's your own fault you're hungry, and you're a bad parent for failing your kids. In fact, you're a failure of a human being because you had kids you can't afford. Oh, you couldn't afford/didn't have access to contraception information? Well then you shouldn't have had sex. You're a slut, too.

In addition to loving to blame those on the bottom for their troubles, we also like to defend those at the top. How dare you feel threatened by an unknown male of obvious physical prowess walking behind you, a lone woman walking at night? That's discriminatory against men! Nevermind that there is a significant history of sexual violence in our culture, much of it perpetrated by men against women, within a culture that actively excuses rape. What? You, a woman, have been sexually assaulted? You must have been asking for it. It must be your fault for not being aware enough of your surroundings, or for wearing provocative clothing, or for drinking alcohol/doing drugs at a party. You should have protected yourself better. Surely it isn't your attacker's fault that they attacked you. I know you got hurt and traumatized, but I doubt it was even an attack. It was probably just consensually rough.

And then there are those who feel threatened by discourse and programs designed to point out/correct differences in power and privilege. What? There's an affirmative action quota that says so many people of color have to be hired, even if they have worse qualifications/test scores that me, a white person? That's racist! Our society isn't racist against people of color anymore, we have a black president! We live in a post-racial world! Quit discriminating against white people! What, you say that the systemic institutional discrimination against people of color for the last several hundred years has left their communities ghettoized and impoverished with inadequate schools and little to no inherited resources, so that correcting for it through affirmative action programs constitutes a small and inadequate measure of justice, but it is something? Well, that's bullshit because we live in a merit-based society. They're poor and undereducated because they are lazy sluts who just want to live off hand-outs, paid for by my hard earned tax money!

Countering all of these arguments is exhausting. The premise, the merit-based society, is a myth, but it is a strongly held one. It shores up all kinds of fallacious arguments that keep injustice from being seen and justice from being done. The defensiveness of the privileged gets old. The pugnaciousness of willing ignorance and blindness is infuriating. And there are times when I just refuse to engage.

Generational Differences: Quit Criticizing and See the Silver Lining Already

A friend sent me a link to this article in the NY Times, The Why-Worry Generation by Judith Warner. The opening paragraph:

"For the past few years, it’s been open season on Generation Y — also known as the millennials, echo boomers or, less flatteringly, Generation Me. Once described by the trend-watchers Neil Howe and William Strauss as “the next great generation” — optimistic, idealistic and destined to do good — millennials, born between 1982 and 2002, have been depicted more recently by employers, professors and earnestly concerned mental-health experts as entitled whiners who have been spoiled by parents who overstoked their self-esteem, teachers who granted undeserved A’s and sports coaches who bestowed trophies on any player who showed up."

 As an early member of this generation and someone fascinated by generational differences, I take issue with some of the generalizations and judgments that seem to run through this characterization of the generations. Yes, there is something of a generational communication gap. For the most part, Gen Y/Millennials tend to demand that we be treated as people and respected for being, while many older generations think that all respect and worth has to be earned. I have heard a good bit of talk about how superior "earned respect" is to what I would call "inherent respect", and really, you can hear echoes of this in the quote above as it mocks "undeserved A's" and trophies for participation. 

The problem with "earned respect" is that, well, it isn't. First of all, the playing field is not level. Equal ability and performance does not lead to equal amounts of respect when it straddles the privileged/marginalized divide. Furthermore, if respect and worthiness has to be earned, it means that people start as unworthy and not respected, meaning that they are expendable. In other words, those who have not yet earned respect (from a biased system) are not yet people. 

You can hear these judgments of unworthiness in the article's choice of language, which uses words like "unmanageable", "narcissistic", "irrational exuberance", and "group psychosis." This language is belittling, judgmental, and is meant to put uppity Gen Y in its place, which is at the bottom of the pecking order and crazy to boot. 

From an older generational point of view, this makes sense. Given that life is inherently hierarchical, that any particular person is a nobody until they prove themselves in a rigged and flawed system, and that everyone has to follow the arbitrary rules of said system, it all works. I contend, however, that my generation is coming in with a different philosophical foundation altogether. 

I think we believe two key things that are turning out to be revolutionary as we enter the workforce. First, we believe that respect and worthiness is inherent. We are people, we are here, and we demand that we be treated with respect. We are not willing to "pay our dues" as peons because we don't believe that we have to earn our place at the table. We don't think it is okay to be stepped on for a while in exchange for being promised that we will get to do the stepping on others later, as we move up the ladder.

Second, we believe that the system is and should be fair and good. A fair and good system means that if a person follows the rules that have been laid out in front of them, then they should achieve the results they have been promised. For example, study hard and make good grades => get into a good college => get a good job. It is almost unthinkable that the equation might be a lie. Instead, we assume that maybe there is a soft step in there somewhere, a "find yourself" or "define good job" and we work on that. Also, a fair and good system means that it will make us happy and fulfilled. It would not be a good system if it didn't.

Yes, we are idealistic. Absolutely. We also grew up in an instant feedback world, so we can go a bit twitchy when employers don't give feedback because we are unused to the Void. But this can be a good thing, and it is definitely a revolutionary thing. What better way to create and manifest a world of mutual respect and personhood where systems of achievement are good and fair than to have people who live and breathe those ideals helping to shape and create it on a constant quick feedback loop? 

So yes, there is a huge paradigm gap between the generations. But then again, isn't there usually a communication gap between the generations, and isn't it usually based on changing paradigms? It's the same argument as "those damn kids and their loud music" only with the volume turned up a little for our loud and exciting times. Why don't we all stop criticizing each other and instead try to form cross-generational relationships that allow the inexperienced to learn from the experienced and the slowing down and burning out to get a second wind of vitality from the young and enthusiastic? Makes a lot more sense to me than wasting energy insulting each other. It's not like all the young folk are going to go away, anyway. 

And lastly but not least, I want to express my discomfort and take issue with the fact that the article proposes to talk about all of Gen Y, that is, all Americans born from 1982-2002, and yet it only references college graduates looking to enter white-collar corporate jobs. Mighty classist, and by extension, racist, isn't it? For shame. I would also like to acknowledge and admit the fact that my knowledge and theories about my generation are based on my own white middle-class background, and are therefore also less inclusive and less inherently biased than I am comfortable with.

Behind the Curtain of the Single Narrative

I'm still not fully comfortable with how I managed to express myself about my admiration/enjoyment/envy of non-white aesthetics. I think there is something deeper for me to look at here, and so I want to try again. 

I subscribe to a blog called adipositivity, which posts a weekly photo of a fat (yes, that word has been reclaimed) person, usually a woman, dressed in whatever she chose to dress or not dress in, surrounded by (presumably) things that she loves or that represent her. I love this blog. I love it because there is a part of me that is tired of the singular cultural narrative that says all people worth looking at in media are thin. Seeing these photos portraying fat positively feeds me in a way I find difficult to express. I find it . . . yummy. 

The same holds true for when I see Barack Obama as president, or Hillary Clinton on the political stage. Personal political opinions aside, I feel fed when I see a black man in power among all the old white men, and I feel fed when I see Hillary in her salmon suit among all the blue power suits and red ties. It gives me hope; it quenches a deep thirst for diversity. It shows me that things are changing and other voices, important, capable, wise voices are finally being heard and taking their place among the decision makers.

I also subscribe to Nil Doctrine, and this post fed me, too. I have a visceral joy over seeing non-white faces in media, doing and singing and speaking in ways that are celebratory of themselves and outside of the stereotype-fest, limited-singular-narrative that I get fed by mainstream media. The way the light shines in Sister Rosetta Tharp's cheeks brings me joy.

So perhaps what I am really and inadequately trying to say is that I crave a diversity of people in everything and am impatient and bored with the singular narrative of people-worth-showing being white, thin, etc. I am so bored with it that my whiteness bores me as well. Almost everything my dominant culture mainstream media has presented to me has been about white people, with a few rather insulting niches prescribed for people of color. 


And in South Africa, I experienced firsthand how much more there can be to that narrative, how much more human we can be if we stop playing these racist and marginalizing games. I saw behind the curtain of the single narrative, and have craved the experience of more yellow and more hair in twists and everything else ever since.

Loving Twists and Wishing I Could Look That Good in Yellow

I've been reading a very interesting blog called Stuff White People Do. I have been working to educate myself on my own privilege and marginalization for a while now, and this blog has been helping me recognize some of my own whiteness. 

One recent post talked (in part) about white people's attitudes towards black hair, othering it, thinking of it as exotic, more interesting, etc., and wanting to pet it like a "goddamn dog". This struck enough of a chord in me that I decided to come here to my own space to ponder my own thoughts and feelings on the issue. 

The larger issue here, as I understand it, is how white people tend to feel a sense of entitlement to everything regardless of whether it is a white thing, and to feel comfortable appropriating or exoticizing cultural/racial/religious/etc. markers for ourselves when those same markers bring a lot of prejudice and marginalization down on the people of color who have them naturally/innately/natively (I don't actually feel fully comfortable with any of these terms).

I personally think that I do not exoticize most black attributes because of the time that I spent in South Africa in a community where I was very definitely a racial minority. I became very used to being a racial minority and to seeing blacks as a majority. I lived with a local black family and was very willing to have my American racial assumptions challenged. I very much enjoyed having my paradigm altered, actually. It felt like a relief to be able to talk about, acknowledge, and otherwise recognize race and racial issues publicly (yes, this is very much a white thing).

One particular opinion that I developed from this experience is that my particular skin color (a golden-peachy variant of white), does not go well with the bright color palette of clothing that I would love to wear (and felt inspired to wear from my experiences in South Africa), but that the same set of bright colors tend to look much more fabulous on browner or blacker skin. Even the beiges and taupes look better on browner skin than they do against my own personal coloring. 


I also am of the opinion that natural black hair is beautiful, and I am particularly fond of twists, not that I saw many twists in South Africa. I have several black (African American) friends now who choose to keep their hair natural (I hope I am using the right terminology here), and I love it from an aesthetic point of view. I also acknowledge that there is a strong political aspect to their hair choices, but I admit I do not understand (nor am I sure that I, being white, could fully understand) the full ramifications of it.


If it were possible to separate black hair and skin from the racist contexts of our culture, I would still have the same admiring opinion. And yet, I know that it is impossible to make that separation and so I find myself working to not cross the line into exoticizing or appropriating. I personally think that I admire many different and diverse forms of beauty in the world without assuming a white "normal" or any "normal", but I also realize how there is a minefield of racism and historically racially charged assumptions and language on this topic, so I feel very uncomfortable trying to navigate these discussions. I want to be careful not to do more hurt and harm, and feel insecure about the degree to which I have managed thus far to educate myself about these topics.

A Fulcrum for Deconstructing Gender

Gloria Steinem was in town recently and I had a chance to go down to campus to see her. I best liked the Q & A at the end. One thing she said is that we (our society) now knows "women can be equal in the world outside the home. We still don't know if men can be equal inside the home." She went on to say, "For men to raise children as women do is not a punishment, it's a gift."

This concisely expresses something that I have felt but haven't been able to put into words. I have followed several different discussions about the next step for men in the transition to gender equality. I have heard a young woman, presumably out of a third wave feminist context, ask older women, presumably from a more second wave feminist background, ask how women should be helping men deal with the ongoing shifts in gender dynamics. And I heard the older women reply, "Nothing," and explain that the men have the privilege, let them use it to figure it out. I have been a part of a Men's Monologues that was inspired by gender equality and the Vagina Monologues, only to see a lot of unexamined privilege undermine what was otherwise a rather profound and funny show. I have read some of the "Men's Movement" books from the 1990s, and I have read a few accounts and critiques of a feminist men's conference that was held last year.

The thought I have is that it is time to unpack the idea of masculinity and what it means to be a man. The feminist movement has done this with femininity and what it means to be a woman, greatly expanding the "definition" to include the spheres of in and out of the home and removing the boxes of assumptions around marital and motherhood status. This has not yet really been done at an effective societal level around masculinity, especially concerning what Gloria Steinem called the "cult of masculinity," which basically encompasses the harmful masculine stereotypes men take on to "prove" their manhood.  

And yet, unpacking something that big takes both a lot of time and dedicated motivation from the relevant population (who, notably, are privileged and therefore less likely to decide the pain of change is less than the pain of staying the same). However, Gloria Steinem's frame of the spheres in and out of the home makes for an excellent applied situation that gives a great starting point. 

One of the most effective ways women unpacked the social construction of "feminine" was by fighting their way into the workforce and up the corporate ladder. The philosophical project of unpacking their gender roles was not the main motivation, of course; far more mundane and practical matters drove the changes. However, applying this to the masculine means that men fighting their way back home and into the diaper bag could and would help effectively unpack the social construction of "masculine." 

I think Gloria is right: working towards reframing "men taking care of children as women do" as a gift instead of a punishment is a fulcrum that could help tip our social philosophies into a wider deconstruction of gender altogether. 

Status Struggles

An important aspect of all of my projects is a constant awareness of marginalization and privilege and how that plays out internally and in society. As a pagan, I am marginalized and have to deal with a good bit of prejudice and bigotry. There are other aspects of my identity that are also minority or marginalized, and I have been learning to recognize the marginalization and bias that affect my life and the lives of those around me.

Another crucial piece is confronting and acknowledging my own privilege. I have recently been reflecting on my privilege as relates to my attitudes and beliefs about status. Part of my personal privilege is that I have been trained to think of myself as always high status and to avoid status-lowering behaviors. I am coming to understand exactly how much of my time, energy and effort go into maintaining and proving status or negotiating status within personal relationships.

I have recently realized that I think about and interact with people differently based on my perception of our relative status. For people I consider to be of equal or lesser status, I am very compassionate and empathetic. I am eager to share power and hold space for all of us to co-create, to the point of trying to coax socially lesser-status folk into higher status positions and behavior. In short, I try to level the playing field as much as I have the power and resources to do so, even as I try to make sure that my behavior and strategies are personhood-affirming and non-patronizing, and that all interactions are emotionally healthy for me.

For people that I perceive to be of higher status, I am highly critical and much less compassionate. I want to dismantle their power and status, partly by coming up in status myself so that we will be equals, and partly by just tearing them down and challenging them. I am not sure to what degree this is a product of my marginalization versus my privilege, but I do think it is something to be aware of. Many people of "higher status" have a lot to offer a co-creative process and allowing my own status baggage to prevent collaboration is counter to my goals and values.

I recently realized all of this when I found myself post-ritual feeling very critical of members of my pagan community I had previously considered to be mentors. I realized that I would feel much more compassionate and understanding of their quirks and behaviors if I did not feel like I was in any kind of status struggle with them.