When someone gets criticized for having done/said something racist, it’s too often framed as an identity issue—either by the person making the criticism, or by the person defending themselves. So, instead of saying, “That was a racist argument,” someone says, “You are a racist.” Or, when criticized for having made a racist argument, a person says, “I can’t have made a racist argument because I’m not a racist.”
And then you get the three defenses:
1. I’m not a racist because I have opposed racism in another context;
2. I’m not racist because I have friends of a race other than mine;
3. You’re the real racist because you made this about race.
Those are all irrelevant and fallacious responses.
As I argued elsewhere, if I drift out of my lane and hit your car, you would be furious if I responded by saying, “I can’t have hit your car because I’m a good driver” and then argued:
1. I’m not a bad driver because I have been a good driver in another context;
2. I’m not a bad driver because I have been complimented on my driving;
3. You’re the bad driver because your car got in my way.
It isn’t about whether someone is (or is not) a bad driver.
I think it is possible to decide that we shouldn’t allow someone to take the wheel because s/he has a history of bad driving, and it might be reasonable to conclude that the person is, on the whole, a bad driver. But we’re still going to get those same three defenses, and so it might be rhetorically wise to keep the stasis on the question of their pattern of bad driving.
Because, even if I really am, on the whole, a good driver, I’m still not off the hook for hitting your car.
I’m saying this because of a particular incident that has popped up in my field, but, really, it’s constantly a problem because we spend way too much time arguing about identity and not enough arguing about actions and policies.