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Senin, 24 Oktober 2011

Is the NBA Lockout About Race?
















Is the NBA Lockout About Race?
by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan

I thought I would write a follow-up to my piece, “Bill Simmons and the Bell Curve: The ‘limited intellectual capital’ of the NBA’s Players” which has elicited a significant reaction.   It should be clear from the outset, I am not interested in conversations about individuals, intention, or motivation.  To paraphrase the always-brilliant Jay Smooth, the conversations should focus around what has been said, what has been done, and what all of this means in a larger context rather than the individual actors.  The discussion needs to be about how ideology, narrative, and frames operate within these larger discussions. 

One of the common responses to Bill Simmons’ commentary and more specifically the criticism directed at me for reflecting on the racial meaning in those comments has been that Simmons was talking about all NBA players, not just those who are black.  Given the racial demographics of the league and the racial signifiers associated with basketball, it is hard to accept the idea that “NBA player” isn’t a mere code for blackness.  In other words, blackness and basketball become inextricably connected within the dominant imagination, akin to Kathryn Russell-Brown’s idea of the criminal blackman.  Just as the “criminal Blackman” exists as contained identity within the dominant white imagination, the blackballer functions in similar ways. 

The process of both essentializing and bifurcating the black baller is evident in the very distinct ways that the white racial frame conceives of both white and black players, playing upon ideas of intelligence and athleticism.  Whereas the blackballer is imagined as athletic, naturally gifted, and physically superior, white basketball players are celebrated for their intelligence, work ethic, and team orientation.  In Am I Black Enough for You, Todd Boyd identifies a dialectical relationship between racialization and styles of play where whiteness represents a “textbook or formal” style basketball, which operates in opposition “street or vernacular” styles of hooping that are connected to blackness within the collective consciousness.   In both styles of play, notions of intelligence, mental toughness, and mental agility are centrally in play. 

A second and widely circulated denunciation against those critical voices has been our lack of fairness or the double standards of this portion of the discourse.  Whereas I honed in on Simmons’ comments, little has been made about those of Jason Whitlock (Bryant Gumbel has been the at the center of media commentary).  Lets be clear: the comments of Jason Whitlock, irrespective of intent, are worthy of criticism in that his recent commentary plays upon and reinforces dominant narratives and frames about race and blackness.  Looking at his comments, alongside with those of Simmons, further illustrates the ways in which ideologies are circulated, and how commentaries such of these cannot be understood outside of these larger contexts.


A belief in the superiority of white intelligence has been commonplace within American history.  This remains the case today.  In one earlier study (during 1990s; see here for another source) about the persistence of racial stereotypes, the author found the following:

More than half the survey respondents rated African Americans as less intelligent than whites. Fifty-seven percent of non-African Americans rated African Americans as less intelligent than whites and thirty percent of African Americans themselves rated African Americans as less intelligent than whites. Sixty-two percent of the entire sample rated African Americans as lazier than whites and more than three out of four survey respondents said that African Americans are more inclined than whites to prefer welfare over work.

In a 2010 study about race and politics, researchers at the University of Washington found that stereotypes about blacks as it relates to intelligence, work ethic, and trust-worthiness remain prominent. Another recent study about race, politics, and stereotypes found that while there has been slight progress in terms of the rejection of longstanding prejudices, they remain constant within the national discourse. 

These studies point to the power of the white racial frame and the persistence of racial realist arguments.  Tim Wise describes this line of thinking in the following way:
  
The primary arguments made by the so-called racial “realists” are as follows:

1.    Race is a scientifically valid category of human difference;
2.   Racial differences are not only real but meaningfully connected at the biological and/or genetic level with important human traits, most notably, intelligence;
3. Intelligence is measurable using standardized IQ batteries and other mechanisms;
4.   Blacks are generally less intelligent than whites and Asians, and this is due to biological and/or genetic differences between the races.

Flowing from these premises, the racial “realists” argue that social policy should take these “truths” into account. This means that we should cease all efforts to create greater social or economic equity between the races, since they are inherently unequal in their abilities. It also means that personal biases on the basis of these truths — even those that perpetuate deep racial inequities in the society — are not unfair or unjust but rational. It is rational, for instance, for employers to favor white job applicants for high-level jobs, since they are more likely to possess the talents necessary to do those jobs well. So, in this sense, discrimination should not be prohibited. It should be tolerated, and seen as a logical choice given the science of racial difference. And certainly we should not take racial disparities in income, wealth, occupational status, or educational outcomes to suggest the presence of racism; rather, these gaps merely reflect the persistent human inequalities that cluster along racial lines.

As I read the comments of Simmons, Whitlock and countless others, I am unable to disconnect my reading from this larger social, ideological, and political context.   The larger discourse exists inside the words, in the interpretations, in the meaning, in the reception, and in the larger ramifications.   It is within this larger context that I read Jason Whitlock’s “Players need to stick to their day jobs

Referring to the “foolishness of basketball players” and players as “a group of spoiled, entitled, delusional kids who learned boardroom manners from watching episodes of “The Apprentice?,” Whitlock concludes that the players are out their league.   Arguing that the players are not victims of racism or David Stern’s “plantation mentality” (reference to Bryant Gumbel’s recent comments), he offers the following:

But these NBA players are not victims during this lockout. Not of David Stern.

They’re victims of their own immaturity, stupidity and delusion. They have the wherewithal and resources to stand toe to toe with commissioner Stern, but they are improperly using and undermining their power. Gumbel’s commentary on HBO’s "Real Sports" won’t help them realize and effectively utilize their power. It will assist the players in curling up in a fetal position and playing the victim.

That’s what we, African-Americans, do all too often in the aftermath of the civil-rights movement. We have no real understanding of the effort, courage and disciplined strategy Martin Luther King Jr., Rosa Parks and their supporters used to win the freedoms we now take for granted.

Here we see that Whitlock’s criticism of these “silly players,” “a bunch of kids with sycophant publicists and groupies,” who are acting “stupid” is rooted in criticism of African American youth.  By contextualizing the NBA lockout within a larger discourse of the hip-hop generation betraying the struggles, sacrifices, and the politics of respectability, Whitlock links this discussion to a wider discourse.  Playing upon hegemonic ideas regarding the American Dream, hard work, and disciplinarity, Whitlock’s comments also resonate with larger narratives about meritocracy and bootstraps ideology.  Writing about sports as a powerful institution for mythmaking about the American Dream, C. Richard King and Charles Springwood argue that:

The commonsense notions of the self-made man, and the American dream work against personal and collective engagement with the materiality of racial difference.  Individuals, effort, and ability to obscure the conditions and effects of racial hierarchy . . ..  These life histories map out opposite itineraries, success, superstardom, and the American Dream juxtaposed with failure, obscurity, and a societal nightmare.  They individual, they assert, makes his or her fortune based on his or her effort and ability.  The system is open, fostering upward mobility for individuals with talent, character, and DISCIPLINE (my emphasis) (2001, pp. 31-32, p. 34).

In other words, the riches, fame, and “the game” itself of the NBA are available to the players, even during this lockout.  What precludes the fulfillment of the American Dream is the “character” and lack of “discipline” of the players during the labor negotiations.  While blame can be spread around, in the end, it is the players’ fault.

Whitlock, unlike much of the media punditry, offers a level of honestly here, making clear that public discussions of NBA players or the NBA is indeed a public debate about blackness.

Another striking aspect of Whitlock’s column rests with his effort to invoke the metaphor of “the animal kingdom,” describing the NBA lockout as a battle between two distinct species.  He writes:

We ignore the laws of the jungle that we live in.

Racism, classism, sexism, power imbalances, etc. aren’t going away. They’ve been here since the beginning of time. They’re part of our flawed nature. No different from a lion’s nature to prey upon zebras, buffalos and wildebeest.

Have you ever seen zebras hold a news conference on “Animal Kingdom” demanding that lions quit attacking zebras? No. Zebras train their young in ways to avoid lions and other predators.

As such, the NBA players are conceived as Zebras who are subjected to the rules and laws of nature. 

Dictated by the laws of nature, David Stern (Whitlock ostensibly erases the owners from the discussion here), as the lion, will be the aggressor with the players.  Rather than “complain” and try to battle the lion (David Stern), the Zebras (the players) need to realize that they are incapable of defeating the more powerful, fierce, and fit King of the NBA jungle.  They must retreat and allow their lion to face-off with David Stern. 

The invoking of this rhetoric is striking in its imagination of the players and the commissioner as two distinct species with predetermined qualities, characteristics, and skills.  Zebras and lions don’t acquire their skills and place in the jungle hierarchy because of their own actions or training, but because of nature. 

It is difficult to ignore the large racial implications of Whitlock’s discussion of the “animal kingdom” given the ways in which biology and differences-grounded-in-nature have been central to racial discourse through history.    

In two recent episodes of Real Time with Bill Maher (one including Toure, who also discusses the matter), Bill Maher spoke about how the denial of racism has become the new form of racism.  The race denial card is the most powerful and widely circulated in the deck, evident by the fact that I as someone who merely tried to reflect on the racial meaning and implications was blamed for infusing, interjecting, and otherwise playing the “race card” (is denying race also playing the race card?)

“Racism” functioning as the denial of racism is nothing new (see Bonilla-Silva’s Racism without Racists) and so often works in conjunction with cultural racism.  According to Bonilla-Silva, “Cultural racism is a frame that relies on culturally-based arguments” (2003, p. 28).   According to Ben Carrington and Mary McDonald, “cultural racism posits that although different ethnic groups or ‘races’ may not exist in a hierarchical biological relationship, they are nevertheless culturally distinct, each group having their own incompatible lifestyles, customs and ways of seeing the world” (2001, p. 1).  Likewise Nancy Spencer describes cultural racism as being “predicated on an understanding of culture as a whole way,” which “has implications for racism in sport” (2004, p. 121).    While we can see both the “denial of racism” or the dismissal of the significance or race and cultural racism in its operation, we also see the powerful ways the biological notions of difference continues to operate within this context. 

The lockout illustrates the powerful ways that the black NBA player is conceptualized, imagined, and represented as a “‘bad boy Black athlete” (Collins 2005, p. 153), defined by being “overly physical, out of control, prone to violence, driven by instinct, and hypersexual”; the white racial frame ubiquitously imagines NBA black ballers as “unruly and disrespectful,” “inherently dangerous” and “in need of civilizing” (Ferber 2007, p. 20).  Whether focusing on “intelligence,” “levels of education,” “maturity” and “disciplinarity,” the NBA lockout discourse is a reminder of the powerful ways that the white “gaze” subjects blackness to “the prison of prior expectation” (Williams 1997, p. 74).

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He is the author of Screens Fade to Black: Contemporary African American Cinema and the forthcoming After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop(SUNY Press). Leonard is a regular contributor to NewBlackMan and blogs @ No Tsuris.

Jumat, 14 Oktober 2011

They Ain’t Wealthy, They Are Rich: Economic Lessons from the NBA Lockout


Shaq is rich; the white man that signs his check is wealthy.  Here you go Shaq, go buy yourself a bouncing car. Bling-Bling . . . . I ain’t talking bout Oprah, I’m talking about Bill Gates. OK!.  If Bill Gates woke up tomorrow with Oprah’s money, he would jump out a …window.  I’m not talking about rich, I’m talking about wealthy—Chris Rock


They Ain’t Wealthy, They Are Rich: Economic Lessons from the NBA Lockout 
by David J. Leonard | NewBlackMan

In headline after headline, in commentary after commentary, the NBA lockout has been described as a battle between “millionaires” and “billionaires.”  Reductionist in many ways, the effort to construct the lockout as a struggle between two different yet similar parties (the owners are not part 99% although some of the players surely are) reflects a problematic conflation of two distinct groups.  In “Why We Can’t Dismiss The NBA Labor Dispute As ‘Millionaires Versus Billionaires,’” Scott Keyes warns against the tendency to link and otherwise obliterate substantive differences between players and owners: “Conflating the two groups as similarly-placed economic royalists, neither of whom deserve sympathy from an American public grappling with a depressed economy, is understandable. But to create an equivalency between millionaire players and billionaire owners obscures a scarier picture regarding the players’ long-term economic prospects.”  Discussing the very different long term economic prospects between owners and players, Keyes points to several larger issues at work: the differences between workers and owners, the differences between a salary and an investment, and the very different economic futures of each group.

Yet, one of the more striking aspects of the media coverage and public discussions of the NBA lockout is a continued inability to distinguish between income and wealth.  This isn’t surprising given shows Cribs and media focus on player salaries. The danger, however, is quite evident.  In a society where, according to a recent study from Brandeis University, black and white wealth inequality has dramatically increased in the 23 years from 1984 to 2007, the failures to distinguish between the wealth of players and owners has a larger context.  Accordingly,

The gap between Black and white households ballooned during the 23-year study period, as white families went from a median of about $22,000 in wealth to $100,000 – a gain of $78,000. In the same period, Black household wealth inched up from a base of $2,000 per family to only $5,000. The sweat and toil of an entire generation had netted Black families only $3,000 additional dollars, while white families emerged from the period with a net worth of 100 grand that can be used to send a couple of kids to college, make investments, help out other family members, or contribute to the larger (white) community.

In other words, despite the accumulated income (some wealth) by a handful of African American athletes and entertainers, and a growing black middle-class, black-white wealth disparities have increased and that was before the economic downturn.  The NBA lockout offers a window into the larger issues of wealth disparity and power differentials and the ways in which race-based wealth disparities operate in myriad of American institutions.  The efforts by the owners to further the disparity in income and wealth, while very different given the salaries of scale, illustrates the level of disparity that defines class and racial inequality in the twenty-first century.


To illustrate this point, lets look at the NBA’s top owners. 

·      Mikhail Prokhorov, who is worth a cool 13.4 billion, owns the New Jersey Nets
·      Rich DeVos, of Alticor and Amway fame, is worth 4.3 billion; he owns the Magic
·      Lester Crown, who is worth 4.9 billion, owns a major stake in the Chicago Bulls
·      Mickey Arison, owner of the Heat is worth roughly 4.1 billion
·      Paul Allen, with 13 billion in net wealth, owns the Trailblazers
·      Glenn Taylor, owner of the Minnesota Timberwolves is worth 2.2 billion
·      Michael Heisley, who owns the Memphis Grisley, is worth 2.1 billion
·      The Los Angeles Lakers are owned by Philip Anschutz, who is worth 7 billion, and Jerry Buss, who as of 2005 was worth 380 million
·      James Dolan, the fearless leader of the Knicks, made 15.33 million in 2010, making him only the 55th highest paid CEO in America
·      Mark Cuban  = 2.3 billion
·      Ted Leonsis, owner of Washington Wizards, is worth 1 billion
·      Not be left out, Herb Simon (Pacers) 1 billion, and E. Stanley Kroenke (Denver Nuggets) 1.8 billion. 

Compare this to the NBA’s top players: Kobe Bryant (140 million), Shaquille O’Neal (140) LeBron James (120 million); even Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson, both long retired and focused on various business ventures, aren’t part of the billionaire club, worth an estimated 500 million each.  In other words, to paraphrase Chris Rock, if any NBA billionaire owners woke up with Kobe or LeBron’s net wealth, they would not be happy.

The billionaire owners, along with its other owners, mere high millionaires, all possess huge amounts of assets and wealth.   Yet, this only tells part of the picture given the amassed wealth of the teams themselves.  For example, the Mickey Arison purchased the Miami Heat in 1988 for a mere 33 million dollar; today the team is worth 425 million dollars. Similarly the Lakers and Mavericks, which were purchased 20 million (1978) and 280 million (2000), are respectfully worth 643 million and 438 million.  Even the Knicks, who haven’t won much of anything of late, has seen its value increase 300 million (1997) to 655 million. 

What is striking about the overlap between NBA owners and Forbes richest people in the world is the level of wealth and capital possessed by many of these owners.  Dave Zirin describes Ted Leonsis wealth as transcending the numbers of zeros next to his name:

Ted Leonsis also claims to be losing money by the boatload. The problem is that it’s all an artfully crafted lie. Leonsis and other NBA owners might be losing money on the team, as bestselling author Malcolm Gladwell recently explained, but that’s just one part of the story. It doesn’t take into account the mammoth tax breaks, the publicly funded arena, and the immediate real estate that surrounds their home base.

Factor those in and, well, there’s a reason why Ted Leonsis is a billionaire. To create the Verizon Center in the heart of DC’s Chinatown, residential housing was razed, businesses were shuttered and families were priced out of the neighborhood. Now instead of Chinese families, we have Starbucks and Chipotle with Chinese lettering above their blaring signage. As for “carrying the country” on his back, Leonsis might want to thank his army of minimum wage Verizon Center workers for keeping his ample frame in fancy suits.

He similarly documents the political and economic power amassed by Magic owner, Ted DeVos:

As co-founder of Amway, the 83-year-old DeVos has amassed a fortune of more than $4.4 billion. Through Amway, he popularized the concept of what is known as network marketing, where salespeople attempt to lure their friends and neighbors into buying products. Sixty percent of what Amway salespeople traffic are health and beauty products. The rest of their merchandise is a veritable pu pu platter of homecare products, jewelry, electronics and even insurance. To put it mildly, DeVos doesn't do his political business off company time. Amway has been investigated for violating campaign finance laws by seamlessly shifting from network marketing to network politicking.

DeVos has used not only his company but his own epic fortune at the service of his politics. He could be described as the architect, underwriter and top chef of every religious-right cause on Pat Robertson's buffet table. The former finance chair of the Republican National Committee, DeVos is far more than just a loyal party man. For more than four decades he has been the funder in chief of the right-wing fringe of the Christian fundamentalist movement. Before the 1994 "Republican Revolution" made Newt Gingrich a household name, Amway contributed what the Washington Post called "a record sum in recent American politics," $2.5 million. In the 2004 election cycle Amway and the DeVos family helped donate more than $4 million to campaigns pumping propaganda for Bush and company, with around $2 million coming out of Devos's own pocket.

The NBA’s ownership group exists in a world apart from the players, and most certainly the many workers who make the NBA experience happen.  The exist apart because of the wealth they have amassed (on the backs of the players and many others) and how that wealth translates into cultural capital and political power that not only impacts the NBA but illustrates their reach into all walks of life. 

In a brilliant article about the NBA, economics, and the New Jersey Nets, Malcolm Gladwell summarized the larger issues at stake here:

We have moved from a country of relative economic equality to a place where the gap between rich and poor is exceeded by only Singapore and Hong Kong. The rich have gone from being grateful for what they have to pushing for everything they can get. They have mastered the arts of whining and predation, without regard to logic or shame. In the end, this is the lesson of the NBA lockout. A man buys a basketball team as insurance on a real estate project, flips the franchise to a Russian billionaire when he wins the deal, and then — as both parties happily count their winnings — what lesson are we asked to draw? The players are greedy.
           
Yet as evident in the NBA, the process of blaming, scapegoating, and constructing the players as greedy emanates from a white racial frame just as public policy debates about welfare and the housing bubble have sought to demonize and identify blackness as the source of larger problems.  The nature of that inequality is in many ways cut along racial lines.  According to a recent Pew Research Study, white families have amassed wealth rates 20 and 18 times of black and Latino families.  The NBA lockout doesn’t merely point to wealth inequality and the failures of public discourse to move beyond individualize narratives that blame the other 99% for not being part of the 1% but highlights the ways in which anti-black racism and the structures of racial inequality operate within and through these realities.

Over this past summer, Michael Tillery masterfully laid out the plans for the formation of the National Players Association, which would turn “Kobe and his peers would go from 40 Million Dollar Slaves to billionaire owners.”  Tillery provides a roadmap to forming a league that “will undoubtedly revolutionize sports.”  Yet, more than providing a plan to bring basketball back, one that would change the sporting landscape, Tillery elucidates the larger potential in converting millions of dollars into wealth, power that transcends the game.  As Chris Rock reminds us, “wealth will set us … free.  Wealth is empowerment; wealth will uplift communities from poverty.”  The lessons of the lockout are not only the disparities of wealth, but the power differentials that exists between those with wealth and those without. The NBA lockout is not battle between billionaires and millionaires but one where the wealthy are trying to exert its will and power against not only its rich players but the thousands of workers who are neither rich or wealthy.  “Not talking about rich, but wealth”

***

David J. Leonard is Associate Professor in the Department of Critical Culture, Gender and Race Studies at Washington State University, Pullman. He is the author of Screens Fade to Black: Contemporary African American Cinema and the forthcoming After Artest: Race and the War on Hoop(SUNY Press). Leonard is a regular contributor to NewBlackMan and blogs @ No Tsuris.