“Privilege” doesn’t mean what it used to.
My conservative cousin asked me what “privilege” means to me. The word used to mean wealth, especially inherited wealth, but recently he’d heard progressives using it in new ways. He wondered: does white privilege mean the wealth that comes from whiteness?
His question showed me why some folks get offended by terms like “white male privilege.” People can get stuck on the word’s older meaning—since many white men aren’t wealthy, saying they’re privileged can sound like you’re ignoring their real struggles.
I explained that white privilege doesn’t mean wealth; it just means the unique benefits that come from being white. As Jon Greenberg writes in a powerful piece in Everyday Feminism:
What is White Privilege? The reality that a White person’s whiteness has come – and continues to come – with a vast array of benefits and advantages not shared by many people of Color (POC).
It doesn’t mean that I, as a White person, don’t work hard (I do) or that I haven’t suffered…but simply that I receive help, often unacknowledged assistance, because I am White.
This assistance runs the gamut from subtleties, like being able to find bandages that match your skin tone or easily find children’s books where your race is represented, to giant advantages like being able to expect a positive, safe relationship with most police.
My cousin appreciated my patience in explaining this to him. He and I have a good relationship, and we enjoy exchanging ideas about politics. We kept talking about privilege, and our discussion helped me articulate my views in ways I hadn’t before. I’m sharing our conversation here because I think both of us had valuable thoughts to offer.
“Privilege” can sound like an accusation.
My definition of privilege helped my cousin understand its new meaning better, but he was still a bit confused. If privilege is something you’re born with, he asked, then why do progressives sometimes use the word in a derogatory way? They often seem to imply that privilege is bad.
“To me, privilege sounds like a gift,” he said. “Or in Christian terms, a blessing.” He’s Christian, so this language fit for him.
I had to admit he had a point. I hadn’t said it aloud before, but I had privately been troubled to hear friends paint privilege as shameful, even though there’s nothing inherently wrong with a person for having privilege. Most progressives will insist that talking about privilege isn’t intended to shame anyone—but it is often brought up in a shame-producing way.
Often, calling someone “privileged” can sound like an accusation. In a 2019 article for The Guardian, professor Robert Boyers describes an exchange that occurred at a faculty luncheon, after a distinguished scholar named Fred Lawrence spoke on the topic of callout culture:
The first faculty member to raise a hand after the lecture asked Lawrence whether he was aware of the privilege he had exercised in addressing us. She spoke with conviction, and suggested that Lawrence had taken advantage of his august position by daring to offer his advice…
Though nothing further came of this exchange, it seemed clear that “privilege” had been invoked as a noise word to distract from the substance of Lawrence’s remarks… More, the “privilege” charge had been leveled with the expectation that he was guilty – not because of anything particular he had said, but because he was a white male.
People also bring up privilege to undermine others’ success. When I showed a friend Taylor Swift’s brilliant music video about gay rights, “You Need To Calm Down,” the friend agreed it was great. But as we gawked at the millions of views it had gotten on YouTube, she turned sardonic: “Well, I guess that’s what happens when you’re cute and straight.”
My elation over the video instantly vanished. And I was bewildered—why did my friend need to undercut Swift’s accomplishment in this way?
Privilege also gets brought up to dismiss the feelings of the privileged, as I described in my recent post, “The Case for Tending to White People’s Wounds.” Just because someone is privileged doesn’t mean their feelings are unworthy of care, but that’s often the implication.
There are many forms of privilege.
One reason it bothers me when people dismiss each other as “privileged” is that everyone is privileged in some form. Being white and male are far from the only advantages a person can have in life.
This realization first came to me when I developed ulcerative colitis at age thirty-five. Living with a chronic illness made me see a form of privilege that hadn’t been on my radar: health privilege. I didn’t know I had it till I lost it. Being able to thoughtlessly rely on your body, and to leave the house, eat, socialize, work, and travel without risk or anxiety, is one of the biggest privileges in the world. Only rarely does it get any attention.
As my view continued to broaden, I came to see countless other privileges that also get overlooked. Some get attention; others are nameless and nearly invisible:
- Being straight.
- Being cisgender.
- Being (temporarily) able-bodied.
- Being neurotypical, i.e., not on the autism spectrum.
- Being attractive.
- Being tall.
- Living without PTSD or other trauma.
- Having a house to live in.
- Growing up with two parents.
- Growing up with full citizenship in the country you live in.
- Living in a stable society free of widespread violence.
- Etc.
A therapist once told me she thought the greatest privilege of all is to have grown up in a loving family. She thought this factor, more than any other, impacts how challenging it is to find happiness later on.
So privilege isn’t binary—it’s not something we either have or don’t have. Everyone has a collection of privileges, and most of us have at least some ways we’re disadvantaged as well.
I said all this to my cousin. I’m glad so many people are thinking about white privilege, I added. Now is the moment for long-overdue racial justice reform, a chance to atone for our country’s sins and make needed changes to our systems. But seeing the world only through the lens of racial privilege produces a very narrow view. Even thinking only about white male, straight, and able-bodied privilege is too narrow.
My cousin liked this thought.
There’s nothing wrong with having privilege.
It turned out there was overlap in my cousin’s and my thinking. Both of us were frustrated with some people’s fixation on privilege, and the way it gets used to categorize, shame, and dismiss. If privilege is something we’re born with and is something we all have in some form, then it shouldn’t be a cause for shame.
I don’t believe most progressives intend to shame anyone when they bring it up, I said. Usually, those who mention it are motivated by compassion for people they see as oppressed.
He nodded thoughtfully. I could see that my comment gave him a bit more sympathy for people who bring up privilege, and it reminded me of my own sympathy too.
I see many privileges as gifts to be grateful for, I said—or blessings, like he’d said. But they’re also responsibilities. When I recognize a privilege I have, I see it as my duty to use that privilege to help uplift those without it. Healthy people can advocate for Obamacare, something I often don’t have energy to fight for because of my illness. Men can support women’s rights and empowerment. And as a white person, it’s my responsibility to support racial justice. To me, this is the main benefit of talking about privilege: recognizing our responsibilities.
A more nuanced view
My cousin and I didn’t agree on everything. Even after I’d explained it, he still believed privilege to be a concept that does more harm than good. Like many conservatives, he feels that too much focus on racism and related concepts like privilege is overly divisive and is actually hurting progress for communities of color. But I’m unwilling to throw out the concept of privilege—I’m glad people are talking about it.
And talking to my cousin made me feel that both progressives and conservatives have wisdom to offer here.
Progressives are teaching people to notice privilege. It’s something that’s always existed, but for which we’ve only recently had language. Naming it is useful for understanding inequities and helping us recognize our advantages and responsibilities.
Conservatives, meanwhile, are pushing back against the shame that “accusations” of privilege can generate. They’re cautioning that too much fixation on it gets in the way of relationships, healing, and even progress as a country. (A few folks on the left are pushing back, too. Bill Maher has a couple great videos about it, for instance here. My cousin sent me that one!)
To me, the ideal view of privilege is a marriage of the progressive and conservative perspectives. I think privilege is an important lens through which to view the world—but that there’s also wisdom in sometimes putting this lens down.
I love this article very evenly written. Recently, my teenage son spent months looking for a job, and landed one as a bus boy two nights a week. He was dismayed when a waitress told him he was privileged, therefore got the job, not that the job was a privilege, rather that his social status got him the job, and insinuated that is a negative thing. He purposefully searched for a job within walking distance of home because he does not have a car yet, and spent a lot of energy applying and asking around. He is a white male, and this comment really set him to researching political stances and commenting on the election. He sees racial and gender difference now instead of hard work and determination; he questions if he actually deserves his success, which in my opinion is very very unfortunate.
Christine, thanks so much for sharing. It sounds like your son is grappling with some tough questions, trying to make sense out of disparities, privilege, and where he fits in. He must have a lot of empathy and curiosity to be handling things this way instead of just becoming defensive—those are signs of intelligence. I hope he can find a good balance between empathy for others and pride in his own achievements!