IF MARTIN LUTHER KING CAME BACK, WOULD HE BE CALLED A SELLOUT?
Equality of opportunity faces off against identity politics.
The quality of opportunity and identity politics—two perennial warriors.
On the one hand, you have a principle that, in theory, offers each individual a fair start—regardless of whether they are from Prada or Walmart.
On the other hand, you have identity politics, which turns that same race into a clamour of grievances, grievances that no longer care about starting lines but rather about group affiliations and perceived entitlements or systemic disadvantages - and thus, the focus is on finishing lines.
The concept of equality of opportunity is often misinterpreted; it simply strives to stop deliberate state efforts to limit opportunity. It does not hold that everyone starts with the same abilities and potential nor deny that some fortunate individuals get more than their share of plum opportunities crossing their paths. It does not make life equal or fair.
John Locke laid out this concept in his Second Treatise of Government, where he preached the natural rights of man. Locke’s concept of the “equality of opportunity” is rooted in his broader philosophy of natural rights and social contract theory, particularly in his work Two Treatises of Government (1689). He believed that all individuals are naturally equal because they are born with the same natural rights, which include life, liberty, and property.
(Americans changed the latter to the pursuit of happiness).
Again, equality is not about equal outcomes or abilities but rather an equal right to pursue one’s goals, free from undue interference from others or the state. Locke’s version of equality of opportunity did not assume that everyone would have the same material resources, skills, or talents but rather that they would have the freedom to pursue their goals without unjust barriers like tyranny, oppression, or inequality before the law.
In contrast, identity politics is driven by the impatient, angry warrior who says enough!
It assumes discrimination based on identity causes inequality and thus limits opportunity. This modern movement centres around one’s membership in a particular social group—gender, race, sexuality, and so forth—and argues that singular identifiers are essentially the summation of the person and thus can equally be the principal cause of any misfortune. It’s an insulting notion.
It is the victimisation theory and is the father of hopelessness and resentment.
Of course, the problem is that once you start organising people into groups based on immutable characteristics, you’re often no longer talking about individuals but rather about what George Orwell called “smelly little orthodoxies.”
Orwell was against the uncritical acceptance of dominant ideologies or rigid belief systems that people follow without question.
The “smelly” metaphor refers to the thinking behind a particular idea that has rotted away due to a lack of scrutiny. Orwell was concerned with how people cling to convenient, popular opinions or trends without deeply engaging with their meaning or implications. He believed that such blind allegiance to “orthodoxies” leads to intellectual laziness and conformity, stifling independent thought and creativity.
Orwell’s concerns ring true today in many cultural areas, not merely race. Today, lack of reading, the decline of attention spans and the rise of social media have only amplified the degradation of language and thought - think colonialism, eco-truths, oppressors, and social justice. Such smelly, thoughtless orthodoxies push us closer to authoritarianism or tyranny — themes that Orwell explores extensively in his works like 1984 and Animal Farm.
There is little debate on such ideas because adherents face little opposition and respond to opposition by tossing pejoratives (name-calling) at those with whom they disagree. They thus shut down their thinking and encourage tribalism that rarely evolves into understanding.
Equality of opportunity argues sensibly that all should be given the chance to try, but no one is guaranteed success. As Milton Friedman quipped, “A society that puts equality—in the sense of equality of outcome—ahead of freedom will end up with neither equality nor freedom.” Or they might make everyone equally poor. As a neurologist in Russia in the early 2000s, my wife made about CAD 400 per month, the same as a waiter.
She had only intrinsic motivation to spur her forward.
Equality of opportunity has the decency to let individuals compete based on merit. If one fails to succeed, one can blame oneself, the system, or perhaps bad luck in the genetic lottery. It’s a meritocratic concept with little to put too much feeling-based furnishings in the discussion room.
This brings us to identity politics, which offers not a fair race but a sort of bureaucratic sports day where the starting, hurdles, and finish lines are constantly adjusted based on who’s participating. They echo in human rights tribunals that have set up shop in universities and colleges, wretched little departments that can at times be political proxies of management, and that have tossed aside the presumption of innocence; they punish first, adjudicate second, have no evidentiary expectations and are often staffed with more than their share of twits.
There is no need to prepare because the rules will always be in flux. If one member of a particular identity group trips over a hurdle, the organisers rush in to flatten the entire course for all future runners of that group.
Identity politics thrive on division, whether intentionally or not. Bitterness and grievances are their super fuel.
Its adherents argue that singular characteristics define people —be they race, gender, or other identity markers—while intersectionality is when one has multiple identity grievances and can’t make up one's mind about which one to choose.
Systemic racist is a phrase that if you argue against, you are called racist as a rebuttal, which stops healthy discussion.
Binaries are embraced when they should be given a healthy distance. With system racism, the problem is not that there is not a strong case that it doesn’t exist, but rather that adherents refuse to scale their objections; they just throw around systemic racism as a shield against inquiry; the phrase can be translated as “shut up, I said this exists, and if you don’t agree, you are a racist.”
True identity politics believers claim that their positions are largely pre-determined, like they were forced into some racist or prejudicial form of Calvinism - and thus, the rest of society must atone.
And herein lies the problem: in attempting to rectify past (or present) wrongs, identity politics often morphs into the very thing it seeks to oppose—a new hierarchy, where grievances are currency, and moral superiority is conferred based on victimhood rather than virtue.
Take, for instance, the famous line from Martin Luther King Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, in which he dreams of a world where people are judged by the “content of their character” rather than the colour of their skin. One could argue that King’s vision is an example of striving for equal opportunity.
Identity politics is running in the opposite direction; it prioritises the very thing King wished to transcend—identity markers, like race and gender, which then become the focal point of discourse.
Proponents of identity politics might argue that King’s dream is too utopian or that society hasn’t yet reached the point where character alone can be the measure. They might point to systemic racism, gender inequality, or historical oppression as justification for prioritising group identity.
And there’s some truth there, surely. Historical injustices exist, and their consequences often linger. They are real, but if sold as outfits that would clothe someone and form their complete identity, they make the person powerless and hopeless - the clothing is now a straitjacket.
In their apparent noble intent, they drive forward to rescue the injured but, unfortunately, run over them all.
Yes, what identity politics frequently fails to address is that focusing on these collective identities risks entrenching the very divisions it purports to resolve.
There’s a certain irony in how the focus shifts from shared humanity to endless subdivisions of identity. Obsessing over these differences, identity politics moves further from Locke’s ideal of individual rights and equality before the law.
If MLK were to step foot into our world today, would he be considered a sellout by many within the Black community?
The answer, for better or worse, is yes—and it’s not because his moral compass would have wavered or his dedication to justice faltered. No, the reason is far more entertaining (and tragic) than that.
King’s philosophy was centred on nonviolent resistance. The good doctor was practically synonymous with turning the other cheek to the frustration of many of his contemporaries. If he returned today, I dare say that frustration would explode, and he would hear cries of “Uncle Tom” or worse.
Today’s climate, with BLM, the ever-present racial tensions, police brutality, and institutional racism, has increasingly flirted with the idea that change through peaceful means isn’t quick nor satisfying.
King’s commitment to nonviolence would likely clash magnificently with the growing sentiment that “enough is enough” and the cry for more radical measures to be heard.
Dr. King would stand there, calm as ever, preaching about love, reconciliation, and peaceful protest. At the same time, a contingent of today’s activists would furrow their brows, squinting at him as if he’d suggested they stop using TikTok.
He’d likely be dismissed as naïve by the more disillusioned factions within the community. Some might say, “MLK’s strategy worked then, but we’re not in the ‘60s anymore. This isn’t about sitting at lunch counters and getting a slap on the wrist. Now it’s tear gas, it’s mass incarceration, and it’s a system that has evolved to camouflage its bigotry better than ever.”
To these groups, King’s stance on nonviolence might seem not just outdated but positively damaging—an implicit validation of systems they deem irredeemable. And voilà, the “sellout” label begins to form.
Going beyond the “I Have a Dream” speech, it’s crucial to remember MLK’s relentless emphasis on cooperation. In the 1960s, King often worked closely with white allies, many of whom played significant roles in advancing civil rights. From clergy members to everyday citizens who joined the marches, King saw cooperation with well-meaning white people as crucial to dismantling segregation and discrimination. I don’t know of him dismissing anyone without sufficient melanin by saying they hadn’t his “lived experience”, so they need to shut up and listen.
But oh, how might that be interpreted today? If Dr. King dared to suggest we join forces with well-meaning white and Jewish allies, the backlash from certain factions might be swift and brutal. “Working with white people? Dr. King? In 2024?
One fact that seems forgotten in the howling of ‘Intifada now’ is that Jews were front and centre in helping push the civil rights movement forward. Anti-Semitism and racism share the position of two of society’s greatest perpetual evils. This should bring unity.
There’s a pervasive and growing scepticism today around white people’s involvement in racial justice movements. Terms like “white saviour complex” are thrown around liberally, and many are wary—quite rightfully so—of white allies who, consciously or not, centre themselves in the narrative.
Suppose King were to partner with white allies in today’s climate. Would that be seen as a betrayal?
For some, the question would arise: Was King more interested in appeasing white moderates or securing real, transformative justice for Black people? Was his method of “integration” just a means of blending into the white man’s world rather than carving out a separate, powerful black identity?
Peeling back another layer of King’s legacy was the question of economic justice. In his later years, King was increasingly focused on economic inequality, calling for the end of poverty and addressing the systemic issues that left Black Americans economically disenfranchised.
But—MLK’s socialism-lite rhetoric would, no doubt, be viewed as painfully conservative today. Sure, it was radical in the ’60s, but we’ve since moved the goalposts, haven’t we?
The idea of the government redistributing wealth and providing basic needs would be lovely, but we’re now entering debates about reparations, universal basic income, and the abolition of capitalism itself.
In other words, King’s calls for a living wage would seem quaint in 2024. “Oh, is that all, Dr. King? Do you just want a living wage? We’re over here asking for land, asking for reparations, asking for the abolition of police forces, and you’re still on about fair wages? Bless your heart, but we don’t use eight-track tapes anymore; we have evolved.”
This is where we encounter one of the more biting ironies of this hypothetical. King, a man who was murdered precisely because of his increasingly radical stance on economic justice, would today be branded as not radical enough.
The man who stood at the forefront of fighting the most egregious injustices of his time would now be critiqued for his ideas seeming too…reformist. Perhaps it’s a testament to how bleak and monumental the challenges remain today, or perhaps it’s just that we’re more cynical.
Today, King would be accused of practising “respectability politics.”
King believed that black Americans had to present themselves as respectable, law-abiding citizens to counter the white narrative of black inferiority. He believed, rather sincerely, that dressing well, speaking clearly, and demonstrating moral superiority would help tear down the pervasive stereotypes that justified segregation and racism.
Today, such talk would be called white superiority/supremacy; any opposition to it would be white fragility, and the cry would be so loud that even the grievances against microaggressions would be drowned out.
A strong contingent within the black community would view this as pandering at best and self-hatred at worst. “Why should we act ‘respectable’ to be treated as human beings? Why should we care about white perceptions of us when they have never cared about us in the first place?”
And in that sense, King would be seen as a sellout—a man who tailored his message, his demeanour, and his presentation to fit a white supremacist framework, even as he fought against it. His desire for integration, to some, might be viewed as a desire for assimilation, and in today’s rhetoric, assimilation is a form of betrayal.
So there we have it. If Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. stepped into our world today, a world fractured by increasingly volatile racial tensions and polarised political ideologies, many would consider him a sellout. Not because he was wrong in his convictions but because those convictions clash so jarringly with today's world.
His call for nonviolence would feel timid, his cooperation with white people suspicious, his economic justice outdated, and his respectability politics downright cringe.
But therein lies the irony: it is precisely because the world is still so broken that King’s message is needed more than ever. If we lived in a society that truly reflected the ideals of justice, equality, and freedom he dreamed of, the thought of calling him a sellout wouldn’t ever touch down in our minds. Instead, we find ourselves pointing fingers at him because the systems he fought against remain intact, merely adapted and camouflaged.
Ultimately, the accusation of being a “sellout” says more about our disillusionment than it does about King himself. Telling someone that they have no power and that they are dependent on the favour of those without special identities to advance is no kindness; it is insulting.
It breeds nothing but bitterness, and in the end, it will not advance equality; it will only divide society and leave people with the impression that anyone in the special identity categories has jumped the queue. It will train society to believe that the recipients of equity prizes are undeserving of their stature in life.
Thanks for these insights, Paul, and your ever-increasing wisdom. Cute dogs, by the way! You pick good quotes to share with us, and I enjoy your AI-created artwork. My grown children had warned me about the issues you describe in the first part of your article, way back before October 7th. I now stand corrected, and have ‘updated’ some of my left-leaning perceptions. You avoided mentioning your own situation in this one, which was a good call. Your support for Israel and the Jewish community are hugely appreciated. Go from strength to strength!