What is white fragility, anyway?
The phrase “white fragility” first made the rounds in progressive circles a few years ago, then became more common after George Floyd’s death, when Robin DiAngelo’s book White Fragility zoomed to the top of the New York Times bestseller list. I think the term has its place—but I’m concerned that it’s getting misused.
White fragility is an emotional, defensive response among white people to the sensitive topic of racism. Here’s a definition by DiAngelo:
In a nutshell, it’s the defensive reactions so many white people have when our racial worldviews, positions, or advantages are questioned or challenged. For a lot of white people, just suggesting that being white has meaning will trigger a deep, defensive response.
I do think DiAngelo’s onto something here. I’ve seen white fragility at work, and it’s helpful to have a term for this phenomenon.
Many white people are uncomfortable thinking of themselves in racial terms. Just like members of other races, we’re part of a group with distinctive historical and cultural traits, but until recently we were conditioned to think of ourselves as neutral or raceless.
Some white people also feel uncomfortable with this topic because they believe discussions of race and racism are unnecessarily divisive. Shouldn’t we all just be colorblind? A few people of color agree with this view—but most often, people of color appreciate efforts that help white people gain awareness of racism and racial bias. This heightened awareness generates empathy for their common struggles.
White people may also feel uncomfortable talking about racism because they assume they’ll be seen as the “bad guy.” Nobody wants to be called racist. White people can feel insulted when these conversations seem to imply that they themselves are racist.
For all these reasons, defensiveness around racism is common, just as DiAngelo says. White people may become flustered, angry, or hurt over this topic, and these strong emotions can take over conversations. White fragility makes it hard to talk about race—which gets in the way of progress on racial justice.
(The term “fragility” has been adapted to scenarios beyond racism, too. “Male fragility” is another common phrase.)
Critiques of “White Fragility”
Not everyone is on board with the concept of white fragility. A few writers, even a few liberal writers, have lambasted it.
Most recently, in summer 2020, linguist John McWhorter wrote a scathing review of DiAngelo’s book in The Atlantic. He says the idea of white fragility puts white people in an untenable situation, unable to voice dissent or express any emotion without being labeled “white fragile:”
Remember…that you are not to express yourself except to say Amen. … Whites aren’t even allowed to say, “I don’t feel safe.” Only Black people can say that. If you are white, you are solely to listen as DiAngelo tars you as morally stained…
One might ask just how a people can be poised for making change when they have been taught that pretty much anything they say or think is racist and thus antithetical to the good. What end does all this self-mortification serve?
McWhorter, who is black, also says the book condescends to black people by implying they can’t handle white people’s emotions:
Despite the sincere intentions of its author, the book diminishes Black people in the name of dignifying us…. Few books about race have more openly infantilized Black people than this supposedly authoritative tome…. DiAngelo’s outlook rests upon a depiction of Black people as endlessly delicate poster children.
Calling someone “fragile” just makes them more “fragile.”
McWhorter and a few others have attacked this concept so stridently as to demand that it be thrown out. I’m not so sure. I do think it’s useful—but I have a few complaints about its misuse.
First, I’m concerned that when brought up in tense conversations, saying “white fragility” only escalates the tension. It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy: the more you use it, the truer it becomes.
By definition, white fragility essentially means defensiveness among white people about the topic of racism—but the word “fragile” is far more inflammatory than “defensive.” If someone is being defensive, telling them they’re being fragile is bound to make them more, well, fragile. (Actually, it won’t help to tell them they’re being defensive, either!)
So to reduce white fragility, it may be necessary to stop calling it white fragility—at least in the heat of discussion. I think it’s most useful when reflecting on one’s own white fragility, or when talking about such conversations, but not within them.
Not all defensiveness is fragility.
Second, I’m troubled by the way well-meaning progressives often mistake all white defensiveness for white fragility.
The thinking goes something like this: White fragility is defensiveness among white people when talking about racism. Therefore, all defensiveness among white people who are talking about racism must be fragility.
But this is incorrect. There’s another reason white people might feel defensive in these conversations.
White fragility is defensiveness about the topic of race. But along with topic, tone also matters—because anyone, of any color, will feel defensive in response to certain tones. This defensiveness is natural and even appropriate.
Political psychologist Diana Mutz explains that all cultures have norms of politeness, and that when those norms are violated, it signals disrespect:
I define “uncivil discourse” as communication that violates the norms of politeness for a given culture…. In what I define as a polite or civil interaction, participants cooperate to maintain each other’s positive public self-images. In an uncivil interaction, they do not…. In the political world, as well as in social interaction more generally, politeness and civility are not arbitrary norms of etiquette akin to using the correct fork; they are rules that allow people of diverse views to smooth over differences and promote social harmony. Following the rules of civility/politeness is thus a means of demonstrating mutual respect.
(Diana Mutz, In-Your-Face Politics: The Consequences of Uncivil Media)
It’s natural to respond defensively when norms of politeness are broken. Such defensiveness can be wrongly dismissed as fragility—but these norms are essential for a functional society.
Let me demonstrate what I mean.
A Too-familiar Example
Imagine a conversation between two white people, Ms. Antiracist and Mr. Skeptic.
“This country is so racist,” says Ms. Antiracist. “Look at all the police shootings of unarmed black people. It’s appalling.”
“But those police shootings aren’t necessarily racism,” protests Mr. Skeptic. “You know, unarmed white people get killed by police, too.”
Startled to realize he’s a skeptic, Ms. Antiracist turns on him. “How can you even say that? Black people are three times more likely to get killed by police! Have you been sticking your head in the sand?!”
“Yes, but crime rates are different in different communities…”
“Look, the police are racist! If you can’t see that, I’m sorry, but I can’t help you. I’m sick of your gaslighting; here’s a list of books to read. Go educate yourself.”
“Who’s gaslighting who?” Now Mr. Skeptic is angry, too. “I can’t say anything without being accused of racism! That’s insulting. I’m not racist, and I’m sick of being bullied by liberals.”
“Bullied?! Listen to yourself! You’re so racist you can’t even see it. If you’re too white-fragile to accept that, that’s your problem. I’m done.”
With that, Ms. Antiracist storms off. Or more likely, she unfriends Mr. Skeptic—this scenario plays out most often on social media.
Fragility or appropriate sensitivity?
We’ve all seen conversations like this, unfortunately. Perhaps we’ve been in a few ourselves.
If you’re passionate about antiracism, you might feel that Ms. Antiracist’s anger is justified—and maybe it is. But my question is: was Mr. Skeptic being white-fragile?
In this scenario, I would argue that he wasn’t. He did become defensive, but his defensiveness wasn’t a response to the topic of racism. He responded to this topic with a calm, reasoned statement: “Police shootings aren’t necessarily racism.”
Ms. Antiracist became emotional first. She quickly broke several norms of politeness: she made accusations, interrupted, and condescended to Mr. Skeptic. His anger was a natural response to her tone—her aggressive, disrespectful behavior.
Anger over racism is justified, and I’m not telling anyone not to feel angry; this post isn’t intended to police anyone’s tone on this heated topic. But what I am saying is this: if you choose to express your anger in a way that breaks norms of respect, then the person you’re talking to will likely become defensive—and such defensiveness isn’t white fragility.
Of course, there’s also the possibility that Mr. Skeptic’s defensiveness is partly fragility. A person can be both “fragile” about the topic of racism and reacting to disrespect, and it can be hard to parse this out. But regardless, my point is that not all white defensiveness is white fragility.
Fragility or disagreement?
There’s a final way this term gets misused: when antiracists fail to discern white fragility from disagreement about racism.
In the example above, Mr. Skeptic disagreed with Ms. Antiracist about the causes of police shootings. Ms. Antiracist became quickly offended at his disagreement, blaming his stance on willful ignorance and white fragility. But again, this begs the question: was his disagreement fragility?
Again I say “no.”
Various people of color agree with Mr. Skeptic. From provocateurs like Candace Owens to intellectuals like Thomas Sowell and John McWhorter, there are people of color who feel racism is not as pervasive and impactful as many progressives believe. Of course, far more people of color do believe it’s pervasive and impactful—but still, the naysayers can’t all be white-fragile, because they aren’t all white.
While many white skeptics may indeed be white-fragile, mere disagreement about the impacts of racism is not enough to make a person white-fragile.
When we assume all disagreement is white fragility, we imply that there’s only one correct view on racism in America—a view that’s inviolable and beyond question. Anyone with a dissenting view must be white-fragile, because dissent has no basis in reason. This way of thinking shuts down conversations…not to mention compassion.
White fragility is real, but be careful how you use it.
I’m not ready to throw out white fragility just yet. I try to avoid binary thinking in general, and I believe a term can be problematic yet still have merits.
The merit of this term is that it gives language to a real phenomenon. I’ve seen white people blow up at first mention of racism, becoming ridiculously defensive right out of the gate. It’s an aggravating habit that makes it nearly impossible to talk about this important topic.
Here’s an exchange I’ve seen countless times on Facebook:
MS. ANTIRACIST: I’m appalled by the police shootings of unarmed black people. We can do better; we have a long way to go on racism in this country.
MR. SKEPTIC: I am so sick of being called racist! [Then a huge block of text about how he’s not racist, neither are any of his friends, liberals are the real racists, and he’s So Hurt And Angry.]
White fragility is a real thing.
Nevertheless, I want my antiracist friends to realize there are more nuances we can add to our thinking. Defensiveness isn’t always fragility; it may be a response to disrespect. Disagreement isn’t necessarily fragility, either. And telling someone they’re being “fragile” won’t help, even when they are.
True white fragility is just as DiAngelo said: an overly emotional, defensive response to the topic of racism. Perhaps the best use of this term is not for labeling others—it’s for reflecting on our own behavior and working not to be “fragile” ourselves. Now that’s something I can get behind.
