Having spent ten installments dissecting Musa al-Gharbi’s assertions in his book We Have Never Been Woke, it’s time to pivot to my assessment of those claims. My initial commentary focused on al-Gharbi’s thesis regarding elite overproduction as a significant driver of “Awokenings.” Today, I aim to delve into how an examination of incentives and political coalitions could enhance our understanding of al-Gharbi’s perspectives.
Bootleggers and Baptists
One of al-Gharbi’s key points is that under the banner of social justice activism, woke advocates often endorse policies that, while appearing benevolent, ultimately serve their own interests at the expense of marginalized groups. He illustrates that many contemporary progressive policies, which include welfare programs, educational mandates, and stringent regulations, can trace their origins back to the first Great Awokening. Historically, these measures were designed to ensure that certain high-status social positions remained inaccessible to the “undesirable” demographics—women and racial or religious minorities—while also advancing eugenicist agendas.
This presents a paradox: although the intentions of modern progressives diverge considerably from the overtly racist and elitist goals of early 20th-century progressivism, they nevertheless advocate for a similar policy framework that ironically tends to yield the opposite of their intended outcomes.
There are a few ways to reconcile this contradiction. The most cynical interpretation posits that the objectives of progressives have remained unchanged, with contemporary advocates still keen on keeping the “deplorables” in check. In this view, modern progressives are accused of being disingenuous about their true aims.
Alternatively, we can invoke the bootleggers and Baptists framework: some progressives genuinely believe that licensing laws, for instance, are beneficial overall, while others may manipulate these regulations to protect their own interests and hinder others from climbing the socio-economic ladder. A poignant example is provided by George Will’s account of Sandy Meadows, a Baton Rouge widow who, despite her talent for flower arranging, fell victim to Louisiana’s Horticulture Commission. The commission sought to enforce licensing requirements that effectively barred her from earning a living, ultimately leading to her tragic demise in poverty—all in the name of protecting the public from “unlicensed” florists.
However, al-Gharbi suggests that the bootlegger and the Baptist may be indistinguishable within the woke movement. They aspire to social mobility while preserving their status—reflecting their inner bootlegger—yet simultaneously profess egalitarian ideals—showing their inner Baptist. When these motivations clash, the woke often act pragmatically like bootleggers, while maintaining a righteous facade akin to Baptists, creating narratives that justify their behavior as altruistic.
While I find merit in this interpretation, I remain doubtful about its comprehensive explanatory power regarding the motivations behind modern progressive policies.
Consider the minimum wage, a policy once championed explicitly as a means to exclude “undesirables” from employment. Thomas Leonard, in his book Illiberal Reformers: Race, Eugenics, and American Economics in the Progressive Era, documents how many economists now identify the minimum wage as a primary driver of unemployment among vulnerable populations—a fact that was once celebrated by progressives as a virtue. Today, progressives are zealous in their advocacy for minimum wage increases, yet it remains unclear whether their support is rooted in the original rationale.
Although al-Gharbi does not overtly endorse the minimum wage, a careful reading of his work suggests he supports its increase. If this is indeed his stance, it raises the question: if al-Gharbi can advocate for this policy despite its original gatekeeping intent, can contemporary progressives not similarly align with policies like licensing and educational requirements for reasons that diverge from their historical context? I suspect many progressives are simply unaware of the exclusionary origins of the policies they endorse.
This leads me to ponder a potentially more straightforward explanation. In a different post, Scott Alexander discusses the “theory that the fear of disease is the root of all conservatism.” This theory, while elaborate, is backed by substantial research linking pathogen stress to political ideologies. It posits that societies with higher disease burdens are more authoritarian and conservative, while more liberal societies tend to emerge in regions with lower disease loads. The correlation is stark: northern U.S. states are often more liberal, whereas southern states lean conservative. Alexander also notes that individual reactions to disgust are correlated with conservative beliefs, suggesting a “behavioral immune system” triggered by fears of contamination.
Moreover, he introduces another “Grand Narrative” underlying conservative perspectives on social policy. This narrative posits that “We Americans are right-thinking folks with a perfectly nice culture, but there are scary foreigners who wish us harm. Unfortunately, there are also traitors among us—the Blue Tribe—who, in their quest to appear sophisticated, support foreigners over Americans, thereby undermining our culture.”
This narrative was crafted to explain the contrasting Republican and Democratic responses to the Ebola crisis in 2014. At that time, Republicans favored strict travel restrictions and quarantines, while Democrats vehemently opposed even minimal containment measures, viewing them as violations of civil liberties and harmful to the vulnerable. Alexander pointed out the striking predictability of these stances based on broader political ideologies.
Fast forward to the COVID-19 pandemic, where the partisan divide flipped dramatically, with Democrats advocating for stringent lockdowns and quarantine measures, while Republicans opposed them. This shift illustrates the fluidity of political alignment, suggesting that responses can be less about ideology and more about party loyalty.
Returning to the policies championed by progressives, it seems plausible that these social and economic positions were initially adopted for specific reasons, but over time, they became associated with a progressive identity. As political ideologies solidified, individuals began to support policies simply because they were labeled as progressive, rather than because they understood their historical implications or impacts. As Arnold Kling suggests, we often choose our beliefs based on who we are rather than understanding the underlying realities.
In conclusion, while I acknowledge that al-Gharbi’s analysis offers valuable insights, I believe it accounts for only a fraction of the motivations driving modern progressive policy support. The inclination to defend policies that align with one’s political identity may often overshadow the desire to safeguard one’s social standing. In my next entry, I’ll turn my attention to al-Gharbi’s reflections on economics and policy.
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