The Invisible Plantation

“I remember that I’m invisible and walk so softly so as not awake the sleeping ones. Sometimes it is best not to awaken them; there are few things in the world as dangerous as sleepwalkers.” – Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

It is not what we see that really matters; it is what we can’t or don’t. Gaps in our vision and understanding obscure things from us, creating blinkers and blind spots. Un-read articles; buried press releases; stories not told; events not seen; misunderstood words and conversations; and the many different sides to each story.

Harder still is determining people’s true motives and feelings – the ones they suppress deep inside. The effect of a slow and steady decay on someone’s confidence, not to mention their hopes and dreams, is so faint as to be almost undetectable. Just like a weather-battered coast, everything may look fine until the ground gives way. Why apply for that job you’ll never get anyway?

While the shape and balance of our economy may have changed drastically over the last two hundred years or so, what if the system we have replaced slavery with represents little more than a modern mutation conceived and built to acquiesce the liberal mind? Worse still, what if we have created a system whereby all of this is imperceptible to the naked eye?

In swapping fields for factories, the tools and terms of employment may have changed but the toil and division of labour most certainly hasn’t. Master/slave becomes master/servant, in the subtle blink of an eye. And easing consciences is not the same as easing the burden of others.

These are questions and musings, not definitive statements. But they should provide some context as to why I became irked to the point of obsession with the ‘last plantation’ phrase from my last piece, A letter to a friend. It is a powerful, stirring and evocative metaphor. Yet for all its inadvertent positivity, it is surely wrong. ‘Last’ infers a level of prediction beyond us mortal humans. I dearly hope it is true but, for reasons that will hopefully become clear, ‘invisible’ seems far more fitting a label.

Arrested development and invisible progress

People either refuse to believe white privilege exists, or are so unaware of their own mental vulnerabilities that the slippery link between our thoughts and our actions goes completely unnoticed. The overlapping nature of class, privilege, race and caste unhelpfully creates enough space for doubt, enough grey area, and enough confusion for people with vested interests to protect the status quo. They do so by either downplaying the extent of the issue or by overplaying progress. There are of course lies, dammed lies, and statistics. Anything can be proven with the right data set, enough time and some dubious mining.

We have progressed; this cannot be disputed. Slavery, lynching and forced segregation are all horrors of a bygone age and mark legal progress in righting the wrongs perpetrated against the black community. Further, until recently overt racism seemed to be socially abhorrent in the vast majority of communities.

However, one could argue this equates to the low-hanging fruit of racism. By no means meant to insult the blood, sweat, tears and courage it has taken from so many inspiring individuals to achieve such feats, but a much harder task lies ahead. Racism’s shadier, slippery and less tangible side presents a particularly challenging foe.

Small print may not be invisible, but for the scant attention we pay to it, it may as well be. For example, the thirteenth amendment to the US constitution abolished slave labour but left a loophole in for criminals, paving the way for industrialised and exploitative convict leasing. Given the current lifetime likelihood of imprisonment for white men is currently one in 17 versus one in three for black men, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out how this clause has been exploited over the years.[1]

In part, this is because the symbolic progress made by the civil rights movement in the 1960s was later undermined by Reagan’s war on drugs, Clinton’s 1994 crime bill, and ‘stand your ground’ laws – all of which disproportionately targeted black males. Clinton himself later admitted that mandatory minimum sentences and the three strikes rule associated with his bill were too harsh and caused unnecessary and unintended discrimination. A similar pattern evolved in the UK, culminating (so far) in a generally ‘hostile environment’ and the Windrush scandal.

If we change laws but not our minds, we will continue to exclude minority groups and use self-fulfilling tautology to justify our logic. Henry W. Grady’s notion of ‘separate but equal’ in the 1880s is a perfect example of twisted mental gymnastics. Worse still, the battered and weary end up internalising this negativity, suffocating their human potential. When you hobble – or ‘stamp’[2] – minority groups from the outset, it should be no surprise when they lag behind in the race. 

Decolonising the mind: Fighting invisible enemies and wildfires

The invisibility of this latest plantation is such because it is perpetrated in our minds. That much should be clear by now. The real point is we know so little about how our minds really work we cannot ever rest comfortably in the knowledge we have stamped racism out. It should be seen, as Angela Davis reminds us, as a constant struggle.

Racism feels eerily similar to terrorism. Just like a cancer, they both regenerate in new forms and refuse to die out. By morphing to meet the mood of the day, racism manages to pass a bare minimum bar of social acceptance. As author and campaigner Michelle Alexander describes in her book 'The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness’, “the cyclical rebirth of caste in America is a recurring racial nightmare.” She goes on to lament: “The genius of the current caste system, and what most distinguishes it from its predecessors, is that it appears voluntary.”

The behavioural influence of peer pressure should not escape our attention either. It is perhaps most vividly exposed by the absurd practice of generational judgement; that we, somehow, would have magically behaved better than those who came before us. Poppycock. The overwhelming majority of us would have put our own interests first, at the very least bearing silent witness to the great atrocities of slavery. Though hard to admit, very few of us would have had the moral backbone to rail against the prevailing norms of the day.

Our behaviour, good and bad, can spread like wildfire through communities and countries. At worst hatred, and at best scepticism, has been passed down through the years. But how can you put out a fire that you can’t see?

Our environments and upbringings mould us, and make breaking through the previous generations’ conventional beliefs and behaviours an exception, not a norm. Yet when tipping points are breached, as with smoking and views on homosexuality, consensus can swing like a pendulum, thereby correcting the course of public opinion and acting as a force for good as people speak out.

Invisible hands, scars and consciences

Most economists, until recently, have only been interested in one part of the worker’s value equation: their output or productivity. Once identified, the figure can be slotted into a spreadsheet and aggregated up to help track and measure economic activity and progress. In this sense, economists have been blind to colour; disinterested social outcomes like racial equality and singularly focused on the price mechanism of value.

Nobel laureate economist Kenneth Arrow recognised this oversight and in a 1971 paper he said: “The black steel worker may be thought of as producing blackness as well as steel, both evaluated in the market. We are singling out the former as a special subject for analysis because somehow we think it appropriate for the steel industry to produce steel and not for it to produce a black or white work force.”[3]

This was a bold realisation for an economist, and one no doubt influenced by the brave voices speaking out against racial injustice in the 1960s. Yet even the founder of economics, Adam Smith, understood that invisible hands were by definition conscienceless. He recognised the significant need for an organising agent (i.e. a government) to correct the sub-optimal social outcomes created by a relentless pursuit of self-interest.[4]

By (largely[5]) ignoring such moral market failures, the economics profession has cast a long shadow over society. The discipline does not operate in a vacuum and its limited world view has far-reaching consequences. In trying to reduce us all to predictable atoms, it has lost sight of its true goal: to help societies flourish and thrive. People, not markets, have consciences and social responsibility therefore lies squarely with us. The current infusion of ethics into economics and business is a welcome step in the right direction; let’s hope it is genuine and not platitudinous.

Today’s racism is also invisible in the sense that the scars and wounds it inflicts are diffused. This is perhaps racism’s greatest trick or triumph. If the surface area tension of each indiscretion is small enough nobody will surely notice.

Cheap, disposable labour epitomised by the gig economy and poor employment rights (sick pay, pension provision, training, and so on) is one example. Smartphones and app platforms that anonymise and desensitise transactions – a huge basis for day-to-day interaction – are another.

The economy is diffused in other ways too, making it harder to pinpoint the moment of harm let alone the perpetrator/s. Few of us see the inner-workings of the algorithms that rule our lives. From search engine results to AirBnB stays, and credit scores to housing applications, the hidden biases they either create or support are imperceptible.[6],[7]

Wage bargaining also works best from a position of strength, perpetuating starting point divides. And the public ownership of companies not only exacerbates wealth inequality, but also skews shareholder influence and who gets a say in corporate decisions and values. Economics really does matter.

As we, the white privileged, go about our unencumbered daily lives (for many, at least), we fail to spot the millions of pin-prick actions that sum together to inflict great injustice against minority groups. To throw the economics profession’s beloved ‘ceteris paribus’ phrase back in their face: other things are rarely equal; not even close. We cannot caveat away these ‘wicked’ variables just to make our equations neat and tidy. It seems that as our economies become more and more complex, so do their proverbial plantations. Key workers deserve more than a clap.

Invisible data and AWOL imaginations

One massive challenge is data, particularly at the corporate level. This breaks down into two parts.

The first issue is collecting it. Beyond the C-suite, getting an accurate picture of what is going on is very difficult and differing national laws around data collection compounds things. The UK allows it so long as it is not used to discriminate against minority groups. France, on the other hand, outright bans its collection.

In order for progress to be made, and voluntary data collection to be successful, we will need to build back the trust of minority communities to ensure they are comfortable handing their data over to companies who will handle it in the right way, i.e. to help, not hinder their cause. Only once enough data is collected can we tackle the second challenge, accurately assessing ethnic pay gaps. 

Though some progress is being made in the UK (according to Mckinsey), the opportunity cost to organisations of not properly embracing equality of opportunity is still huge.[8] The UK government published a Race in the Workplace report in 2017 which set out a range of actions aimed at improving employment and career prospects for black and minority ethnic workers. The report argued that ￡24 billion could be added to the UK’s economy each year if equal participation and progression across all ethnicities were to be made.[9]

The diversity deficit smacks of a corporate leadership failure. From McKinsey[10] to the Harvard Business Review[11], numerous studies have proven that greater diversity leads to improved organisational effectiveness, resilience and innovation. One thought experiment therefore worth pursuing is: How many inventions have we missed out on as a result of racial discrimination? And what might they have been? What world-changing innovations have we missed out on as a result of our prejudices and biases?

Lisa D. Cook, professor of economics and international relations at Michigan State University in East Lansing, has devoted a large chunk of her professional life to examining this very issue. Her work shows that as a result of segregation and violence African American patent levels did not recover to their per capita 1899 peak until 2010. As a side note, not only did she have a nightmare piecing together all the data required to undertake such a far-reaching and ambitious study, she also faced institutional racism when it finally came to publishing it.

Either through terrorising them, not hiring them, restricting their access to finance, bamboozling them with patent law, and/or not educating them properly we have effectively stifled the creativity of ethnic minorities; we will never know what might have been.

Magic pens and overground railroads

Julian Barnes once described history as “the gaps left between memory and record”. In the murky area between what gets recorded and what gets missed lies a grey, fuzzy world which, for all its elusiveness, is no less real.

The Invisible Plantation is effectively the gap between what we white folk say and what we do. And, as we have seen, what counts cannot always be neatly counted. Written by the winners or privileged, history creates a misleading and dangerous certainty, one unwilling or incapable of accounting for those on the margins of society; often leaving them ID-less, voiceless, community-less.

But these days we have no excuse. The hypocrisy and double-standards of the respective official responses to Black Lives Matter and recent US election protests are a case in point. The tweets, pictures and videos are there for all to see.

These issues are not really invisible to us; not anymore – if, indeed, we can ever really claim they were. They have merely been hidden in plain sight. But instead of piecing together the breadcrumb trail of evidence, we have chosen to look the other way and plead ignorance – busying ourselves with sport, shopping and other forms of light entertainment. Like ostriches, a form of wilful blindness to protect our sanity and cosy lifestyles. It is attention deficit en masse. Apparently our respective ‘pools of worry’ can only bear so much.

Many will remember those magic invisible ink pens from our childhoods. Well, it is time to dust them off and start scribbling. We will uncover an array of stories, whose contours, traces and indents have been there all along just waiting for us to muster the presence of mind and courage to look. Most of what we find will be uncomfortable.

On reading them, my hope is we will be converted into way stations and refuge harbours for those on the modern-day escape railroad. Through our words, our voices and our actions we can help to tip the scales to favour the oppressed minorities. And by piping calming and uplifting gospel-like chords through social media, we might be able to drown out the discordant and divisive hate speech. For a time, this could require us being twice as nice[12] and even adopting some positive discrimination to help balance the books.

Given what is at stake it is incumbent on all of us to at least try disentangle and decolonise the behavioural tics and quirks that flow from our respective thought factories. It is the least we can do.

Tangible solutions

We can do far more than allyship though. Opening up our educational syllabuses is a no brainer. The young are impressionistic and to not do so would be irresponsible, creating lasting biases that will trickle down through generations – just as they did for ours. This doesn’t have to be at the expense of more traditional teachings, and can instead enrich what we teach already. Learning that there are multiple sides to a story is a sure-fire way to prepare young adults for the big bad world that awaits them.

There is also a grave misconception that colour-blindness is the endgame goal with racial equality. Purported by people who say ‘I don’t see colour’ and ‘I treat everyone the same’, this is na?ve and unhelpful. Instead, we should embrace and celebrate cultural difference and start teaching this mindset at schools – all the while reminding kids that our DNA structure is fundamentally the same. Some encouraging pilot programs exist, yet it is dispiriting to see resistance to syllabus change in the US and UK.

In the workplace, progress is already underway with unconscious bias training, blind CV reviews, amendments to HR policy and hiring practices. Each industry will be at a different maturity stage but the hardest kink to resolve will be the invisible racial progression ceiling. Ensuring equality of progression through organisations will require inspiring leadership role models and inclusive cultures; just onboarding ethnic minority employees is not enough. Mentoring and reverse mentoring initiatives should also make a difference.

The government’s role is clearly significant, too. Government should be setting the example and racial profiling by the police is the opposite of what we need. And while complex and hard to prove, they are duty-bound to make sure their behaviour is of the highest ethical and moral standard. Transparent and independent audits will be key.

McKinsey’s recent research on racial justice offers some policy insights. They suggest data collection and algorithms should include proportionate representation of minority groups, overall access to digital technologies should be broadened, employment levels could be improved through targeted job-matching programs, and small businesses and the self-employed should be given appropriate access to finance.[13]

We could also learn from behavioural finance. Given the forces of social conformity run both ways, by tipping perceptions enough in the right direction we can help reinforce positive and open-minded behaviour. Each of us play a critical role as none of us can know if we are the marginal voice that tips the scale. Neighbours should feel guilty if their neighbourhood lacks diversity; managers should question their biases if their teams lack it; and consumers should vote with their feet if companies do not live up to their moral and ethical responsibilities.

True diversity means moving beyond monoculture. In McKinsey’s words: “The task is daunting but doable”.[14]

The songlines of caged birds

If the consequences caused by the arbitrary hierarchies of our biological lottery are still unrecognisable to us, then perhaps we could try another tack. After all, when one sense fails us, the others should heighten to compensate.

Music is innately connected to race and culture. It also expresses what words alone cannot make sense of. Whether it be straight blues, gospel, rap and R&B, or underground railroad songs, its influence and importance is unmistakable. It can lift the soul, bring joy and soothe pain. As American poet, memoirist and civil rights activist Maya Angelou would attest, caged birds may be behind in the race but musically they are in a league of their own.

The Aboriginals, another disgracefully oppressed group, believe the world was literally sung into existence. Rich and complex songlines, or dreaming tracks, are woven into their spiritual and ancestral being. No description here can fully capture their essence and true meaning. However, nomad and writer Bruce Chatwin, who coined the phrase songlines, tried his best: “The melodic contour of the song describes the land over which the song passes ... certain phrases, certain combinations of musical notes, are thought to describe the actions of the ancestors’ feet. An expert song man … would count how many times he has crossed a river or scaled a ridge – and be able to calculate where, and how far along, the songline he was ... A musical phrase is a map reference.”[15]

Their relevance is unmistakable. Acting way beyond a mere map, they also chart and record history, experience and culture. Chatwin, infused with Aboriginal wisdom, sees music as a memory bank for finding one’s way about the world. I’m sure the slaves who used Harriet Tubman’s hidden messages and codes to chart their successful escape along the underground railroad would agree. Many didn’t make it to freedom, of course.

Songlines aren’t confined by borders. Like birdsong, their notes murmur on the breeze and whisper with the wind. If only we could learn to embrace them though – however tentatively. We would be reminded of a time when both the land and ourselves were unscarred; a time before we managed to bugger things up with our selfish and tribal ways.[16]

It would be sacrilege, not to mention impossible, to offer a flavour of a songline here. So here are a few lines from a song, instead. A poor second, but it is the best I can do.

These times are hard

And it’s harder to heal

When where you were born

Decides what you fear

It’s time to be a brother

Not my father’s son

I was born to be a bigot

But that don’t mean that I am one

I put my boots on just the same

And when the day is done

I pray ….

For you, my son

How can I keep my mind open

If my eyes are closed

It’s hard to hide the hate

When there is no love to show

How can I nail a man up

For the color of his skin

Knock him down, make him pay

For my father’s sin

I am starting to see

We are all the color of the scars we keep

Ordinary Elephant, the band who wrote these words, neatly sum up where we find ourselves today.

The encouraging thing is people can and do change. Science is only now proving what thinkers and writers have known since the Year Dot: our brains are plastic and malleable. Our beliefs and behaviours can therefore evolve and grow. And though not all our scars are visible, they can all heal. So long as we open our hearts and minds to let them, that is.

On pondering the nature of evolution, Bruce Chatwin said: “I know this might sound far-fetched, but if I were asked ‘What is the big brain for?’, I would be tempted to say, ‘For singing our way through the wilderness.’”[17]

Maybe he was on to something.

[1] 13th (film), Netflix. 2016

[2] Stamped from the beginning: A definitive history of racist ideas in America. Ibram X. Kendi. 2016.

[3] The Theory of Discrimination, 1971. Kenneth Arrow.

[4] It is instructive that his co-opted ‘invisible hand’ term only features once in his seminal book The Wealth of Nations. It is also instructive that his first book was called The Theory of Moral Sentiments. Smith understood the intimate linkage between people, the market and society.

[5] It is unfair to tarnish the whole profession with the same brush. A few pioneering and creative individuals (such as Kenneth Arrow, John Maynard Keynes, Gary Becker, Joseph Stiglitz, Raghuram Rajan, Mariana Mazzucato, Kate Raworth – to name a few) have fought hard to incorporate the harder, less tangible aspects of social policy. Inequality breeds economic instability.

[6] Some Airbnb hosts discriminate on the basis of race, rental study says, The Harvard Gazette, December 21, 2015

[7] Removing Racial Bias From Credit Scores Isn’t Possible, Slate Magazine, October 11, 2019

[8] Problems amid progress: Improving lives and livelihoods for ethnic minorities in the United Kingdom, McKinsey, October 15, 2020

[9] Ethnicity pay gap as high as 20 per cent for some groups, People Management, July 10, 2019

[10] Problems amid progress: Improving lives and livelihoods for ethnic minorities in the United Kingdom, McKinsey, October 15, 2020

[11] How diversity can drive innovation, Harvard Business Review, 2013.

[12] People of Color Learn at a Young Age That They Must Be Twice as Good. Now White People Need to Be Twice as Kind, TIME, Savala Trepczynski, August 17, 2020.

[13] Problems amid progress: Improving lives and livelihoods for ethnic minorities in the United Kingdom, McKinsey, October 15, 2020.

[14] Ibid.

[15] Songlines, Bruce Chatwin, 1998.

[16] Having been introduced to Songlines, I now listen to ‘Sing me the outback’ and ‘This is Australia calling’ (both songs by white Australian folk singing legend John Williamson) in a completely new light. He did also write ‘Old farts in caravan parks’ so do with that information what you will.

[17] Songlines, Bruce Chatwin, 1998.