Skip to content
Search

Latest Stories

Follow Us:
Top Stories

What happened to the Republican war on 'woke'  and what we should have learned from it

Pencil erasing the word "woke"
mj0007/Getty Images

Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch

This isn't going to be more musing about whether America has reached "peak woke." But that is part of the story. So let's start there.

About a decade ago, many on the left embraced the word "woke," a term with roots in African American culture and activism. It originally meant staying awake — that is, "woke" — to the dangers facing the Black community. But in the hands of the broader, and whiter, academic and journalistic left, it soon became a kind of cool catchall for progressive politics, alongside other buzzwords like "intersectionality."

The combined effects of the Trump presidency, the death of George Floyd and the COVID-19 pandemic pushed wokeness into overdrive. This was the era of "defund the police" and other radical inanities.


The right soon took up the word, using "woke" as a catchall for everything — woke or not, real or not — it hated about the left. The novelty of wokeness as a concept lent an equal edginess, for a time, to anti-wokeness. It's a familiar tale, really: The same thing happened with "political correctness" in the early '90s.

Republican politicians declared war on wokeness. Erstwhile presidential candidate and Florida Gov. Ron DeSantis was at the anti-woke vanguard, even pushing the Stop WOKE Act through the state Legislature. It didn't work out too well for DeSantis or his imitators.

And that's the point: Both wokeness and anti-wokeness have lost their transgressive edge. Now they're both kind of "cringe," as the kids say.

And that is a sign of healing.

One of the worst annoyances of polarized politics is the way the fringes symbiotically feed off each other. Like bootleggers and Baptists both benefiting from blue laws, the extreme left and extreme right need each other to justify their catastrophizing. The worst thing that could happen for Republican House fundraising efforts would be for the "Squad" of far-left members of Congress to be replaced by sensible Democrats. And the last thing the Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee wants is for Marjorie Taylor Greene to be primaried by an intelligent Republican who doesn't talk about Jewish space lasers.

So is woke over? Probably not. The term might be in terminal decline as anything other than an epithet, but the ideas are going to be around for a while — as will anti-wokeness — because both are just stand-ins for the culture war's left and right.

But it does seem as if many on the left are starting to realize they went too far. Most Democrats don't talk about "defunding the police" anymore because it is a wildly unpopular idea, including among Black people. Nor do they use the term "Latinx" as much now that they have learned that it repelled more Latinos than it pleased.

It was recently reported that the Massachusetts Institute of Technology will no longer require applicants for faculty jobs to submit "diversity statements" confirming their support for "diversity, inclusion and belonging." University President Sally Kornbluth told UnHerd, "We can build an inclusive environment in many ways, but compelled statements impinge on freedom of expression, and they don't work."

A slew of elite schools have reversed course by requiring standardized tests again. Big corporations are paring back their diversity, equity and inclusion, or DEI, departments, which surged under Trump.

And, of course, the explosion of lawlessness and antisemitic rhetoric on elite campuses has been a lesson for academia, the left and Democrats. The country isn't that into disorder and bigotry. Polls suggest that the public is siding with police more than protesters.

There's a lesson here for the right too. For a decade, the populist right has been whining about losing every battle in the culture war to rationalize its embrace of radical and authoritarian politics. But the premise is wrong. The right doesn't always lose — or win — any more than the left does.

Trump and his supporters insist that America can't survive without him in the White House. William Barr, who was attorney general under Trump, says his former boss is utterly unfit to be president but that he will still vote for him because a second Biden term would amount to "national suicide" because of wokeness or something. Never mind that wokeness surged under Trump and has been receding under Biden.

Obviously, the right and left still have plenty to complain and worry about. The point is that there's always plenty to complain and worry about. Tides come and go. And people learn, eventually, from their mistakes.

First posted May 7, 2024. (C)2024 Tribune Content Agency, LLC.


Read More

Two Yellow Speech Bubbles Overlapping Common Ground on Blue Background Front View.
A reflection on parenting, empathy, and communication in a divided world.
Getty Images, MirageC

Building Trust, One Conversation at a Time

In 2020, my friend and colleague Dr. Terrence Robinson died suddenly and unexpectedly of COVID. For five years, we had built a youth apprenticeship program together in Cleveland, raised more than half a million dollars, and trained more than 200 young people. Terrence was Black. I am Jewish. The whole time, I wanted to talk with him about the things that sat quietly underneath our friendship: race, religion, history, privilege. I never did, because I was afraid of saying the wrong thing, and the negative ramifications of saying something ignorant in the workplace. Then he was gone, and the conversation I kept postponing was gone with him.

I think about that silence often, because it is the same silence I now see between two communities that once helped change this country together.

Keep ReadingShow less
How Composting Connected Two Women Across Six Decades

An 82-year-old and 24-year-old bonded over composting—and discovered shared roots, values, and a friendship that broke every generational stereotype.e

Cavan Images/Getty Images

How Composting Connected Two Women Across Six Decades

Every day, we cross paths with people whose lives seem completely different from our own. We exchange polite greetings with neighbors, chat briefly with acquaintances, and pass strangers without ever learning their stories. Yet beneath the surface, we often share more than we realize. Sometimes, all it takes is one conversation. Jean and Bella, 82 and 24 respectively, discovered this through their interest in composting.

Bella regularly attended a Sunday morning "Cookies and Conversation" intergenerational discussion group at Hebrew SeniorLife, where Jean lives in Brookline, MA. The two had spoken before, but only in passing. Like many people meeting someone from a different generation, Bella wasn't always sure how to bridge the gap.

Keep ReadingShow less
Cropped shot of a group of people joining their hands in solidarity

A new union political director explains why labor membership has halved since 1983 even as public approval hits record highs—and what's driving the gap.

LumiNola/Getty Images

The Ongoing Fight for Bread and Roses

Last Monday, I started a new job as the political director for IBEW 569, a local electrical workers' union based here in San Diego. In talking to friends about what I’m doing–while learning, fast, in real time, how to do the job myself–it occurred to me that there’s actually quite a knowledge gap in society today regarding an understanding of what unions are and what they’re supposed to do. So let’s get into it.

A union is, at its core, a group of workers who agree to negotiate together instead of alone. One worker asking a boss for a raise has almost no leverage. A thousand workers asking together hits different. That leverage of teamwork, that collective bargaining, is how the overtime pay, workplace safety standards, and employer-sponsored health insurance all came to exist in this country. None of it was handed down out of corporate goodwill. Fair wages (bread) and dignity (roses) were won, often at real cost. In 1890, the average workweek for manufacturing employees and building tradesmen was around 100 hours or more. Workers in Chicago who rallied for an eight-hour workday faced police violence, but we have that and weekends now because people were willing to lose their jobs, and sometimes their lives, to organize for it.

Keep ReadingShow less
Group of young adult students sit at desks in classroom listening to teacher

Why do Americans respond so differently to hard history lessons? A look at the three psychological mindsets driving the patriotism debate — and a path past it.

Lighthouse Films/Getty Images

“They Hate America”: Patriotism in the Face of Historical Updates

I happened upon a civil discussion blog and read a post by a man who said he was happy to report that when he attended a panel discussion about teaching patriotism in the schools, all went well. He said that’s because most of the people in the bridging organization that hosted the event are “pretty patriotic.” He clarified that by writing, “None of the type of bad actors (and there are many) who want to teach kids to hate America and Western Civilization were represented.”

Someone made a comment about why we can’t incorporate historical change into curriculum and objected to the notion that a segment of the population wants to teach kids to hate America. The man who posted cited what he believes is proof. A last commenter simply input the emoji for a sleeping person, as though the argument was boring or unimportant.

Keep ReadingShow less