Essay 989

Cosby and me: Why we don’t see eye-to-eye

By Michael Eric Dyson, the author of “Is Bill Cosby Right?” and a professor of humanities at the University of Pennsylvania

For more than a year, I’ve been embroiled in a public debate with Bill Cosby about poor blacks. Cosby has been harshly critical of the poor, blaming them for their plight and arguing that personal responsibility is the key to their success. Cosby has dismissed both social forces and the legacy of racism in berating the poor for their many failures--bad parenting, bad language and bad behavior.

I have acknowledged that personal responsibility is an important element in all people’s flourishing. I have also argued that it is naive and irresponsible to ignore the negative impact of low wages, poor health care, persistent prejudice and conservative public policies on the lives of the black poor.

Recently, civil rights leader (and my dear friend) Rev. Jesse Jackson and columnist Clarence Page have entered the fray. I’m afraid they’ve both missed the point of my criticism of Cosby’s beliefs.

In an open letter, Jackson contends that my “attacks on Dr. Bill Cosby are too harsh,” and that it is “one thing to disagree with his views, but quite another to personally denigrate him to make one’s point.” Instead of saying how this is the case, Jackson defends Cosby by chronicling his generosity to Jackson’s organizations. Jackson also points to Cosby’s pioneering role in defeating racial stereotypes as a reason to admire him.

True, but that has little to do with the legitimacy of my criticism of Cosby’s stern rebuke to the poor. In the absence of any supporting evidence, it might appear that Jackson is arguing that the very act of my disagreeing with Cosby is to denigrate him. But that would mean that kowtowing to the rich and mighty had replaced the role of social criticism and, presumably, strong black leadership: to speak truth to power and defend the vulnerable.

Jackson is justly famous for doing both. Renowned scholar John Hope Franklin reminded him of it recently in a public forum. When Jackson asked Franklin about Cosby’s comments about poor black folk, Franklin said that too many influential blacks have been “co-opted by white people” and have “betrayed their own race.” Franklin urged Jackson to keep up his fight for the voiceless.

In a profile of Jackson by Don Terry in the Tribune Sunday magazine last year, Jackson said that while he agreed with much that Cosby had to say, he thought the comedian’s words were too harsh and lacked context. I agree with Jackson’s assessment, one that I think he should have repeated in his open letter to me. Jackson calls for a balanced approach to our problems: Black folk must exercise personal responsibility as we fight “institutional inequality and injustice.” I agree. But Cosby’s stark insistence on personal responsibility while slighting institutional impediments is a gross distortion of the situation of the black poor.

Jackson knows better. He has criticized others for holding such out-of-kilter views. He must summon the courage to confront Cosby.

Clarence Page’s arguments about my take on Cosby are rooted in celebrity worship more than persuasive reasoning. Page appears to have reneged on his journalistic duty to maintain at least the semblance of fairness, even for a columnist, when he gushes over a call from Cosby that includes saying hello to Page’s son, “scoring some rare cool points for me in the process.” Page’s “heart pounded” as he wondered what Cosby wanted with him.

Cosby wanted to complain about the media and me, especially my insistence that behavioral modification, while intrinsically appealing, would not clear the path to social prosperity for the poor. Page also took issue with me, saying that my argument is “wrong, dangerously wrong in the disrespect it pays to the value of good behavior,” and that many blacks could attest that it “beats drugs, crime, abuse, child neglect and other forms of destructive behavior.”

My beef, however, is not with behavior; it is with those who exaggerate its influence to sting the poor for their troubles while overlooking the unjust arrangements that reinforce their poverty, something that good behavior doesn’t have the power to remove. If it did, poor black folk who behaved well in slavery would have been freed.

Page insists that I “must be delighted” by all the controversy, since “overreaction helps book sales.” It helps stand-up gigs even more so, especially since they are largely subscribed by the same white audience Cosby refuses to publicly scorn or alienate.

Unlike his colorblind comedy, Cosby’s harsh criticisms of the poor are curiously segregated. That ought to leave Jackson and Page, champions of integration, more than a little dismayed. Unless, of course, Cosby gets another pass.