Explaining privilege – without getting a latte to the face.

Sitting in an undergraduate class a few years back I remember the lecturer, a middle class white woman, asking each of the straight white men (SWM) to explain what they thought of SWM privilege. I yawned and most dudes in the room slumped in their seats. We were either unamused at the prospect of being labelled ‘privileged’ or unimpressed by a woman suggesting it, or both. She was one of those rusted on Social Justice Warriors that would often use her lectures to make crude and not so coded political arguments (and other ‘trendy shit’). As had become a pattern during the semester, I had already registered my ambivalence by getting drunk the night before. Some of the SWM used the pulpit to exhibit their confidence in confronting a female lecturer to disagree entirely with the notion that they were privileged.   

I never saw myself in a position of privilege to start with. As such, it was pointless giving the notion any further thought. I’m privileged? Lol, wot? What about height privilege! I am 5 ft 7 (does she not know how much harder it is to ‘pick up’, than say 5 ft 11?), my hair was falling out too and I had a 60k student loan and a train wreck of false career starts. At that time I felt there was really only one sensible response to a woman suggesting to me that I was privileged: Fuck you.

Though not long after, I met two young and unemployed indigenous women while out and about in the community. Their grades had been pretty good prior to leaving high school and so I suggested they attend a foundation studies course at the local University. As I was providing the link between the University, their home environment and social services I figured that they would do alright.  

In the week preceding their studies I took one of the young women to a social services office so she could switch her income support to a tertiary funding arrangement. Her case manager offered these words in support:

‘You do realise there’s a stand down period if you need to reapply for dole, don’t you.  What are you going to do when you drop out?’

My mouth opened and closed like a goldfish.  

Despite their initial enthusiasm, both started missing classes after the first 2 weeks. By week 8 both had left the programme despite one still comfortably passing. I asked them both what happened, and they both said the same things, ‘they didn’t feel like it was a place for them’ and that ‘none of their other friends went to uni’. The whole experience led to some painful introspection. I had blindly assumed that by bringing these young women into a new environment, a place I perceived as offering ‘limitless opportunities’, I had magically altered the trajectory of their lives for the better.  

Privilege can be loosely defined as acquiring an otherwise hidden knowledge of how to go about something, having an assumed competence or proficiency in something or having a more illuminated pathway toward something (that is less accessible by others).  I had all of these things on my first day at University: family members that had attended University, some even at the same institution; strong references from high school teachers; and an abundance of people wandering around campus who looked like me and talked like me.  As McIntosh points out, privilege is the invisible system conferring dominance to a particular group in society. It is a virtue of certain individual characteristics not of your own making (such as your sexuality, skin colour or gender).  

So where do short, going bald, broke af SWM fit into this discussion?

Well, let us transpose for a moment two persons with the same basket of circumstances. They are both 5 ft 7 and are ageing faster than they would like, both are deep in student debt and both have gone in circles trying to establish a career. Now assume that you could choose to be one of these people + a SWM or a Gay Brown Female (GBF), and that your goal in life is upward mobility.  Who stands a better shot at turning all these things around? Considering all the structural disadvantages at play for females, homosexuals and ethnic minorities, you would surely respond with SWM. And that is what SWM privilege is, a relative term. Your life could still be pretty shit, even as an SWM. It could even be more shit than every GBF you know,but chances are you wouldn’t know many GBFs anyway.  

So is there someone else to blame for not explaining that SWM privilege is a relative thing or have SWM, like myself, never really been interested in hearing about it in the first place? I don’t know the answer to that question. But the implications are important for election campaigns taking place in liberal democracies all over the world. Just ask someone like Jeremy Corbyn, whose own UK Labour Party is desperately trying to win back the support of working class voters who are now more likely to vote for the Conservative Party. Wait, what? So working class people are now more likely to vote for tax cuts and a reduction in the outlay of social services?  How the fuck did that happen? 

Is it because they fled Labour after being confronted with their privilege? Or, am I now the one making crude and not so coded political arguments?  

TL;DR?  SWM privilege is a thing, in relative terms.  I started wearing hats in 2010.

Why they can’t impeach him, yet.

Conduct a quick Google search of US President ‘Donald Trump’ right now and you’ll no doubt find someone of political purpose suggesting the real estate mogul and TV star is heading down the road toward impeachment – a congressional ‘you’re fired’ of sorts.  The catalyst for such murmurings was itself the sensational firing of FBI director James Comey a few days ago. Ccorrespondents were quick to compare Trump’s actions with President Nixon’s attempt to shut down investigations into what was then his own alleged wrongdoing. (Spoiler alert: Nixon did end up being a crook and was eulogized in such a way by his decades long adversary, the writer Hunter S. Thompson).

Be that as it may, impeachment can’t happen – not yet and not for a while – and not just for the reasons already stated.  It has already been pointed out that Nixon’s demise was not an overnight affair, removing a sitting president is a more convoluted process than the ‘slash and burn’ nature of the New York businessman’s previous experiences in the corporate world.  But institutional factors and constitutional due process are only part of the puzzle, there is a more thorny reason that only the most audacious congressperson would ignore before supporting the impeachment of President Trump: His 45 million or so red blooded, rusted on supporters.  Yes, his popular vote was some 63 million, but with every President there’s a core constituency and a soft vote. Trump’s hard-to-dissuade core is probably somewhere around this 45 million mark and they are going to take longer to change their minds.   

Such is the political culture of US election cycles, the executive branch (those who require the support of Congress and the Senate to advance their legislative agenda) are in a perpetual cycle of campaigning.  Trump has so far avoided questions of conflicting interests by having his business empire bill his 2020 re-election campaign for services ranging from hotel accommodation to golf clubs.  But 2020 is a long way away, what matters is the 2018 midterms and that is a campaign already in full swing. All 435 seats in congress are up for the taking, or more to the point, 435 Republican congressional primaries for some 200 odd Republicans who will likely be seeking re-election.  Add to that a handful of Republicans up for re-election in the senate, in the deep red states of Alabama, Tennessee, Missouri and Texas.

Democrats, many of whom still speak with a level of incredulity about the presence of Trump in the White House, have dedicated the past 4 months to picking apart each of his orange glazed gaffes and hypocritical backflips.  Meanwhile, the same commentators point to a decline in Trump’s popularity, some 10% since his inauguration according to RealClearPolitics.  They hope that as a potential indictment becomes closer to materialising it can be married to a swift impeachment process with the blessing of a voting constituency outraged by a man they once trusted to be their commander and chief.

Delusion is indeed a powerful drug, for every rant featuring in liberal leaning publications that seek to debase a man they claim has already filed for moral bankruptcy; there is one simple appointment that overrides the mood of Conservative voters:  Neil Gorsuch.  Long will it be forgotten that it was the establishment Republicans who stalled the nomination of a Supreme Court nominee until after the 2016 election.  It was Trump that promised to crush the Clintons and install a conservative Chief Justice – and that is exactly what he did.  Whether Trump had some help from outside influences is virtually a red herring in the minds of those still smarting at the idea that gay couples can order a cake from their shop (and eat it).    

So the political reality for Republican lawmakers is that Trump’s support is still strong among the very people who will decide the fate of such lawmakers in the aforementioned primaries.  The religious fervour of his supporters can be mobilised in numbers substantively higher than what has been accomplished by the Tea Party in recent congressional elections.  And like the Tea Party, he could quite easily direct his faithful to stand against the incumbents wavering from the platform of populist conjecture he rode into the White house.  While the Tea Party arguably peaked as a movement in 2014, and with only limited actual successes, it showed that incumbency is neither sacrosanct nor guaranteed.  This is now the blueprint for an embattled President, with all the powers that the apparatus of the executive branch of Government brings.

Unlikely you say?  About as unlikely as Trump Presidency, one would have thought.

TL;DR?  Getting your man nominated to the Supreme Court > Everything else. Impeachment won’t happen till 2019, if at all.