Capitalism, the plastic bucket we are all crammed in for (give or take) 77.5 years, incentivizes the Seven Deadly Sins of the Roman Catholic Church. So much so that In March of 2008, the Vatican updated the sixth-century list with seven more modern transgressions: Environmental pollution, Genetic manipulation, Accumulating excessive wealth, Inflicting poverty, Drug trafficking and consumption, Morally debatable experiments, and Violation of fundamental rights of human nature. The latter being horrifically executed in Gaza, South Sudan, The Democratic Republic of the Congo, and unfolding in various other countries as I write this. Although I don’t practice Catholicism, I have no other choice but to practice capitalism, and I believe our rat race of an economic/political system engenders an additional act of indecency perpetrated by the US bourgeoisie class: the imperious sense of entitlement.  

Back in January, Dr. Glenn Loury, the Merton P. Stoltz Professor of Social Sciences and Economics at Brown University, wrote a piece published on the City Journal website titled, Clarence Thomas and Me, with a subtitle that opines: To speak as a black man at odds with the consensus of other blacks can be burdensome—and liberating.

Dr. Loury’s politics, like many others, have oscillated throughout the years—from a Reagan conservative (a term he proudly employed)—to his recent declaration (in a 2022 conversation with Russian-American computer scientist Lex Fridman), “I’m a neoliberal economist.” The arc of Loury’s political pendulum is not as wide as it appears (especially when you consider the current American duopoly) but the inconsistency is enough to elicit a side-eyed look from those on the progressive left of his literary cri de coeur for Justice Clarence Thomas.

Loury’s concern centers on Justice Thomas’ impending retirement and legacy. He presumptuously insists, “However controversial (Justice Thomas) may be, and however unrepentantly conservative his views, it is no longer possible to deny his stature and influence on American life and law.” Well, depending on what the word deny suggests in his assertion Loury is either unquestionably right or egregiously wrong. In other words, Thomas’ work during his tenure is, indeed, embedded in American history, however, the notion that all Americans are obliged to accept him and his insidious contributions to the present and future sociopolitical degradation of this country, is a check, if I were Loury, I would not try to cash.

It is undeniable that Justice Thomas is a man “in a position of great power,” to borrow Loury’s language, but just because we are living in the citadel of capitalism, and “power” is the altar upon which many Americans choose to do their worshiping, does not mean that Justice Thomas is entitled to unreproveable homage.

Power is a double-edged asset, one that can be channeled into goodwill or abused for self-serving purposes. And throughout Thomas’ career, from Professor Anita Hill’s claim of sexual harassment, to the recent pay-to-play allegations that involves his financial disclosure report, the Supreme Court Justice seems to be a proponent of the latter.

However unethical Thomas’s approach may be it is not the only reason his legacy is in jeopardy. Great power, as the trite saying goes, comes with great responsibility, and Justice Thomas and other African Americans who find themselves in a position of influence, whether they like it or not, are responsible, as James Baldwin put it in his intriguing tete-a-tete with Nikki Giovanni, “to the people who have produced (them)”—and Thomas has unremittingly betrayed that obligation.

It is not a crime against humanity for Thomas to take a self-serving (or conservative) approach to his career, he is entitled to live his life the way he chooses. But we pay for the choices we make in life, even those of the ruling class, and the contempt from African Americans (and others) who wanted to see Justice Thomas live up to Baldwin’s creed, it seems, is the price he and his legacy will pay.

Based on (what I believe are) the misdiagnosed sentiments he expressed in his “loyalty trap” theory, I’m almost certain Loury does not entertain Baldwin’s social contract either. Any African American man who can make Mrs. Coretta Scott King cry, by blaring “The Civil Rights movement is over!” at her, more than likely does not feel an allegiance to an ethical obligation that vows to pay the benefits of the civil rights movement forward. Benefits that came at the expense of the King (Shabazz and Evers) family. Benefits that African American men like Dr. Loury and Justice Thomas, who were both born in 1948, were the first to exploit.  

According to Professor Loury, the exchange between him and Mrs. King escalated in a private meeting with NAACP executive director Benjamin Hooks when she pushed back on some of the black social impediments he mentioned in his 1984 piece, A New American Dilemma. The article is a well-written opinion that explores the African American conundrums of the 1980’s and how they affect what Loury calls “black political alienation.” With hard-to-dismiss statements like the following, it is easy to see why the essay became fodder for African American debate:

• “The bottom stratum of the black community has compelling problems which can no longer be blamed solely on white racism, and which force us to confront fundamental failures in black society (:) The social disorganization among poor blacks, the lagging academic performance of black students, the disturbingly high rate of black-on-black crime, and the alarming increase of early unwed pregnancies among blacks (that) now loom (and are) the primary obstacle to progress.”
• “Blacks were once excluded from politics by subterfuge and the threat of violence, they now constitute a potent political bloc with often decisive influence on local and national elections.”

These assertions were difficult to refute in 1984, especially the latter, but the “subterfuge” Loury mentioned has drastically re-emerged since Shelby County vs Holder, according to a 2023 Brennan Center for Justice article.

Journalists Jasleen Singh and Sarah Carter stated that “(The Shelby County) decision removed the requirement for jurisdictions with histories of racial discrimination in voting to obtain federal approval for new voting policies – a process called preclearance. Without this guardrail, voters lost a bulwark against discriminatory voting policies, and states previously subject to preclearance were free to implement discriminatory restrictions on voting access without advance checks—(and) many states did exactly that.”

The two journalists also revealed that “Far from racial discrimination in voting being a specter of the past, as the Shelby County opinion (and Justice Clarence Thomas specifically) presumed, there is ample evidence that it continues to play an active role in the continued suppression of voters of color.”

It’s obvious that the obligations and constraints associated with racism, for Dr. Loury (and perhaps Justice Thomas) as well as many others, have been an exhausting endeavor—and it is easy to relate to how they feel. Race, the fabricated imaginary construction, perhaps the most integral and disruptive humanitarian issue of the last several centuries, is an exasperating road to travel. But just because one has good reason to despise rush hour traffic does not mean it can, in essence, be avoided—or shouldn’t be confronted. I believe race can and should be dismissed on a personal level, as in who you choose to marry or with the friendships you develop. But systemic and structural racism cannot and should not be ignored, fantasized, or dismissed away, and that is why many African American, minority, and white humanitarians in the US have a just expectation of loyalty from men and women like Justice Clarence Thomas (pun intended). An expectation that is at odds with the selfish, indifferent tenets of conservative thought and capitalism.

Putting the philosophical aspect of this discussion aside for a moment, the de facto diplomatic immunity that Professor Loury has so passionately bestowed on behalf of Justice Thomas has a more tangible component that is equally interesting. Interesting in the fact that Justice Thomas will certainly be recognized and embraced when he retires. But it is not the when that concerns Loury. I believe the who, and more significantly, the where is what inspired his disconcerting essay.

The who, of course, is the African American demographic, and the where is in African American communities abroad. When you combine the three elements, Justice Thomas, African Americans, and their respective neighborhoods, one logical example that could conclusively demonstrate what acknowledging Clarence Thomas might entail would be to dedicate a public school in his controversial name. This example is intriguing for two reasons: One, because it drags the racial component into the discussion (a topic Loury consistently tries to devalue) by revealing how the names of African American luminaries are predominantly emblazoned on the buildings of Historically Black Universities, and schools in African American communities—while the names of white luminaries are otherwise ubiquitous. And two, because it is a ball that is already in play down in the Peach Tree state of Georgia.

Investigative reporter Zoe Nicholson, in a 2022 Savannah Morning News article, informs us that “there are several buildings and public spaces, (along with) an I-95 interchange, and the local wing of the Carnegie Library, (all) named after (Clarence) Thomas in Savannah.”

One of the buildings is the (former) Clarence Thomas Historic Preservation Center which was dedicated to Justice Thomas in a 2010 ceremony, but “an online petition (that amassed over 1,400 signatures), calling for the center to be renamed,” rendered its version of Judicial Review. Nicholson said, “The petition cites Thomas’ comments on (the) Dobbs vs. Jackson Women’s Health Organization case, which repealed the constitutional right to abortion.” To emphasize the citing the petition states, “For the tuition of the student body to support the maintenance and upkeep of a building named after a man who actively tries to rob the student body of their fundamental rights is unacceptable.”

This is the kind of backlash and public revulsion, coming from left leaning Samaritans that await Clarence Thomas’ legacy. It’s also worth noting that many of those 1,400 plus signatures were likely autographed by Generation Zers, which puts a sinister twist on Secretary Edwin Staton’s famous phrase after President Lincoln’s untimely final breath: “Now he belongs to the ages.”

Professor Loury’s damage control of a missive will not curtail the animus most African Americans and liberals have for Justice Thomas. And for similar judicious reasons why there are no schools bearing the name of General Benedict Arnold, their reactions are relatively analogous. Thomas, if the financial allegations are true (and there’s not enough good faith wafting from his resume to believe otherwise), was compensated for his fealty to his conservative magnates and friends, so expecting rewards from those who did not, and will not, profit from his service, is just another futile, naive lesson on Gresham’s Law.

This clash of fidelity and financial impetus brings to mind a poem called Judas Iscariot, written by the brilliant African American poet, Countee Cullen. The ninth stanza, in particular, puts what I feel is Justice Clarence Thomas’ tenure and narrative in a befitting lyrical context:

“So Judas took the sorry part,

     Went out and spoke the word,

And gave the kiss that broke his heart,

    But no one knew or heard.

And no one knew what poison ate

    Into his palm that day,

Where, bright and damned, the monstrous weight

     Of thirty white coins lay.”

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