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Key points
- We are in an era of identity politics, where people are defined by group memberships.
- These group memberships are often opposing, with some cast as oppressors and others as oppressed.
- Identity politics discourages people and groups from really listening and understanding each other.
In the aftermath of the attacks of September 11, 2001, the U.S. public came together in a way that few of us had ever seen before. A wave of strong patriotism swept the country, and people were flying the stars and stripes on their homes, out of their car windows, and almost anywhere else they could find. President George W. Bush had an unheard-of 90 percent approval rating, and many of us set aside our differences and focused on our shared identities as Americans.
In the almost 23 years since then, our country has gone in the opposite direction, to the point where our differences are being emphasized to the exclusion of our similarities and what brings us together. Many universities are holding separate graduation ceremonies for students from specific ethnic groups, and students from some groups are asking to live in residential buildings with only members of their group. Ethnic, gender, and sexuality-based groups are being cast as in opposition to one another. If Group A wins, then Group B automatically loses. Protests and counter-protests regarding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict have become aggressive and even violent, with students from opposing viewpoints threatening and attacking each other.
What on earth is going on here?
In our well-intended efforts to address historical injustices and grievances, we have torn open old wounds and cast people into the roles of oppressors and oppressed. No longer are we all Americans—now, we are members of specific identity groups, and the identity dynamics underlying these groupings have taken precedence over all that unites us. If someone says something that touches on a historical wound or grievance, even if the statement is unintentional (or even well-intentioned), the person who made the statement is often guilty of a microaggression—or worse. There are few opportunities for conversation or dialogue about what was said and why; the walls between the relevant identity groups simply become more impenetrable.
The idea of "cultural appropriation" has become mainstream, such that someone who wears clothing, or cooks food, from a culture to which they do not belong has committed an offensive act. In some cases, the intention may have been to mock the culture to which the symbol belongs—such as a "Cinco de Drinko" event earlier this month—and those acts should rightly be condemned. However, in other cases, the intention is to honor the cultural group in question. A woman who is not Japanese or Mexican may wear a kimono as a tribute to Japanese culture, or may open a Mexican food truck because she loves Mexican cuisine. These are likely not offensive acts. Humans have been appropriating one another's cultures for thousands of years. Gunpowder was invented in China, but people all over the world use it. Pizza was invented in Italy, but people all over the world eat it. Coffee was invented in Ethiopia, but people all over the world drink it. None of these products "belong" to the cultures that invented or created them.
One of the dangers of identity politics is that it carries an assumption of bad intent—that is, whenever someone says or does something that another group disagrees with or is upset by, the default assumption is that the person in question intended to hurt others. Since when did we stop giving one another the benefit of the doubt? Since when did we assume that human beings are inherently hurtful and evil?
Another dangerous assumption underlying identity politics is that people are little more than the sum total of their group memberships. Our individual personalities, likes and dislikes, and experiences don't matter. Only the groups we belong to are important. If I am White, Black, male, female, gay, or Mexican, those identities are assumed to define me. An individual person may choose to define themselves however they choose, however, and they are not bound by any of the groups to which they belong (or are perceived as belonging).
In his book The Identity Trap, Yascha Mounk argues that placing people into these kinds of categories feeds into our inherent tribalistic "us versus them" instincts—instincts that have been responsible for a litany of wars and conflicts throughout human history. There is no scientific evidence available to suggest that dividing people into groups based on identity politics will serve to improve the human condition in any meaningful way. Doing so may place us at one another's throats, however, which is where we find ourselves presently.
So, a question arises: how do we address historical injustices and grievances without being trapped by them? If my group was enslaved, evicted from its rightful land, massacred, or otherwise abused, how can I (and my fellow group members) express our pain and anger?
The answer is clearly not to tell people to stop talking about it. Decades of psychotherapy research tell us that people need to talk about their thoughts and feelings, and they need to be heard and understood. Much of what we are seeing now is the result of people not being heard and understood.
I would argue that what we need to do, more than anything, is listen. Let others express themselves, and ask probing and respectful questions to draw the other person (or group) out and understand more fully what they are telling us. Do not interrupt, do not get defensive. Simply listen.
But, as in any conversation, the party who is speaking must then be willing to listen to the other party when they speak. Conversations do not only go one way. The logic where "oppressor" groups are expected to be quiet while "oppressed" groups express themselves simply does not work. That is not how human relationships function—at either the individual or group level. If you want me to understand where you are coming from, you must also be willing to understand where I am coming from.
As any competent therapist knows, listening breaks down barriers lowers defenses and removes weight from people's shoulders. As humans, we have an inherent need to be heard and understood. But identity politics doesn't allow for that. We are not supposed to listen to people from the "other side." We aren't supposed to trust them. We are to view them with suspicion and be on the lookout for microaggressions and other acts of oppression at every turn. We are not permitted to relax and engage with another person who is not from our group.
Identity politics tells us that no one from outside our identity group can truly understand us, yet it also tells us that we are not supposed to trust anyone from other groups enough to really talk or listen to them. So, in essence, the tension and irreconcilable differences are built into the worldview. How are we supposed to learn about other groups if we cannot talk and listen to them?
We are caught in an eternal game of chess, with only kings on the board, where each side can make a potentially infinite number of moves without the game ever being completed. We need to understand the well-intentioned logic behind identity politics, while also acknowledging that playing this game will only make losers out of all of us. The only way we can win this game is not to play. We can help people to be heard and understood without retreating into mutually exclusive groups.
Yes, we are all different—but we have much more in common than what divides us. Even if you have not walked a mile in my shoes, you can listen to me tell you what walking in my shoes is like. We need to get back to listening and trying to understand each other. That is the only way out of the checkmate in which we now find ourselves. We can get back to the unity we experienced earlier this century, and we will be much happier as a society.
