Earlier this year, controversies arose regarding training programs at various government agencies, sometimes offered through those agency's Office of Women and Minority Inclusion, that touched on the concepts of privilege and white male privilege.
As a former chairman and board member of the National Credit Union Administration, I strongly supported the agency’s OMWI program and its mission to enhance diversity, equity and inclusion throughout the agency and the credit union community. The ongoing coronavirus pandemic has offered the opportunity to reflect on DEI and the idea of privilege relative to the effect of COVID on communities of color and economic privation.
Three years ago I received a 23andMe kit as a gift. It seemed superfluous at the time, as I had no reason to anticipate any surprises concerning my ancestry. As expected, a few weeks later I received an email announcing my 99.6% Northern European DNA, an entirely homogenous mix of English and Irish, with a touch of Swedish.
The decidedly lopsided DNA analysis triggered in me a desire to investigate the much-debated idea of white male privilege. Differences certainly do exist in the benefits derived by white males, relative to most others.
I steadily advanced in my legal practice and moved up the ladder to partnerships and corner offices. I was offered the plum projects that enhanced my skills and was afforded the opportunity to practice with the most respected partners and prestigious clients. I was invited to social events that opened doors to those who otherwise resided outside of my reach. Without question, I have never experienced any disadvantage from my gender or race, as I have always felt welcomed and as a person who belonged. Others have not.
Perhaps the principal advantage of white male privilege is that it affords the holder the opportunity to concentrate on his profession or trade without losing focus. Not one time, for one second, was I distracted from my legal practice because I was concerned with gender discrimination. Protected by my gender, I was able to read cases, draft papers and argue issues, unencumbered by such matters.
Not once was I sidetracked from my work because of racial, ethnic or religious discrimination. My whiteness shielded me from any such overt or subconscious harassment. Further, not once did any LGBTQ+-based discrimination or a disability create an issue for me. My straightness protected me, and I have no disability.
In economics, this is called a “competitive advantage” — that is, a factor or circumstance that places one person (or country or organization) in a favorable position relative to another. As a male, I have benefited from a competitive advantage over females and as a white, straight, non-disabled male I have experienced competitive advantages over many others.
Until recently, the white male privilege was the gift that kept on giving. There has never been a bad age or time as a white person or as a white male. It’s truly impossible to distance yourself from the privilege even when you try.
The world began to change for gray-haired, males (both white and of color) when COVID came to town. While COVID infects virtually all age groups, genders and ethnicities, adverse reactions significantly correlate with age. Most notably, the morbidity rate is heavily skewed to those over age 60 and, of that group, males fare worse than females. What has protected me in the past, threatens me today.
Lest we conclude that the white male privilege has disappeared in the time of COVID, it has not. I write this from my home in a leafy community where my partner and I have sequestered for the past seven months. Our paychecks and health care have continued and our professional lives function seamlessly in a world of virtual meetings and home offices. Although we are at an enhanced risk because of our ages and my gender, we’re able to respond prudently to the risks presented.
The COVID pandemic has caused communities to splinter along the lines of economic privilege. The financially secure are less likely to leave their homes unless their protection is assured. In marked contrast, essential workers and the working poor have had little choice but to venture into harm’s way, as few viable options exist for those who maintain the core components of our society.
This bifurcation between the haves and the have-nots has engendered a particularly deleterious effect on communities of color. Although older white men suffer and succumb to COVID at a higher rate than many others, older and younger African American men and women often fare worse. Presenting at a hospital as a person of color with COVID offers the heightened likelihood of a problematic outcome as the distinctions of race and ethnicity, separate and apart, carry a formidable disability. While Latinos often fare better than African Americans, their prognosis generally falls below that of whites.
It’s hardly surprising that persons of color and economic privation experience worse results from a COVID diagnosis than what the white community has witnessed. When coupled with underlying medical challenges, housing and food insecurity, personal safety and financial stress, unemployment and a lifetime of fighting systemic racism, the grim COVID-related morbidity statistics for African Americans and other persons of color fall out with an unsurprising thud. The common denominator of poverty, as manifest in a world of racism and the challenges of social justice, serves as an unlikely source of inspiration and strength for an immune system under stress from COVID.
The pandemic's final carnage will most assuredly fall disproportionately on persons of color, those of poverty and those without privilege. It remains an open question whether the largely white elites will use COVID — as well as the
The DEI programs of OMWI — together with other public and private-sector initiatives — will, hopefully, help to level the competitive advantage playing field of privilege. That these programs may initially cause some to feel uncomfortable speaks to the necessity and timeliness, but not the inappropriateness, of their message. As a white male who has benefitted from privilege throughout his professional life and during the time of COVID, I encourage all members of the financial services community — and others — to reflect upon the inherent inequality of privilege and to embrace and champion DEI programs within your professional community.
