When it comes to social justice and the advancement of marginalized groups, the “politics of pity” brand of activism posits trauma as the salient aspect of a downtrodden group—especially African Americans. The idea is that playing the victim can be an effective rhetorical practice for achieving social justice, and sometimes it can. People may not help you if you cannot sufficiently prove that you do, indeed, need help.
However, there is a difference between pointing out instances of victimhood and defining an entire group as the collective personification of victimhood. Is a political tactic worth using if it necessitates the infantalization and degradation of the people it is meant to help?
In “Moving Beyond the Politics of Pity,” published by Quillette, I reference prominent black thinkers from the past and present who spoke against pity politics and for dignity and agency. The politics of pity are detrimental to the mindset of downtrodden people and normalizes their designation as pitiable.
Under this philosophy, black misery is seen as the norm. For many “pity politicians,” as it were, black joy is politically useless at best and abnormal at worst. The below excerpt shows some of the disempowering effects of the politics of pity on the very people it is meant to empower.
From my article:
The politics of pity render what otherwise may be beneficial and dignified practices as sites of racial misery. Restorative justice has its good manifestations, but, when applied to the politics of pity, makes bad situations worse by foregoing punishment for the most egregious infractions, and determining harm based on positionality. For example, if a victim of car theft is in a privileged class and the perpetrator is in an oppressed class, the victim isn’t truly a victim; the real victim is the perpetrator.
Educational reform is a potentially good and noble endeavor, but when applied to the politics of pity, it manifests as pedagogies like “equitable math,” in which getting the right answer and the very act of teaching are considered inherently racist harms to black students.
Agency is a good thing, but when applied to the politics of pity, it is something that simply isn’t available to black students. The politics of black pity may be a significant cause of what Martin Seligman and Steven Maier have called “learned helplessness.” This is how contemporary manifestations of the politics of pity put forth by teachers, administrators, and politicians “play the mischief” with black Americans.
The black thinkers discussed in the essay saw the politics of pity as formidable obstacle to self‐actualization, self‐determination, and general fulfillment. These thinkers embraced dignity and respect, not pity and condescension.
Unfortunately, a multicultural group of activists and politicians who claim to want what is best for black people are determined to make the term “black” or “African American” synonymous with “pitiable” or “miserable.” There has to be a better way.
You can read the full article here.
