The horrific and senseless murder of George Floyd finally woke many white and non-black people up to the reality of life for black people in America. But why did it take so long? After all, this was not the first time a black person being killed by police has been caught on camera. Perhaps it was the fact that this latest murder was singular in its cold-bloodedness and cruelty, hence the shockwave it sent across the world. I argue here that there are deeper and stronger forces at play to explain why it took so long, and I propose a path forward now that we’re finally adding our voices to the outrage and anger.
1. Implicit Bias
During our formative years, we learn about ourselves and the world around us. We learn the language and go through various stages of moral development. We learn about the rules that govern our society, central to which are rules about race. We are taught about racial hierarchy both implicitly and explicitly. And the messages we are sent about race are reinforced through various signals in society: the makeup of our schools, neighborhoods or workplaces; movies; stereotypes; religion; history; politics; laws; even in the symbolism of color. We internalize all those messages and rules, and they crystallize as the beliefs and values that ultimately color our worldview. In the process, we develop implicit biases that affect our understanding, decisions and actions in an unconscious manner.
2. Default to Truth
Larry Nassar, the former Michigan State and USA Gymnastics national team doctor, is serving 60 years in prison for molesting at least 250 of his young female patients over the span of his career. In many cases, the abuses happened with the parents in the room and the girls confided in someone they trusted— an assistant coach, a counselor or even a parent. Every time, for years, Nassar was given the benefit of the doubt. Many parents confess that, in retrospect, there were many signs that they simply ignored or couldn't get themselves to believe. As Malcom Gladwell points out in his latest masterpiece Talking to Strangers , we would be wrong to call those parents irresponsible or to condemn too harshly those who didn’t believe the girls. If we understand Timothy Levine’s Default to Truth Theory, then we know that the reality is more complex than that. As the theory goes, most of us have a default to truth. When someone tells us what they do for a living at a dinner party, for example, our first instinct isn’t to assume that they are lying. Our default to truth is even more powerful with people in positions of power, people most of us respect and trust with our lives: police officers, health care providers or even politicians. In fact, we believe the people we respect and trust until we absolutely cannot believe them anymore.
3. Empathy Gap
Between age zero and seven, we are completely egocentric. We are simply incapable of imagining or understanding the experiences of other people. Empathy is not something we are born with. It’s something that we learn. Even so, we have no direct access to the experience of other people— not even those closest to us. We have no direct access to their beliefs, thoughts or emotions. We have no direct access to how they see themselves, understand the world and their place in it. There’s an inherent gap in our relationships with other people, and we can only bridge that gap through empathy. Our empathy gap is even wider with people who don’t look like us and those with different life experiences.
Alone, implicit bias, default to truth and empathy gap are each massive blindspots. Together, the mix is explosive and its consequences, lethal. It is that default to truth and the stronghold of our implicit bias that lead to statements like, "They were probably resisting arrest," or "They probably did something to deserve it." On the one hand, those who fundamentally respect cops, and trust them with their lives, have given them the benefit of the doubt despite an increasing number of those murders being caught on camera. On the other hand, those in the black community have developed a mistrust for cops, because they are familiar with police brutality. They have experienced it firsthand or witnessed it on a regular basis. Naturally, they extend their benefit of the doubt to the victims. Add to the mix the long history of systemic racism in America and the empathy gap that separates the experiences of white and black people, and you have the perfect recipe for a deep racial divide.
The murder of George Floyd finally, hopefully, woke many of us up to this painful reality. And now we can never unknow it. Our maps of reality are changed forever-- whether or not we choose to do something about it. The question now becomes, ‘What can we do to not only bridge our empathy gap but to also close the racial inequality gap?’
1. Introspection
Introspection is a great place to start to bridge our empathy gap. If we use our humanity as a common denominator, then we find that as human beings, we have more in common than we or society would have us believe, despite our apparent differences. This is the reason why empathy is often paradoxical in that the more we get to know ourselves at a deeper level, the more we can hear and see ourselves in the hopes, fears and pains of others— even if they don’t look like us or their experiences don’t mirror ours exactly. But this tool is limited for obvious reasons. As a man, I will never know what it’s like to be a woman, for example, even if I made it my life's work to become an expert in Women’s Studies. Unless you are a black person living in America, you will never know exactly what it is like.
2. Education
To bridge your empathy gap, you have to educate yourself on the black experience, from the perspectives of black people. Read about black history, for it is American history. Learn to see race for what it really is, a social construct with political and economic ramifications. Learn about racism as a complex and systemic tool of racial oppression, not just as a concept in which individuals hate others based on the color of their skin. Ask questions but remember that education is your responsibility. Don’t rely on the people who are hurting to educate you. If you are fortunate to have in your life black people who trust you enough to share their experience and their truth with you, don’t ever take it for granted. Listen and be grateful. You are likely to feel defensive and uncomfortable. Acknowledge this internal friction and fight the urge to run away or to defend yourself. Don’t police their tone and judge their teaching method. Just be
grateful for the lesson. That, too, is part of the work.
3. Action
In order for real change to happen, we have to use the new information we have to take action. To have difficult conversations. To cross the artificial lines that separate us neatly from others who disagree with us or who don’t look like us. To see for ourselves who our neighbors are. To commit to calling out racism whenever and wherever we see it. To use our power— wealth, electoral, social and professional status or white privilege— to effect change. We don’t need to become civil rights activists to fight for racial equality. Fortunately, many people have made it their vocation. But we can support the cause by donating, and by using our platforms and our networks to bring awareness to and amplify those efforts.
George Floyd’s murder sent us all into the depth of our souls and demanded that we reflect. For many, it led to anger, for others, guilt and shame. Wherever this introspective journey has taken us, it’s exactly where we needed to go. Those of us who looked inward know how difficult, uncomfortable and even painful it is. Unfortunately, there are still many people who would rather live in apathy than to feel these emotions. But apathy is a privilege afforded only to those who enjoy the benefits of the status quo.
This is a lifelong journey of ensuring that we not only condemn racism wherever we see it, but play an active role in eradicating it. If you made this far, it means you are brave enough to try. It means that you are ready to face how you have benefited from the current system and to understand what role you play in perpetuating it. It means that you are ready to start the process of bridging your empathy gap, which will hopefully launch you on a journey toward truth and reconciliation. It means you took the time to listen to the perspective of a black man.
