Let me begin by expressing my respect for the work and study of social justice. In my opinion, there is no more noble a goal than to rectify an injustice, which is precisely what social justice seeks to do. The objective of the social justice activist, as I understand it, is to achieve an equitable and morally fair distribution of opportunity and privilege, regardless of race, wealth, gender or any other quality people may use to accord advantage and disadvantage to one another. In this sense, social justice embodies the spirit of meritocracy and fairness that is the lifeblood of this country, and I cannot imagine more patriotic work.
That being said, the concepts at the heart of social justice theory are just as prone to being misunderstood and abused as anything else in politics. In particular, I take issue with the distorted understanding of privilege that has appeared on Duke’s campus. “Privilege,” as a concept has deviated from its original definition and taken on a meaning that runs counter to social justice’s fundamental principles of equity and fairness.
According to social justice theory, privilege is “a group of unearned cultural, legal, social and institutional rights extended to a group based on their social group membership.” The wealth of one’s family, one’s religion or physical characteristics can all be privileges. Equally important, however, is what the definition does not include.
The original definition of privilege makes no claims about the quality of a privileged life. Not everyone who possesses the rights that privilege affords has actually benefitted from them, and those that have benefitted did so to varying degrees. Furthermore, privilege is intersectional, meaning that a single individual may be privileged on one dimension, such as race, and unprivileged on another, such as wealth. To be “privileged” does not denote that an individual’s life is trouble-free, or even especially easy. Most people understand this nuance in an abstract sense, but in practice we believe just the opposite.
Consider this question, for example: do you agree that a cis-gendered, heterosexual male student from a family in the top 1 percent of incomes should be unhappy with his life?
Think of your immediate reaction to the question. What was the first answer that popped into your head, before you thought it over? Mine was “no,” the reason being that I associate privilege with contentedness, as I suspect many of my fellow students do as well. The opposite association between privilege and discontent is foreign to me, and so it felt wrong to think that such a privileged person should be unhappy. This logic is irrational, of course, because gender, sexuality and wealth hardly provide enough information to judge an individual’s happiness. Nevertheless, we at least feel as though the privileged have no right, or at least less of a right, to be discontent.
Now, assume that this same student enrolls at Duke University, where he learns about his privilege. How will his awareness of it affect his behavior?
One likely possibility is that he will begin to feel guilty. Inevitably he will experience difficulties and hardships, but he’ll be reluctant to share his experiences because of his privilege. Just like the rest of us, he associates his privilege with contentedness, but in this case he feels that he doesn’t have the right to complain. How could he, if privilege demands contentedness? Worse still, he might fear that even if he did share his experience, others would judge his problems to be trivial in the the face of his privilege. Instead of being able to share his experiences of difficulty or hardship, the privileged student feels guilty for having had that experience in the first place.
Admittedly, this is a hypothetical, and an extreme one at that, but it illustrates a problem which I believe occurs to a lesser degree in a large portion of the student body. That is, we associate privilege with contentedness, and develop the sense (if not the belief) that only the unprivileged have a right to be discontent. Then, when the privileged among us experience their own hardships, their awareness of their own privilege and the guilt they feel for it will pressure them not to share.
The result is that our discussions become less empathetic. Without the ability to be open and honest about their own experiences, privileged students that participate in discussions of social justice issues will feel that they must agree with the opinions of unprivileged students, whose experiences they see as legitimate. That eagerness to agree is not the same as empathy or understanding. In fact, it’s exactly the opposite. Unresolvable guilt, like the kind that privilege evokes when people misunderstand the concept, actually undermines true dialogue.
The trouble and the beauty of privilege as a concept is that it forces us to look at our lives in relation to the lives of others who may have less than we do. Then, it compels us to ask the uncomfortable question of how much of our material and social possessions we’ve earned and how much is the product of good fortune and circumstance.
This process should inspire empathy. As others have explained far more thoroughly than I will here, many privileges are the product of unjust and morally reprehensible systems of discrimination. The same random chance and circumstance that has helped privileged individuals to succeed has held down others. Those of us who recognize our privilege should do what we can to support our disadvantaged brothers and sisters. We should work to level the playing field for everyone.
However, understanding is a two-way street. While it is critically important that those of us with privilege learn to hear the voices of the unprivileged, to acknowledge the legitimacy of their experiences and appreciate their perspectives, it is also important that privileged students feel that they can discuss their own experiences of hardship, whatever they may be, without fear of being judged or having their own pains delegitimized.
Ian Burgess is a Trinity sophomore. His column, “from the mountaintop” runs on alternate Wednesdays.
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