Lane Kenworthy, The Good Society
Martin Luther King’s 1963 “I Have a Dream” speech offered a vision of an inclusive America.
“I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character….
“I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal’….
“I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood…. I have a dream that one day down in Alabama … little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers….
“If America is to be a great nation, this must be true.”
How far have we progressed toward the great nation of King’s vision, toward genuine inclusion of African Americans?
Inclusion has three components: (1) Similar treatment by key institutions (schools, the legal system, etc.) and by other groups. (2) Opportunity to participate fully in society. This entails not just the absence of barriers, but also, where necessary, ample supports. (3) Embrace as part of the community.
The enslavement of blacks in the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries is one of the worst things the United States has done, and progress in rectifying our policies and institutions came slowly. Slavery was outlawed in 1865, following the union victory in the Civil War. Yet physical violence, sharecropping arrangements, segregation laws, and poll taxes and literacy tests were used to subjugate blacks for another century in much of the south, and residential segregation and employer discrimination hindered opportunity in the rest of the country. In 1954, segregation in public schools was ruled unconstitutional. Then, following a decade of activism and protest by the civil rights movement, the Civil Rights Act of 1964 outlawed racial discrimination in school admissions, housing, hiring, and pay. In the late 1960s state laws forbidding interracial marriage were banned and affirmative action policies began.
A generation later, in 1997, Stephen and Abigail Thernstrom published a major assessment of racial progress titled America in Black and White: One Nation, Indivisible. Their conclusion was positive and optimistic. “Today,” they wrote, “almost three-quarters of black families are above the poverty line. In 1940, 87 percent of black families were in poverty; the figure was down to 47 percent in 1960 and 26 percent in 1995. The black college population has grown from 45,000 in 1940 to over 1.4 million today, a thirtyfold increase. Sixty percent of employed black women were domestic servants in 1940; today very few are. A majority, in fact, hold white-collar jobs. The number of black men in professional occupations has also risen impressively. Power and influence were exclusively white prerogatives in 1940; there was no Vernon Jordan and no Michael Jordan.”1 Nor, we can now add, was there a Barack Obama — America’s first black president, elected in 2008 and again in 2012.
What does an updated look at our progress toward inclusion of African Americans tell us? To what extent has progress continued?
Measuring inclusion isn’t straightforward. Many of the available indicators are of disparities in outcomes. This is partly because we often lack direct measures of treatment or opportunity and partly because sharply and persistently unequal outcomes foster a feeling of exclusion.
Let’s begin with education. Figure 1 shows the gap in test scores between African Americans and whites at kindergarten and at age 9. The gaps are sizable, but they’ve been decreasing steadily over the past two decades.
Figure 2 shows that the share of African Americans completing high school increased dramatically in the 1960s and 1970s, and by the mid-1990s it had caught up with the white share. It has stayed level since then. Here progress toward inclusion has been substantial and sustained.
African Americans have achieved similar, if not quite as rapid, gains in college completion, as figure 3 shows. Whites have experienced a similar rise, so the size of the gap has remained fairly constant. But we shouldn’t conclude that the continued gap indicates a lack of progress.
As figure 4 shows, African Americans are more likely to be employed today than a generation ago, despite the damaged wreaked by the 2008-09 economic crisis. At the same time, they haven’t moved closer to whites in a relative sense; in fact, the racial gap in employment rates has increased a little.
A useful if imperfect indicator of the well-being of those at the bottom of the economic ladder is the poverty rate — the share of people living in a household with an income below the poverty line (about $12,000 for a single individual and $24,000 for a family of four). As figure 5 indicates, according to the official measure, the poverty rate for all groups dropped sharply in the 1960s. That was especially true for African Americans. Since the mid-1970s there’s been no further progress for whites. For African Americans, the second half of the 1990s saw a further drop. While a sizable gap remains, it is much smaller than in 1960 or even in 1990.
Have African Americans made similar progress in the middle? One indicator is median earnings. As figure 6 shows, reliable data are available beginning in the late 1960s. For white Americans, median earnings have been stagnant since the early 1970s. For African Americans, median earnings rose until the late 1970s, then were stagnant in the 1980s and early 1990s before rising again in the late 1990s. Since 2000 they have, like for whites, been flat. So there has been some relative progress for blacks, but it’s been muted, and the big picture here is that earnings have barely budged for middle-class Americans since the 1970s.2
When we turn to household income, the picture is similarly unimpressive. Indeed, as figure 7 shows, median household income for African Americans is only a little higher today than it was half a century ago, and there has been no progress in closing the gap with whites.
What if we look higher in the income distribution? Figure 8 shows household incomes at the 95th percentile. Here we see significant absolute progress among African Americans, with incomes roughly doubling between 1967 and 2016. At the same time, the gap with whites hasn’t diminished.
Not only has there been no closing of the gap in wealth, as figure 9 indicates, but we see no absolute improvement either. Median household wealth is shockingly low for African American households, at less than $10,000.3
So too with homeownership, which is the principal source of wealth for most middle-class households. As figure 10 shows, we’ve seen no progress for African Americans in absolute or relative terms since the mid-1970s.
Figure 11 shows that fewer African Americans than whites say they are satisfied with their community as a place to live. These data don’t go back very far in time, so it’s impossible to tell whether or not there has been progress.
Since the early 1970s, the General Social Survey has regularly asked Americans whether they think they are lower class, working class, middle class, or upper class. Figure 12 shows that there is a sizable gap between African Americans and whites in the share saying they are middle or upper class, with little change over time among either group.
Next, let’s look at some “social” indicators of well-being. Figure 13 shows the share of 25-to-64-year-olds who are married. The share is lower among African Americans than among whites. It has been falling among both groups, but more rapidly among blacks, so the gap has widened.
Figure 14 shows the share of families with children that are headed by a single parent. Here too the gap is large and has widened a little over time.4
LIFE AND DEATH
Life expectancy, shown in figure 15, is an indicator on which African Americans have made both absolute and relative progress. The average black American lived 63.5 years in 1960. By 2014 that had increased to 75.5 years, just 3.5 years shy of the average among whites.
African Americans are much more likely to be murdered than whites, as figure 16 shows. Yet after widening from the mid-1960s through the early 1990s, the racial gap in homicide victimization has closed considerably, and it’s now smaller than half a century ago.
Suicide is less common among black Americans than among whites, as figure 17 shows, making it one of the rare well-being indicators on which African Americans enjoy an advantage. And that advantage has increased over the past half century, particularly since 2000.
The General Social Survey regularly asks Americans whether they are very happy, pretty happy, or not too happy. As figure 18 indicates, African Americans are less likely than whites to say they are very or pretty happy. The gap has closed somewhat, though much of the progress came in the 1970s and 1980s.5
INTEGRATION IN NEIGHBORHOODS AND SCHOOLS
Inclusion doesn’t require full mixing. Not every neighborhood or school has to perfectly match the racial mix in the population. Yet we can’t have genuine inclusion if a group is heavily separated from others.
Residential segregation has been a core feature of the exclusion of blacks from the American community, particularly in northern cities.6 Figure 19 shows that segregation in housing between blacks and whites has declined significantly since 1970.7 Both of the standard measures, the dissimilarity index and the isolation index, suggest this. The level of segregation remains quite high; more than half of blacks and whites would have to move to a different neighborhood to get to full integration. Still, we do see progress.
In K-12 schools the pattern has been very different. Here a useful measure is the share of black children who attend a majority nonwhite school. Prior to the mid-1950s Brown v. Board of Education Supreme Court ruling, school segregation was the law in 17 southern states. As figure 20 shows, there was enormous progress in reducing school segregation in the south in the 1960s. But since 1970 there’s been no further advance, and even a little backsliding.8
TREATMENT BY POLICE AND THE CRIMINAL JUSTICE SYSTEM
As figure 21 shows, in 1960 young black men were more than twice as likely as their white counterparts to serve time in jail or prison. As the country adopted a “lock ’em up” approach to crime control beginning in the 1970s, this racial gap exploded.9 In 2000, 12% of African American males aged 20-24 were incarcerated, versus 2% of whites. The disparity has lessened a bit since then, but it remains huge.
Unequal and sometimes hostile treatment by police, judges, and other elements of the criminal justice system is a long-running source of African Americans’ perception of exclusion. “The police departments of your country,” writes Ta-Nehisi Coates, “have been endowed with the authority to destroy your body. It does not matter if the destruction is the result of an unfortunate overreaction. It does not matter if it originates in a misunderstanding. It does not matter if the destruction springs from a foolish policy. Sell cigarettes without the proper authority and your body can be destroyed. Resent the people trying to entrap your body and it can be destroyed. Turn into a dark stairwell and your body can be destroyed. The destroyers will rarely be held accountable. Mostly they will receive pensions. And destruction is merely the superlative form of a dominion whose prerogatives include friskings, detainings, beatings, and humiliations. All of this is common to black people. And all of this is old for black people.”10
In 2015, 2016, and 2017, police killed a total of 2,940 persons across the United States, 273 of whom were unarmed.11 As figure 22 shows, the incidence was higher among African Americans than among whites.
Are police systematically more likely to shoot and kill unarmed blacks than whites? We have two in-depth studies. Roland Fryer examined 1,332 police shootings that occurred between 2000 and 2015. Fryer and his research team found that in cases where the suspect didn’t have a weapon and didn’t attack the police officers, the officers were more likely to fire their weapon when the suspect was black. But in a more detailed look at cases in the city of Houston, including not only instances in which a police shooting occurred but also those in which it could have occurred but didn’t, Fryer and his team found that police weren’t more likely to shoot blacks. They also found that, across the nation, black suspects stopped by police were more likely than white suspects to experience nonlethal use of force — to be handcuffed, to be pushed to the ground, to have a gun pointed at them.12
Sendhil Mullainathan found that 32% of those shot by police are black and 29% of arrestees are black. So given an arrest, a black person is no more likely to be killed by police than a white person. If there is unfair or unequal treatment, it is in the rate of arrest, rather than in the likelihood of police shooting.13
So the data seem to suggest that blacks are more likely than whites to be stopped by police and to experience use of force if stopped. Among those stopped or arrested, blacks aren’t, it appears, more likely than whites to be shot at or killed by police. It’s the fact that they are stopped and arrested more frequently than whites that makes African Americans more likely to end up shot at or killed.
Why are blacks more likely than whites to have encounters — stoppings, arrests — with the police? In a 2016 Pew poll, 18% of blacks said they have been stopped by police unfairly in the past 12 months, versus only 3% of whites. A 2016 Justice Department investigation found that for years the Baltimore Police Department systematically stopped, searched, and arrested black residents without sufficient rationale.14
EMBRACE BY OTHER GROUPS
What does public opinion data tell us about the degree to which white Americans embrace their black compatriots?
The American National Election Study routinely asks people to rate how they feel about various groups and institutions on a “feeling thermometer,” ranging from not favorable (0) to favorable (100). Figure 23 shows how Americans, on average, feel about blacks and about whites. In 1964 there was a sizable gap, with the average feeling toward blacks at 63 and the average toward whites at 83. The gap closed steadily during the ensuing decades, and in 2004 it reached parity. There was again a bit of separation in 2008 and 2012, but the gap remained good bit smaller than it had been half a century earlier.
Figure 24 shows direct indicators of whites’ attitudes toward African Americans and toward their inclusion. Each suggests progress. Nearly all whites now say they would vote for a qualified African American for president, and indeed many did in 2008 and 2012. About three-quarters say they’d be willing to live in a half-black neighborhood. A sizable majority say they oppose housing discrimination and that blacks aren’t lazy. Smaller but increased shares say it’s okay for blacks “to push where not wanted” and okay for a close relative to marry a black person.
In the most thorough study to date of data on whites’ attitudes toward African Americans, published in 2012, Lawrence Bobo and colleagues conclude that “A Jim Crow-era commitment to segregation, explicit white privilege, revulsion against mixed marriages, and the categorical belief that blacks were inherently and biologically inferior to whites collapsed. Broad support for equal treatment, integration, and a large measure of tolerance supplanted these views.”
But the news isn’t entirely good. They also find that “despite accepting integration as a general principle and a small minority presence in schools, neighborhoods, or other public social spaces, whites express strong social distance preferences.” And “negative racial stereotypes remain widespread, but they differ from past stereotyping in two important ways. Contemporary negative views of blacks have a gradational or qualified, rather than categorical, character. The basis for such perceptions also appears to have shifted away from presumed biological or natural differences toward presumptions rooted in group culture.”15
WHAT DO AFRICAN AMERICANS THINK?
According to available public opinion survey data, African Americans are fairly pessimistic about how far the United States has moved toward racial equality, about whether the country has taken the steps needed to create equal opportunity, about the prevalence and importance of discrimination, and about race relations overall.
In 2013, the Pew Research Center asked a sample of Americans whether they thought the country “has made a lot of progress toward Martin Luther King’s dream of racial equality over the last 50 years.” As figure 25 indicates, only a third of blacks said yes.
Figure 26 shows that even fewer African Americans — less than 10% in 2015 and 2016 — agree that “Our country has made the changes needed to give blacks equal rights with whites.”
Figure 27 shows African Americans’ responses to a variety of questions about discrimination and its impact. A third of blacks say they’ve experienced discrimination in the past year. Half to three-quarters say discrimination exists and is important in employment, living standards, and treatment by police.
Finally, figure 28 shows that about two-thirds of African Americans think race relations in the US are bad.
WHY SUCH LIMITED PROGRESS SINCE 1963?
America has progressed toward greater inclusion of African Americans. We see this in the absolute improvement on a number of indicators and the relative improvement on some. At the same time, the amount of progress since the 1970s has been disappointingly limited. Why is that? There are three main explanatory candidates.
One stresses continued discrimination. Research consistently finds that discrimination still exists and that it matters. The clearest signal comes from “audit” studies, in which are large number of (fake) job applicants are matched along a host of relevant criteria, with the only noteworthy difference being their race.16 What’s less clear is the degree to which discrimination accounts for our limited progress toward racial inclusion in the past generation, particularly given that, although we have little hard data, discrimination almost certainly has continued to decrease.
A second hypothesis suggests that cultural factors matter most — in particular, a culture among African Americans that attaches less value to family stability, education, and employment.17 Culture surely does affect people’s life chances to an appreciable degree, but this account falls short in the face of research that finds less-educated African American women are just as committed as middle-class white women (perhaps moreso) to marriage and that many black males from less-advantaged homes are no less dedicated to school and work than their white counterparts.18 The culture hypothesis also fails to account for limited progress by middle-class African Americans.
Probably the most important reason why America has stumbled in its movement toward greater racial inclusiveness was highlighted by William Julius Wilson in The Declining Significance of Race, The Truly Disadvantaged, and When Work Disappears: economic restructuring has made employment and wage increases less likely and more precarious for working-class and middle-class Americans, regardless of their race or ethnicity. Because of the prior effects of slavery, racism, and discrimination along with the contemporary impact of the criminal justice system, African Americans are overrepresented among this group. More of them have thereby suffered from this economic transformation.19
- Stephen Thernstrom and Abigail Thernstrom, America in Black and White: One Nation, Indivisible, Harvard University Press, 1997, pp. 18-19. ↩
- Valerie Wilson and William M. Rodgers III, “Black-White Wage Gaps Expand with Rising Wage Inequality,” Economic Policy Institute, 2016. ↩
- Thomas Shapiro, Tatjana Meschede, and Sam Osoro, “The Roots of the Widening Racial Wealth Gap: Explaining the Black-White Economic Divide,” Institute on Assets and Social Policy, 2013. ↩
- Sara McLanahan and Christopher Jencks, “Was Moynihan Right?,” Education Next, 2015. ↩
- See also Betsey Stevenson and Justin Wolfers, “Subjective and Objective Indicators of Racial Progress,” Working Paper 18916, National Bureau of Economic Research, 2013. Stevenson and Wolfers note that an alternative data source, a DDB-Needham Life Style Study question on life satisfaction, tells a similar story. ↩
- Douglas S. Massey and Nancy A. Denton, American Apartheid: Segregation and the Making of the Underclass, Harvard University Press, 1993. ↩
- Douglas S. Massey, Jonathan Rothwell, and Thurston Domina, “The Changing Bases of Segregation in the United States,” Annals of the AAPSS, 2009; Edward L. Glaeser and Jacob L. Vigdor, “The End of the Segregated Century: Racial Separation in America’s Neighborhoods,” Manhattan Institute, 2012. ↩
- Nikole Hannah-Jones, “Choosing a School for My Daughter in a Segregated City,” New York Times, 2016. ↩
- Bruce Western, Punishment and Inequality in America, Russell Sage Foundation, 2006. ↩
- Ta-Nehisi Coates, Between the World and Me, Spiegel and Grau, 2015, p. 9. ↩
- Washington Post, “Police Shootings Database.” ↩
- Roland G. Fryer, Jr, “An Empirical Analysis of Racial Differences in Police Use of Force,” Working Paper 22399, National Bureau of Economic Research, 2016. ↩
- Sendhil Mullainathan, “Police Killings of Blacks: What the Data Say,” New York Times, 2015. ↩
- US Department of Justice, “Investigation of the Baltimore City Police Department,” 2016. ↩
- Lawrence D. Bobo, Camille Z. Charles, Maria Krysan, and Alicia D. Simmons, “The Real Record on Racial Attitudes,” in Social Trends in American Life, edited by Peter V. Marsden, Princeton University Press, 2012, pp. 74-75. ↩
- Marianne Bertrand and Sendhil Mullainathan, “Are Emily and Greg More Employable Than Lakisha and Jamal? A Field Experiment on Labor Market Discrimination,” American Economic Review, 2004; Roland G. Fryer, Jr, Devah Pager, and Jörg L. Spenkuch, “Racial Disparities in Job Finding and Offered Wages,” Working Paper 17462, National Bureau of Economic Research, 2011; S. Michael Gaddis, “Discrimination in the Credential Society: An Audit Study of Race and College Selectivity in the Labor Market,” Social Forces, 2015. ↩
- Nicholas Lemann, “The Origins of the Underclass,” The Atlantic, 1986. ↩
- Kathryn Edin and Maria J. Kefalas, Promises I Can Keep: Why Poor Women Put Motherhood Before Marriage, University of California Press, 2005; Jay MacLeod, Ain’t No Makin’ It: Aspirations and Attainment in a Low-Income Neighborhood, 3rd edition, Westview Press, 2009. ↩
- William Julius Wilson, The Declining Significance of Race, University of Chicago Press, 1978; Wilson, The Truly Disadvantaged, University of Chicago Press, 1987; Wilson, When Work Disappears, Vintage, 1996. See also Lane Kenworthy, “Shared Prosperity,” The Good Society. ↩