Daria Roithmayr –
The Democratic Party is once again dividing into a left versus center configuration, just in time for the November Election. The catalyst for this renewed debate appears to be Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez’s massive primary upset in New York’s fourteenth district. Ocasio is a democratic-socialist who has focused on her district’s predominantly Latino and black working class, campaigning on a platform of Medicare for all, a federal job guarantee, and the dismantling of ICE. More than almost any other candidate this season, she has developed an affirmative vision of economic, social and racial dignity for all working-class Americans.
The daughter of Puerto Rican parents, she has argued that the interests of people of color should be represented in the district. Remarkably, some of her strongest support came from predominantly-white Astoria. To those who accused her of playing identity politics, she responded:
“I can’t name a single issue with roots in race that doesn’t have economic implications, and I cannot think of a single economic issue that doesn’t have racial implications. The idea that we have to separate them out and choose one is a con.”
This post serves as a follow-up to an earlier post in which I issued a call to unify the old and new working classes. In this post, I want to accomplish two things. First, I want to further uncover the relationship between race and class. In particular, I want to explore the argument that race segments the working class into less-free workers of color and more-free white labor. Second, I want to strengthen the call to unite the old and new working classes across the race-class divide.
On the campaign trail in 2016, Donald Trump took aim at Barack Obama’s signature climate change policy, the Clean Power Plan, as a “job-killing regulation.” Trump vowed to tackle regulations “on Day One.” By March 2017, he had signed an executive order directing EPA head Scott Pruitt to review the policy.
But even before Trump was elected, over half the states in the country joined oil and gas companies in suing to overturn the Clean Power Plan in 2016, accusing the EPA of “regulatory overreach.” Now that Trump is trying to roll back the CPP, a group of seventeen different states is suing the EPA to stop it from delaying implementation of the plan. The courts may save the Obama policy yet. But the ongoing litigation battles illustrate how court-centric environmental politics have become, and the limits of legal strategies in achieving political victories.
John Whitlow –
New York City recently became the first jurisdiction in the United States to guarantee a right to counsel for poor people at risk of eviction. This was an important step in the fight for equal access to the courts, and a significant victory for tenant advocates who had waged a decades-long campaign to ensure fairness for people on the verge of losing their homes. I cut my teeth as a New York City tenant attorney in the early 2000s, when the right to counsel felt closer to a pipedream than a reality, and I can say unequivocally (and uncontroversially) that providing tenants with a lawyer when they enter the maw of housing court is a good thing. At the least, it will keep landlord attorneys and judges on their toes and reduce the stress and trauma tenants feel when navigating a byzantine system on their own. At the most, it will allow people to mount robust defenses and save their apartments, in the process preserving some of New York’s evaporating supply of affordable housing. But I can also say that it is not nearly enough to derail the hyper-gentrification that has been a through line of recent economic development policy and has its roots in the fiscal crisis of the 1970s.
In the context of an over-heated housing market, the right to counsel should be viewed as a limited intervention that operates when eviction is imminent, i.e. after the structural sources of displacement have done their work. Failure to recognize the limits of the right to counsel – and of access to justice paradigms more generally – naturalizes those structural sources and legitimates as normal the widening inequalities produced by our current political-economic and social order. Challenging inequality and displacement in a deep and lasting way requires moving beyond access to justice and critically engaging the core tenets of market-driven urbanization.
Will Bloom —
In a week chockful of major news about the American labor movement, no story has captured the imagination of workers and labor activists across the country like the West Virginia teachers’ strike. Despite having no legally protected right to strike or collectively bargain, and despite facing Republican control of both houses of the legislature and a newly Republican governor, teachers and school support staff have been on strike since February 22. They have enough statewide support to keep schools in all 55 counties shut down. The union leadership even cut a deal with Governor Justice in which he pledged to support legislation giving teachers a 5% raise, and still the workers refused to end the strike, holding out until the bill is passed and until the state addresses ballooning costs to workers of PEIA, the state employee health system.
Many have written about what this battle can teach us about the future of American class war. In light of the Supreme Court’s impending decision in Janus v. AFSCME, what happens to teachers in a non-fair-share state like West Virginia is especially significant for public sector workers nationwide. But it also has lessons to teach about a new form of labor organizing previously best exemplified by the Fight for 15 campaign (FF15). Though the two may seems very different in terms of industry and geography, both take a sectoral approach to collective bargaining that breaks out of the traditional employer-employee dyad and enlists public political actors . The West Virginia teachers’ surprising success shows what can happen when that structure is combined with a mass, militant movement of workers expressing their power through direct action.
Sarah Krakoff –
“Either Way the Outlook is Dire, Especially for the Poor.” So concludes a journalist after reviewing a draft report by the International Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) on the environmental justice and human rights consequences of climate change. The 800-plus page report, which is not yet publicly available, details the effects of a 1.5 degree Celsius increase on food systems, water, shelter, infrastructure, and health. Even if countries meet their pledges under the Paris Accords (from which the U.S. withdrew under President Trump) 1.5 degrees of warming by 2030 is locked in. If countries fail to meet their commitments, the world will be well on its way to 2 degrees of warming or more.
“The risks to human societies … are higher with 1.5 degrees Celsius of global warming compared to today, and higher still with 2 degrees Celsius global warming compared with 1.5 degrees … These risks are greatest for people facing multiple forms of poverty, inequality and marginalization. —Draft IPCC Report, 2018
On one hand, there is nothing new about this. Environmental harms, and harms of all sorts, have disproportionate impacts on people, communities, and regions with preexisting vulnerabilities. Earthquakes, fires, floods, and drought do not themselves discriminate. But structural wealth insulates people from the ill effects of natural disasters and helps them to recover more quickly. As Mike Davis and John Mcphee have documented, albeit in distinct tones, wealth also constructs the very path of nature’s disasters, steering them away from privilege to the extent possible. Malibu’s ritzy canyon dwellers benefitted from fire suppression, and Pasadena’s craftsmen-style homes from the lassoing of the Los Angeles River, while L.A.’s population as a whole lost public spaces and healthy riparian areas. Climate change has made the unnatural inequalities of natural disasters more visible and acute, but the landscape of injustice preceded sky-rocketing greenhouse gas emissions. Laws, including environmental laws, sometimes shaped that unjust landscape, and at others did little to counter the unequal distribution of environmental and economic benefits.
Daria Roithmayr –
This post picks up where Angela Harris and Noah Zatz left off in the conversation about race and class. The arguments in this post preview arguments I will be making in a new book, entitled “The New Majority.” It will surprise no one that I decided to write the book in November of 2016.
So here’s the central argument. To end inequality, and to defuse white working class backlash, progressives should work to unite both the old and new working class on issues that those two groups share—like the concentration of power at the top, economic precarity in the middle and bottom, access to health care, job growth, wages and quality, freedom from violence and addiction, and reducing exploitation. To name just a few.
If there is a silver lining to the 2016 election and the trail of destruction that has followed, it is this: in the midst of the chaos, progressives have begun a serious conversation about inequality, and about race and class. To be sure, the conversation doesn’t look all that illuminating at the moment. On one side, people like Mark Lilla and others on the economic left (or left of center, or okay, center) make totalizing claims that locate class as the centerpiece in the conversation about inequality. They argue that Democrats have failed to address the concerns of the white working class. They claim, for example, that the experience of plant closings in key districts, explains why many people in battle ground states voted for the GOP. Some in this group argue that progressives ought to jettison “identity politics” in favor of some more universalist principles of fairness or economic justice.
On the other side, Ta-Nehisi Coates and others on the cultural/material left make totalizing claims that race and racism are what stands in the way of true equality. This group argues that anti-black racism and anti-immigrant resentment drove last November’s results—after all, poor and working class voted disproportionately for Clinton, and voters who expressed fear of people of color were far more likely to have voted for Trump, even when they had voted for Obama or for Democrats in years past.
In addition to making totalizing claims, both sides appear to accept the common wisdom that long-standing racial divisions make a unified working class impossible. I want to challenge all of that. More specifically, I want to argue for the possibility of uniting the old and new working class around progressive commitments to things like shared prosperity and the end of precarity, access to health care, an end to violence and a lower cost of debt. This doesn’t mean that I side with the class folks—far from it. Or with race folks. It’s more accurate to say that I side with both. To unite the old and new working class, we must understand the way in which race and class interact, for a particular group of people at a particular historical moment in time. Continue reading
Alyssa Battistoni –
Paying for corporate tax cuts with revenue raised from grad students and universities sounds like a parody of a Republican tax bill. Unfortunately–like many seeming parodies these days–it was all too real. The tax bill that originally passed the House would have taxed both graduate student tuition waivers and university endowments above a certain level, measured per-student.
The tax on tuition relief wasn’t in the version of the bill that passed the Senate, and has been dropped from the bill entirely in the reconciliation process—thanks largely to grad students and their unions, who led a wave of protests against the provision. The endowment tax, however, remains intact despite the best lobbying efforts of university administrators.
Understanding the various versions of the bill in relation to both grad students and endowments provides a valuable window into the political economy of contemporary academia. In particular, Congressional Republicans have unintentionally revealed the ways in which the labels of “school” and “student” are only partial descriptors of contemporary universities and the people who study at them.
Amy Kapczynski –
On December 5th, I joined hundreds of people from 32 states in Washington D.C to protest the Republican tax bill. We packed the hallways outside of the offices of seven key members of Congress, and mic-checked one another so that people’s stories about the bill’s devastating consequences could be heard. A group of us – around 130 in total – refused to leave when the Capitol police arrived, and were arrested.
It was in many ways not an unusual act – the next day, more than 200 people were arrested in D.C. demanding a Clean Dream Act. I’m heading back to D.C. today for another protest, joining hundreds more in a last ditch effort to head off the tax bill.*
Many people have thanked me for what I did two weeks ago. Perhaps it’s because I’m a law professor. Or perhaps it’s because so many of us are wondering what more we can – or must – do to save our democracy and bring about a more equal society.
Confrontational protest and civil disobedience are an indispensable part of the answer. Here are five thoughts on why I decided to participate in the protest, and what it means to me, and what I hope it might mean to some of you. Continue reading