Tag Archives: Critical Race Theory

The Ideological Origins of Critical Race Theory

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Today we continue our review and dialogue with James Lindsay, Race Marxism: The Truth About Critical Race Theory. In the two previous essays we defined and set forth CRT’s twelve central beliefs. In this essay, we will turn to the story of its origins. In Chapter Three, Lindsay uncovers “The Proximate Ideological Origins of Critical Race Theory” (pp. 87-158). The sheer number of authors, books, papers, and different movements covered in this long chapter is overwhelming. I will do my best to summarize it concisely, accurately and fairly. But I cannot help but oversimplify. There is another complicating factor I must mention. Attempting to discover and describe the origins of any historical phenomenon is fraught with many dangers. Among the most obvious are (1) the past is too complicated to describe completely and (2) historians, despite their best efforts, harbor their own prejudices.

The Two Main Sources

According to Lindsay, “Critical Social Justice Theories, including Critical Race Theory, arise from a deliberate fusion of Critical Theory (neo-Marxism) with postmodern Theory” (p. 89; emphasis original). This fusion was accomplished in the 1980s and 1990s, mostly in academia. At a minimum we need to understand the essential features of three things: Critical Theory, postmodernism, and the process of their fusion.

Critical Theory, Or Neo-Marxism

Karl Marx (1818-83) claimed to have discovered the true science of history. History began with the communism of tribal society and passed through two other forms of society until it arrived at capitalism. The capitalist system will inevitably reach a crisis point wherein the exploited workers will revolt and take over the means of production to institute socialism. Socialism will naturally transform itself into communism similar in form to tribal communism but now worldwide. That was the theory.

But by the 1910s and 1920s it had become apparent that something was wrong with Marx’s theory. Capitalism had raised the standard of living in Europe to the point that workers no longer felt themselves miserable and exploited. The workers had adopted what Hungarian Marxist György Lukács (1885-1971) called a “false consciousness,” that is, they thought they were free and happy when in truth they were enslaved and miserable. The neo-Marxists realized that the socialist revolution was not inevitable. They held on to the Marxist belief that capitalism was unstable, but experience had taught them its advance toward socialism was but one possibility. It could also slide into fascism. Hence, the neo-Marxists developed an agenda of “consciousness raising;” that is, a program to convinced people who are relatively satisfied with their condition that they were oppressed in ways of which they were not conscious.  Marxist theorist Max Horkheimer (1895-1973) named this new approach to revolution “Critical Theory” in his 1937 essay “Traditional and Critical Theory.”

For the process of consciousness raising to succeed, the “cultural hegemony” of capitalist society must be challenged. Marxists must pay attention to the places in culture where identity, consciousness, and values are formed. Italian Marxist Antonio Gramsci (1891-1937) named five cultural institutions that Marxists need to infiltrate to cultivate a “counter-hegemony,” that is, an alternative narrative favorable to Marxist revolution: religion, family, education, media, and law. Critical theorist Herbert Marcuse (1898-1979), in the 1950s and 1960s, despaired of awakening the satisfied American middle class to revolutionary consciousness. He looked instead to urban blacks, the unemployed, and university students to form the vanguard of a revolutionary coalition. In his books, A Critique of Pure Tolerance, Counterrevolution and Revolt, An Essay on Liberation, and One-Dimensional Man, Marcuse outlines an ideological strategy for completing the Gramscian project of creating a Marxian consciousness as a challenge to the dominant culture. Brazilian educational theorist Paulo Freire (1921-97), in his highly influential book, Pedagogy of the Oppressed, packages Critical Theory in a form designed to liberate students from their “false consciousness” and create in them a revolutionary consciousness.

Critical Social Justice theories, including CRT, incorporated neo-Marxism’s critique of capitalism and liberalism, its theory of false consciousness, its strategies of institutional infiltration and consciousness raising, and its ideal of communism—all while re-centering its social critique on race.

Postmodern Theory

Whereas Marxism and neo-Marxism critique the values and knowledge claims of liberal capitalist society in view of their own truth-claims about a truly just society (Communism), postmodernism debunks all truth claims and grand narratives—including Marxist—as expressions of power. They are in effect post-Marxist as well as postmodern. The most famous postmodern thinker Michel Foucault (1926-84) underlined the ideological nature of all knowledge claims by using the term “knowledge-power” whenever speaking about assertions of truth (p. 127).

Jacques Derrida (1930-2004) considered language a prison from which we cannot escape into truth. Words refer only to other words and can never take us to real things. For postmodern thought, linguistic expressions, culture, social order, and law are “constructions” created consciously or unconsciously to acquire or retain power. To the unknowing, these constructions have the appearance of truth, fact, and reality. Hence the task of postmodern criticism is to unmask, to “deconstruct,” these deceptive structures. All of them! Those trained to think in postmodern terms see a power play, a conspiracy, in every assertion of truth, value, or fact. In Lindsay’s words, “It isn’t clear that postmodernists had much interest in doing anything further than taking things apart and playing in the wreckage, however” (p. 132).

At this point we are left asking how CRT can benefit by incorporating postmodernism. For in postmodernism, CRT’s central concepts—“race,” “systemic racism,” “Blackness,” “Whiteness,” “justice,” “equity” “diversity,” “inclusion,” etc.—are just as much power constructions as are rights, free markets, merit, and other liberal values, facts, and truth claims. They too must be deconstructed to reveal cynical masks for power, which would empty CRT’s rhetoric of its moral force.

Fusing Neo-Marxism and Postmodernism

Lindsay takes Kemberlé Crenshaw’s 1991 paper “Mapping the Margins: Intersectionality, Identity Politics, and Violence Against Women of Color” to be a pivotal text in the creation of CRT. As Crenshaw sees it, postmodernism’s assertion that all group identities, values, and cultures are socially constructed—a view called antiessentialism or constructivism—can be useful to critical social justice movements such as CRT. Incorporating postmodernism into CRT enables it to expose and deconstruct hidden systemic racism. But Crenshaw also sees the need for marginalized groups to maintain a strong sense of group identity. She says, “At this point in history, a strong case can be made that the most critical resistance strategy for disempowered groups is to occupy and defend a politics of social location rather than to vacate and destroy it” (“Mapping the Margins,” quoted in Lindsay, p. 139).

The dominant group (white people) intends the categories “black,” “woman,” “queer,” etc. to be negative and disempowering. Crenshaw welcomes the postmodern insight that these labels are pure power constructs with no basis in the essence of the people to whom they are attached. Nevertheless, these categories possess a sort of reality that must be acknowledged. Crenshaw observes, “But to say that a category such as race or gender is socially constructed is not to say that that category has no significance in the world” (“Mapping the Margins,” quoted in Lindsay, p. 137). Identity categories “are imposed, thus made meaningful and real, by systemic power and those who hold and wield it” (“Mapping the Margins,” quoted in Lindsay, pp. 139-40; emphasis original).

In this way, Crenshaw can embrace postmodern constructivism as useful in critiquing the dominant group’s justifications for maintaining its privileges without giving up the reality of marginalized group identities useful in the quest for liberation. There is a huge difference, says Crenshaw, between saying “I am a person who happens to be black” and saying “I am Black.” To say “I am Black” accepts the imposed identity but transforms it into “an anchor of subjectivity…a positive discourse of self-identification’ (“Mapping the Margins,” quoted in Lindsay, p. 138). Think of the way certain gay people have embraced the insult “queer” and turned it into “Queer,” a proud assertion of identity. For Critical Race Theory, Black identity is a “matter of lived experience no one has standing to challenge” (“Mapping the Margins,” quoted in Lindsay, p. 137).

According to Lindsay, Crenshaw’s contribution to CRT was to figure out a way to incorporate the advantages of postmodern constructivism while making the category of race-identity immune from deconstruction. The assertion “I am Black” is irrefutable. Thanks to Crenshaw and others, CRT is Critical and Constructivist, that is, neo-Marxist and postmodern. It can exempt itself from the critique it makes of others. Liberal accusations of racism in CRT or postmodern attempts to deconstruct it will be interpreted as manifestations of systemic racism and white supremacy.

Wake Up, Push Back, Speak Out: A Review of America’s Cultural Revolution (Part Five)—Conclusion

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Today I will conclude my review of Christopher F. Rufo: America’s Cultural Revolution: How the Radical Left Conquered Everything (Broadside Books, 2023). Again, I want to recommend that you read this book for yourself. If you want to understand the cultural-political situation in America, if you have children in school or young adults in college or graduate school, if you are a college student, if you are a teacher or a professor…you need to read to this book!

Conclusion: The Counter-Revolution to Come

The “Long March” of the New Left through American institutions is almost complete. The critical theory of Herbert Marcuse, Angela Davis’s politics of violence, the critical pedagogy inspired by Paulo Freire, and Derrick Bell’s critical race theory dominate American education from kindergarten to graduate school, government agencies, and corporate America. Has the revolution succeeded? Have the neo-Marxists won? Have we reached the point of no return? In his final chapter, Rufo counsels against despair and charts a course for counter-revolution.

1. Counter-revolutionaries must expose the theoretical weaknesses of neo-Marxist critical theory. Marcuse, Davis, Freire, and Bell devised plans for destroying the traditional institutions of free enterprise, property, family, and religion, but they offer nothing but utopian dreams to put in their place. They divide people into evil oppressors and the virtuous oppressed according to race, sexual orientation, and gender. But they cannot summon a moral force strong enough to reunite what they have torn apart. The New Left can destroy but it cannot build. Their motto is “destroy it, and something better will come.” But it never does.

2. Marxism has failed everywhere it has been tried: Stalin’s Soviet Union, Mao’s China, Cabral’s Guinea-Bissau, and Castro’s Cuba. Human beings resist giving up property, family, religion, merit, and privacy. Only a ruthless, totalitarian dictatorship can enforce such an anti-human regime. In the end, the supposedly idealistic revolutionaries, observes Rufo,

simply want their cut. The looters get a box of sneakers and a flat-screen television. The intellectuals get permanent sinecures in the universities. The activists get a ransom payment, disguised as a philanthropic contribution, from corporations and the local government (p. 275).

3. The New Left’s hold on American institutions, Rufo reminds us, “is a creature of the state, completely subsidized by the public through direct financing, university loan schemes, bureaucratic captures, and the civil rights regulatory apparatus.” Its power does not arise from the hearts of the people. “With sufficient will they [the institutions] can be reformed, redirected, or abolished through the democratic process. What the public giveth, the public can taketh away” (p. 270).

4. The New Left proclaims itself the champion of “the people.” In fact, however, the neo-Marxist elites despise “the people.” According to Rufo, the New Left is not really the champion of the oppressed against the oppressors. It is the champion of an “ideological regime” of gnostic-like arbiters of privilege over against the common “citizen.” It is to the “citizen” we must look for counter-revolutionary energy. The counter-revolution, explains Rufo,

is a revolution against: against utopia, against collectivism, against racial reduction, against the infinite plasticity of human nature. But it is also a revolution for: for the return of natural right, the Constitution, and the dignity of the individual” (p. 280). The counter-revolution must champion the “values of the common man: family, faith, work, community, country (p. 281).

The counter-revolution must assert “excellence over diversity, equality over equity, dignity over inclusion, order over chaos” (p. 281). “The anti-democratic structures—the DEI departments and the captured bureaucracies—must be dismantled and turned to dust” (p. 281).

Next Time: I will bring a Christian perspective to bear on America’s cultural revolution, exploring some possibilities for counter-revolution in higher education, with Christian colleges and universities leading the way.

 Are (White) Evangelicals Heretics? (A New Christianity, Part 4)

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This post concludes my four-part review of David P. Gushee, After Evangelicalism: The Path to a New Christianity. Gushee’s last two chapters cover politics and race.

8. Politics: Starting Over After White Evangelicalism’s Embrace of Trumpism

The title of this chapter pretty much sums up its contents. In Gushee’s estimation, evangelicals’ overwhelming support for Donald Trump in the 2016 presidential election demonstrates beyond dispute their estrangement from the gospel of the kingdom that Jesus preached. It surfaced evangelicalism’s long-present undercurrent of “racism, sexism, nationalism, xenophobia, and indifference to ecology and the poor” (p. 144). According to Gushee, after Trump we must rethink Christian political involvement from the ground up. Gushee proposes seven “marks of healthy Christian politics” to guide this project (p. 149). They are as follows:

[1] A distinctive Christian identity, [2] action based on hope not fear, [3] critical distance from earthly powers, [4] grounding in the broad Christian social teaching, [5] global perspectives, [6] orientation toward serving God’s kingdom and the common good, and [7] efforts to practice what we preach (p. 149).

As is true of many lists of general principles, there is not much to quarrel with at the abstract level. (However for reasons that most readers will find obvious, marks 4, 5, and 6 worry me a bit.) But in his exposition of these marks he accuses white evangelicals of violating all seven egregiously. Moreover he implies that a truly Christian politics would lean leftward on the American political spectrum. The devil is always in the details.

9. Unveiling and Ending White-Supremacist Christianity

At the very beginning of this chapter Gushee lets us know that he accepts the thesis that in its founding and at its core the United States of America is systemically racist. The first words in this chapter are taken from Yale University theologian Eboni Marshall Turman; “White Christianity in America was born in heresy” (p. 151). Though Gushee does not say this in so many words, he writes as if white people have no right to a perspective on race. They are blind to their white privilege and the harm they have inflicted on people of color. Hence we must “rethink everything by listening to people of color” (p. 162). White people should listen and not argue.

Post-evangelicals must adopt “a fully antiracist way of life” (p. 167). The footnote that follows this sentence refers to Ibram X. Kendi, How to Be an Antiracist, which I reviewed on this blog in December 2020. I think I am safe in assuming that Gushee accepts Kendi’s definitions of racism and antiracism (See my review of Kendi). I will end my summary of this chapter with some of Gushee’s concluding remarks and a brief reflection:

I am so very late in saying all this.

I am appalled at my lateness…

And when exactly did I see that white American Christianity was born in heresy, and that my polite center-left self has been complicit in it? About five minutes ago. More precisely, about the day after Donald Trump’s election and the great reveal of the evangelical 81 percent.

It must be that dealing with the white European American Christian racism is the most threatening challenge of all. It must be that the horror is too great, the shame too awful, for many of us white guys to want to look over in that direction if we can avoid it.

I am sorry. So very sorry. I believe I have begun to repent. Whether I have succeeded in doing so will be judged by others, and by Christ himself (pp. 167-68).

Two Comments

1. Gushee applies a principle to the subject of race that he applies also to the issue of LGBTQ affirmation, feminism, and other contemporary issues of importance to progressive Christians:

Those defined as poor, powerless, and oppressed know and speak the truth whereas those defined as rich, powerful, and oppressors are blind to the truth and can speak only lies.

This principle in one form or another drives the logic of contemporary progressive Christianity. It is seductive and insidious in its appeal to emotion and (white, straight, male) guilt. But it will not pass the test of examination by reason or Christian doctrine. As to the first, no one is competent to judge themselves, rich or poor, powerful or powerless, oppressed or oppressor. No one can see their own sins as others see them, and no one can see the sins of others as God sees them. No solution on race will be achieved by canonizing only one group’s judgments. As to the second test, we must never forget that “all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (Romans 3:23). Rich or poor, powerful or powerless, oppressed or oppressor, each group is tempted in its own way, and each group sins in its own way. All need forgiveness.

2. I find Gushee’s self-loathing apology quoted above very off-putting. Not that I doubt its sincerity. To the contrary, it is its sincerity that bothers me most. He apologizes tearfully to no one in particular and for no particular racist act. He implies, rather, that he is not guilty of that kind of act. He seems, instead, to be apologizing for being white and for his past thoughtless enjoyment of the privileges his whiteness gave him.* His words express an inner shame that can never be forgiven or removed, only atoned for by a periodic sacrifice of confession. For he cannot but continue to enjoy his privilege—it comes with being white!—only now he does so in a mood of guilt and shame. Such is the nature of what is called “white guilt.” I do not believe it is a good foundation for racial reconciliation in society or in the church. There is much more to be said on this topic. Perhaps on another occasion.

*By apologizing for his whiteness instead of his personal sins, he drags all white people into his apology, thus arrogating to himself a representative status. His audacity in apologizing for the sins of others taints his apology with a mood of arrogance and makes him vulnerable to the charge of self-righteousness, or to use a common pejorative term, virtue signalling. I see now why at first reading I found his apology so off-putting. My view has not changed.

Is Diversity-Equity-Inclusion Philosophy Christian? (Part Five)

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Cynical Strategies and Kneejerk Answers

Is diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy Christian? Of course, not everyone is interested in this question. The answer matters only to those for whom Christianity’s endorsement or lack thereof counts as evidence for or against DEI philosophy’s ethical force. Sincere Christians are interested because they want to know that their actions and the causes they champion are at least consistent with their Christian faith. Nominal Christians and cynical politicians (right or left) often assert or deny the Christian status of DEI philosophy because they wish to persuade sincere Christians to join their causes. I am not writing to them. Seeking only to win supporters, they have neither the desire nor the patience to investigate the question seriously. I am writing to help sincere Christians to think through this issue thoroughly, critically, and Christianly and to arm them against cynical actors who wish to recruit them for their causes by convincing them that DEI is (or is not) consistent with their Christian faith.

Unfortunately, when asked the question, “Is diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy Christian?” many people answer affirmatively or negatively with a kneejerk opinion based on a vague impression formed by little more than the resonance of the words with their experiences. In ordinary communication, precision of language is not necessary. The context supplies the clarity that overcomes the ambiguity in the words. But in theological, philosophical, and ethical discussions—especially controversial ones—precision and clarity are necessary. Such discussions require patience, discipline, and thoughtfulness. So, if you are interested in the question and are willing to follow a methodical and (hopefully) thoughtful line of reasoning, please continue reading.

Clarity First

Let’s clarify the grammatical and logical form of the question before we rush to give an answer. What are we asking when we inquire, “Is X Christian?” If we turn the question into an assertion (“X is Christian”) we can see that the word “Christian” is being used as a predicate adjective, that is, as an essential or accidental property attributed to a subject X. The word “Christian” can also be used as noun, designating a person who adheres to the Christian faith, so that we can ask, “Is X a Christian?” or we can assert that “X is a Christian.” Answering either of these questions or sustaining these assertions requires that we understand the essential nature of Christianity. Clearly, then, to answer the question, “Is the DEI philosophy Christian” we must possess a clear and precise understanding both of the DEI philosophy* and of Christianity.

What, then, is Christianity? As I said in Part Four of this series, we learn the answer to this question only from the New Testament. No system of beliefs, practices, and experiences that contradicts the New Testament answer qualifies as Christianity. And if you disagree here, there is nothing further to discuss until we settle that question. According to the New Testament, Christianity is a faith, a hope, a way of living, and a people. Christianity is faith in Jesus Christ crucified and risen bodily from the dead as universal King, Lord, and Savior. The people who embrace this faith look forward to the resurrection of the dead and eternal life in the presence of God. In the present time this people, the church, lives as disciples and imitators of Jesus and through the power of the Spirit are being transformed into his image. Who then is a Christian? Only those who believe in Jesus Christ and are baptized into him. Who is living as a Christian? Only those who hold to this faith and live as followers of Jesus as instructed by the apostolic teaching of the New Testament and are being transformed into his image.

The Decisive Issue

In view of this clarification, to ask “Is X Christian?” is to ask, “Is adherence to X an essential component of Christianity or an implication of the essential nature of Christianity as described in the New Testament?” It does not ask whether X is compatible with Christianity. Many beliefs and activities are compatible with Christianity but are neither essential components nor implications thereof. Christianity is compatible with your belief or disbelief of the proposition that Subarus are better cars than Hondas or that life in other galaxies is possible. Whether you enjoy playing tennis or prefer hiking makes no difference to your faith in Jesus. These beliefs and activities are not addressed by Christianity but are left to reason, free choice, and preference. There are, however, many beliefs and activities that are incompatible with Christianity because they negate or subvert or are in other ways exclude one another.

The Judgment to be Made

When people argue that the diversity-equity-inclusion philosophy is Christian, they are asking us to accept adherence to it as an essential component or a clear implication of the Christian ethics described in the New Testament. If they are correct, Christians are obligated to support DEI. If embracing DEI is not an essential component or a clear implication of Christian ethics, Christians have no such obligation. However, if DEI philosophy negates or subverts Christianity and Christian ethics as described in the New Testament, Christians have an obligation to reject it.

I shall argue in future essays not only that sincere Christians are not obligated to accept the DEI philosophy and support its agenda but that they are obligated to reject and resist it.

*See the previous four essays for my understanding of the DEI philosophy.