Supporters of Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton vehemently agree on one issue: Donald Trump should not be President. Despite Sanders and Trump sharing an unprecedented number of potential constituents due to similarly emotional campaigns, democratic socialists abhor Trump’s gaudy wealth and evident narcissism. Despite Clinton receiving political contributions from Trump in the past, moderate democrats despise Trump’s racial scapegoating and loud, proud misogyny. Both camps need to learn to comprehend and communicate with Trump’s many, many supporters.
Even conservatives are struggling to communicate with their own base. In the National Review, a conservative publication struggling to comprehend and explain the rise of Donald Trump, Kevin Williamson wrote that “the white American underclass is in thrall to a vicious, selfish culture whose main products are misery and used heroin needles. Donald Trump’s speeches make them feel good. So does OxyContin.” The thrust of the article insists that the poor, uneducated white voters whose anger has buoyed Trump’s successful campaign have “failed themselves.” This toxic rhetoric is similar to the rhetoric which insists that poor, uneducated black citizens are intrinsically deficient. Although impoverished workers could be natural allies, poor whites must learn how to recognize intersectional oppression before contributing to meaningful dialogue.
Poor black populations and poor white populations are opposed to each other because market forces place them in direct competition for wealth and prestige. Blue-collar whites in rural America exhibit last-place aversion: they politically support candidates who promise to ensure that minorities, especially undocumented immigrants, are situated below them. Blue-collar blacks in urban America do not currently have a major party candidate who addresses their fears and concerns.
It is difficult to convince a white man whose job was deleted and replaced by a new computer or shipped away as part of some acronym-named international trade deal that his black neighbor has it tougher. When comparing two tragic tales, how does one convincingly insist that black pain is more deserving of advocacy? History, facts, truth, logic, and argumentation: these are inefficient when addressing purely emotional pain. The ardent Trump supporter will not be swayed by your truth. With that said, we have two choices: write them off or find a new way to discuss systemic racism.
We cannot fault people of color who are willing to write off Trump supporters. As Matthew Braunginn wrote in Madison365: “[Trump is] letting people know it’s OK to lash out against those they fear … now, they have a leader to coalesce around.” Having a leader to coalesce around is, in itself, a white privilege. Although the Democratic candidates for president give lip service to race — especially in the days before primary contests with large minority populations — neither Bernie Sanders nor Hillary Clinton have addressed solutions to systemic racism. In lieu of addressing race, both candidates emphasize class, as if to solve poverty would instantly resolve racial divisions. As usual, minority populations must settle for the least unsettling candidate while poor white Americans have strong voices in Sanders and Trump.
I do not believe that writing off Trump supporters is the best decision for resolving racial divisions. The most militant poor blacks and the most racist poor whites have common ground — economic inequality hurts them both, albeit unequally. How do we convince Trump supporters that wealth and opportunity inequality is caused by those who control the market rather than the minorities who are competing for the same rung of the economic ladder? It is an especially difficult question when Trump’s extreme wealth is not viewed as a detriment but as a goal for poor white voters.
We have to start with understanding. Voters are self-interested; how does Trump appeal to the self-interest of a poor white man? Simplified rhetoric using few syllables and plenty of reassurance is diametrically opposed to, say, Clinton’s evasive, lofty, often out-of-touch utterances. Liberals speak in large ideas that require education. The definition of the term “institutional racism” is not part of an Appalachian coal miner’s network of information. Trump is easy to understand. That matters. It is also encouraging: it means that communication is not impossible, just difficult.
My first recommendation is to simplify terms when communicating with Trump supporters. This is not an insult to Trump supporters, but rather an indictment of the rhetoric used by liberals supporting people of color. We too often shut down dialogue by insisting that participants in our conversations must arrive to the table with the same sets of information. For example, the term “person of color” is a relatively new term that is used to emphasize the humanity of minority populations. It is also a shibboleth. A 74-year-old white Trump voter who calls a black person a “colored person” is immediately marked as someone who does not have the information to participate in a meaningful conversation about race. Those hoping to have critical conversations about race must learn to correct with care rather than derision.
“When comparing two tragic tales, how does one convincingly insist that black pain is more deserving of advocacy? History, facts, truth, logic, and argumentation: these are inefficient when addressing purely emotional pain. The ardent Trump supporter will not be swayed by your truth. With that said, we have two choices: write them off or find a new way to discuss systemic racism.”
My second recommendation is to focus more intently on the sociology of racism rather than the psychology of racism. Even conservative pundits recognize the ugly racism of Donald Sterling or David Duke, and by focusing on calling out racists rather than racism, we harm our own conversations. How? By focusing only on the ugliest, least subtle forms of racism—those exhibited by individuals who are verbally racist—we give space for Trump supporters to oppose Trump to the KKK. Instead, we should be focusing on the systems which perpetuate racism. Racism functions after Sterling is admonished. Giving them such heavy attention allows institutional racism to persist because it operates subtly, sociologically, and Trump supporters have a psychological view of racism.
My third recommendation is to give them incentives to listen. Trump supporters are humans who are voting primarily for one incentive: dignity. In an article entitled “Trump Supporters Aren’t Stupid,” Emma Lindsay wrote that “[w]e are depriving the white working classes of their means to give. As we export manufacturing jobs internationally and as we streamline labor with technology, we start moving people to the sidelines. It’s not just that they have less money, it’s that their identity as providers is being threatened.” The key to dialoguing with a Trump supporter is to keep last-place aversion in mind.
How do we assure them that resolving systemic racism will, in fact, benefit their socioeconomic circumstances? How do we communicate that the worries of the proletariat affect both whites and blacks? How do we maintain patience in the face of an angry white person willing to sucker punch a black protester at a Trump rally?
Conversation can feel futile. But if the best solution of social justice advocates is to write off Trump supporters as too angry, too unwilling, or too uneducated to have a reasonable discussion about racism, we are committing the same sin as political rhetoricians who decided that black communities were too angry, too unwilling, and too uneducated to deserve attention.
