Two years after the Supreme Court banned race-conscious college admissions in Students for Fair Admissions, universities are scrambling to maintain diversity through “race-neutral” alternatives they believe will be inherently fair. New economic research reveals that colorblind policies may systematically create inequality in ways more pervasive than even the notorious “old boy” network.
The “old boy” network, as its name suggests, is nothing new—evoking smoky cigar lounges or golf courses where business ties are formed, careers are launched, and those not invited are left behind. Opportunity reproduces itself, passed down like an inheritance if you belong to the “right” group. The old boy network is not the only example of how a social network can discriminate. In fact, my research shows it may not even be the best one. And how social networks discriminate completely changes the debate about diversity.
This debate has been shaped by a widely held assumption that “colorblind” policies are inherently fair. Conservatives, or those on the political right, have long argued that race-neutral or colorblind policies will bring us closer to meritocracy by promoting individual merit. In contrast, those on the political left often argue for more equality.
But what if we had both? What if we had full equality between racial groups and fully colorblind policies? Would outcomes then be fair? According to my recent economics research in the peer-reviewed Journal of Law and Economics, the answer to this question is no: under fully colorblind policies, outcomes over time would not be fair.
Consider a simple employment example with full equality between majority and minority workers and colorblind hiring. Workers have equal qualifications, the company does not use race in hiring, and initial hiring is fair. Since 1/3 of the population is minority, 1/3 of employees are also minorities.
Suppose each employee interacts with the same group of, let’s say, nine prospective job applicants and makes referrals to their company based on the social connections they form. This is common practice in the U.S., where companies rely on referrals in making hiring decisions. Research shows that referrals help companies because trusted employees may be more likely to identify others who could also become trusted employees someday.
Research also shows that people are more likely to form social connections with other people with whom they share more characteristics—this phenomenon is called homophily, aka "birds of a feather flock together.” Studies have found that race and ethnicity have the greatest influence on homophily in the U.S. So, suppose homophily is also equal between majority/minority groups. Since homophily is equal, let’s say for each 1-on-1 social interaction, there is always a two-thirds chance of forming a social connection if people are of the same majority or minority group, and a one-third chance of forming a social connection if people are of different groups.
HOW SOCIAL NETWORKS CREATE INEQUALITY
Resources on social network discrimination: Northwestern University Policy Brief | Explainer Video
From this scenario, one can calculate that the two employees in the majority group each form 5 social connections (4 with majority applicants and 1 with a minority applicant). The one minority employee forms four social connections (2 with majority applicants and 2 with minority applicants). That means 4 total social connections are with minority applicants out of a total of 14 (which is less than 29%).
Yet minorities are over 33% of the population since they are 1 out of 3 people. So, as this example shows, there will be disproportionately fewer social connections (and job referrals) for minorities despite both groups starting off equal and the company using fully colorblind hiring policies. This disparity I call social network discrimination—a term I coined that captures how minorities can receive disproportionately fewer economic and social opportunities simply because their social group is smaller. This isn't just theoretical—using real-world social network data, I find this creates meaningful economic disparities even when starting from perfect equality.
Granted, the example above relates to referrals and employment. Yet social network discrimination can apply to many other settings where opportunity is impacted by social interactions—for example, between Class A and Class B on a college campus. The very nature of college admissions—which involves university officials manufacturing an immersive academic and social community for years during a formative stage of life—inherently creates for many people the foundational network of lifelong personal and professional social connections. Students often learn about internships through dorm conversations, form study groups with peers, or hear about post-graduate options from friends. In other words, opportunities while still in school and afterward are often based on these social networks—who you know telling you information on what you need to know. And due to social network discrimination, minorities may have less access to opportunity, all else equal. This means universities implementing “race-neutral” admissions policies may inadvertently be creating the very unfairness they’re trying to avoid—even according to definitions of “merit” held by many political conservatives.
The present Supreme Court is predominantly conservative, so the law will likely increasingly be interpreted to promote even greater colorblindness. Yet, becoming aware of social network discrimination leads to uncomfortable truths for both the political right and the political left. For those on the political left, social network discrimination highlights that even if historical injustices were remedied, disparities might still naturally develop over time between groups. For those on the political right, social network discrimination shows that colorblindness does not create a true meritocracy. And for all of us, social network discrimination reveals that creating a fair society requires confronting race, not ignoring it.
A version of this article was first published by the Chicago Tribune on September 28, 2025.
Chika Okafor, Ph.D., is an Assistant Professor of Law at Northwestern University and a Faculty Fellow at the Northwestern Institute for Policy Research. He has dual courtesy appointments as an Assistant Professor in the Department of Economics and in the Kellogg School of Management.




















image of U.S. President Donald Trump is displayed on a digital billboard in Times Square in New York on April 8, 2026.
Trump is stuck between two realities. Neither serves the American people
Normally, I worry that events may overtake a column. But not so with the Iran war.
I don’t worry about running afoul of a headline or Truth Social post from the president because what is said about the situation is no longer very relevant to the reality.
On April 8, Nick Catoggio, my Dispatch colleague, dubbed an earlier stoppage with Iran “Schrödinger’s ceasefire.” This was a reference to the famous thought experiment by the physicist Erwin Schrödinger, who was trying to explain the weirdness of “superpositionality” in quantum physics. A cat in a box is both dead and alive at the same time until you open the box. Schrödinger meant to illustrate the absurdity of the idea that particles aren’t any one thing, but a “cloud of probabilities.”
The Trump administration is stuck in a word cloud of probabilities of his own making. The war is over. The war is on. The war isn’t a war. We have a deal, but we don’t have a deal, but we’re about to have a deal. We destroyed Iran’s military. No, we left it intact. We want regime change. No we don’t. We already accomplished it. We “obliterated” Iran’s nuclear program a year ago. We had to go to war in February to prevent nuclear war. The Strait of Hormuz is open, closed, or something in-between. No deal without “unconditional surrender.” Let’s make a deal!
This everything-all-at-once vibe can be disorienting, particularly since most Americans didn’t have a war with Iran on their bingo cards until the shooting had already started. President Trump didn’t prepare the country or consult with Congress beforehand because he thought it would all be a smashing success in a matter of weeks.
The miscalculation that started it all: killing Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, and much of Iran’s senior leadership, on the first day of the war. To “the great proud people of Iran, I say tonight that the hour of your freedom is at hand,” Trump announced on Feb. 28. “When we are finished, take over your government. It will be yours to take. This will be probably your only chance for generations.”
I support regime change in Iran and shed no tears for Khamenei or his goons. But when you start a war by killing the regime’s top leaders, it’s not unreasonable for the remaining ones to conclude that you really intend regime change.
Khamenei was a murderous fanatic, but he was a fairly cautious one. He liked to threaten closing the Strait of Hormuz or attacking our regional allies, but he was reluctant to actually do it, fearing it would invite a regime change war. The mullahs and IRGC goons believed, not unreasonably, that if they lost their grip on power, they’d be lynched by the Iranian people they’ve brutalized for decades.
By starting with a regime change war, Trump removed any reason for the regime not to go for broke. When you have nothing to lose — particularly when you are a millenarian religious fanatic — a Persian Alamo strategy makes a lot of sense.
So Iran closed the Strait of Hormuz and attacked its neighbors.
But it turns out this wasn’t the Alamo. In the contest of wills, Trump blinked. The Iranian regime’s tolerance for punishment proved — so far — to be greater than Trump’s and that of our gulf allies. Militarily we could finish the job, but that would require ground troops and much greater economic turmoil. In a conflict Trump launched unilaterally without the prior support of Congress, NATO or the American people, Trump doesn’t have the political capital for that.
But that’s only half the problem. Trump wants the war over, but he doesn’t want to pay — militarily, economically, politically — what that would cost. So he wants to make a deal that ends it. But there is no deal available that wouldn’t come at an equally undesirable cost. Any deal that looks like what President Obama struck with the Iranians would be too embarrassing to bear. But the Iranians are convinced that they can get just such a deal, and they’re willing to drag things out as long as it takes.
The result: Trump’s in a box of his own making. He thinks he can talk his way out by simply asserting a reality that doesn’t exist. When the financial markets get nervous, he announces a breakthrough that is, at best, a possibility. When the Iranians agree to a deal that looks similar to one Obama might negotiate, Trump goes back to his threats.
It can’t go on forever. But I’m sure it’ll last until long after this column is forgotten.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.