The Challenge of Neutrality in Scholarly Discourse on Race
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In the summer of 1854, Frederick Douglass delivered a commencement speech at a college graduation—potentially marking the first time a Black individual addressed such an event in the United States. Douglass, aware of the significance of his presence, urgently called upon the graduates, who were scholars in a nation where only a small fraction of adults possessed a college education. He declared, “The relationship between white and Black citizens is the most critical issue of our era.” He emphasized that scholars had a crucial role to play in addressing this matter, which he framed as a moral battleground that demanded their engagement.
Douglass further cautioned:
To remain neutral in this debate is to be an unworthy individual. In this context, one must either take a stand or be viewed as indifferent, if not worse. Those who are lukewarm or cowardly will find themselves rejected by passionate advocates on both sides. The clever individual who sidesteps the issue to appease both factions will be met with disdain, and the fearful individual who avoids it to evade conflict will be looked down upon. For lawyers, preachers, politicians, and intellectuals, there is no neutral stance. Those who are not with us are against us.
In scholarly discussions surrounding race, racism, and race relations—issues that W. E. B. Du Bois would later identify as the “color line”—there exists no neutral position.
Douglass made this assertion long before Black studies became part of academic curricula or sociology began to explore systemic racism and the interconnectedness of oppressions. (Du Bois had long been ahead of the academic curve on these matters.)
Douglass's stance was clear: there is no neutral territory for the scholar.
He was right. Furthermore, he was correct in both a prescriptive and descriptive sense: scholars should not approach issues of race from a dispassionate or neutral viewpoint; historically, they have not done so. Disciplines such as anthropology, ethnology, and Egyptology, which aimed to understand the origins and interrelations of humanity and cultures, did not emerge from a position of detached neutrality regarding race.
Nearly 150 years before contemporary debates surrounding Martin Bernal's Black Athena, Douglass and others challenged the attempts of certain ethnologists and anthropologists to dissociate Black identity from civilization—or even from humanity as a whole.
During his speech, Douglass confronted three significant academic movements that were used to marginalize Black individuals from narratives of human progress: (1) evolutionary anthropology, (2) polygenesis, and (3) ethnological erasure.
This essay will examine the first two issues, while a follow-up piece will address the third concern: the denial of Egyptian contributions to Greek culture or the repudiation of the Black identity of Egyptians.
Evolutionary Anthropology
The concept that humanity evolved from simpler life forms predates Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species, published in 1859. Prior to Darwin, the French thinker Jean-Baptiste Lamarck proposed that lower life forms could evolve into more complex beings through an inherent developmental drive responsive to environmental pressures. In this framework, some simpler creatures advanced to become distinct, more complex entities, while others persisted alongside them.
Racist theorists eagerly adopted Lamarck's ideas, claiming that Black individuals occupied a transitional stage between apes and humans. Douglass referenced a recent work that defended “the system of slavery” by denying Black people's humanity.
Douglass told the graduates, “There are three responses to this denial: ridicule, denunciation, or argument.” He expressed feeling like he was on trial as he sought an appropriate response to the outrageous assertion that Black men were not truly men. He ultimately decided, “I cannot argue; I must assert.”
Douglass was not alone among Black abolitionists in rejecting the notion that “science” could invalidate their humanity. During a speaking tour in England, Samuel R. Ward stated:
It is hardly conceivable that I should engage in a discussion over whether Black individuals belong to the human race or whether they are inherently inferior. Others may find such inquiries entertaining, but for me, they are beneath my dignity and contrary to historical and philosophical truths.
For Douglass and Ward, their public speaking was a continuous assertion of Black humanity.
In his commencement address, Douglass articulated a fundamental truth: he presented himself as a fully realized man before the scholars. “Men instinctively differentiate between humans and animals,” he asserted. “Dismiss all scientific nonsense that attempts to link humanity to monkeys; that aims to suggest that humanity, rather than standing independently, is a mere continuum stretching from the orangutan to angels, with all others in between!”
Douglass not only affirmed the complete humanity of Black individuals but also advocated for their shared humanity with others, including whites.
He posed this argument against the core premise of polygenesis, an anthropological theory gaining traction at the time.
Polygenesis
In the emerging field of anthropology, there were two prevailing theories regarding human origins: monogenesis, which posited that all humans descended from a common ancestor, and polygenesis, which argued that various racial groups had distinct ancestries, indicating that humanity was not a single family but rather a collection of separate groups.
Douglass identified key advocates of polygenesis during his era: Josiah Nott, George Glidden, Louis Agassiz, and Samuel George Morton, who famously used a large collection of skulls from around the globe to support his theories. While Nott, Glidden, and Agassiz claimed that polygenesis was compatible with biblical accounts of human origins, Morton leaned towards polygenesis to challenge the reliability of the biblical narrative.
Douglass remarked, “The question has been raised and pressed with increasing fervor: can these diverse tribes, nations, and languages—so widely separated and dissimilar—have descended from a common ancestry?” The parenthetical remark here is significant. By addressing the prevailing misconceptions that undermined the humanity and dignity of Black individuals, Douglass highlighted the link between the scholarship of his time and the social issues at hand.
As some pro-slavery advocates co-opted Lamarckian ideas to justify race-based enslavement, others seized upon polygenesis to argue that Black and white individuals did not share a common human lineage.
Was humankind a single family? Douglass pointed out that the answer could only be “yes” or “no.” He stated, “Which of these answers aligns most closely with facts, reason, and the welfare of the world, while reflecting the wisdom, power, and goodness of the Creator, is what we must consider.”
Douglass's criteria for sound scholarship included an ethical dimension. The response to the question at hand needed to be supported by facts and reason, but it also had to promote “the welfare of the world.” The Enlightenment principles, which Douglass cherished, encompassed not only the value of empirical evidence and rational thought but also the fundamental dignity and equality of all people. The assertion that “all men are created equal” was one of the self-evident truths foundational to all rational discourse regarding the human condition.
From an ethical perspective, the claim that Black individuals were not fully human was so detrimental to societal welfare that neither Douglass nor Ward would legitimize it through debate. For Douglass, such a notion was also an affront to the pursuit of truth, stemming from flawed inquiries based on erroneous premises. To rely on any conclusion suggesting humanity was not a unified family would mean accepting a conclusion that contradicted fundamental truths. Consequently, polygenesis could be outrightly dismissed as both unreasonable and unethical.
As Black individuals navigated the biases of a world where they had been marginalized, the necessity to assert that sound reasoning about human nature must also be ethical reasoning continued beyond Douglass's time. Whether addressing anthropological, biological, historical, or sociological claims about Black people, it is noteworthy how early Douglass recognized a persistent challenge for Black thinkers into the 21st century: the expectation to engage in dispassionate dialogue with theorists whose positions either fundamentally deny or imply the denial of their complete humanity.
In a 2018 article in The Atlantic, Ashley Feinberg summarized Ta-Nehisi Coates’s reaction to a recent incident the publication experienced:
Time and again, the humanity of certain individuals is subjected to debate in the name of “ideological diversity.” How can a liberal institution reconcile its core humanism with an overly expansive notion of inclusion that facilitates the very cruelties liberals claim to oppose?
This reflects a 21st-century iteration of the 19th-century dilemma identified by Douglass and Ward: those who wish to debate the complete and equal humanity of Black individuals pose an inhumane question, rendering such discussions beyond the scope of dignified scholarly inquiry or thoughtful discourse. Some inquiries deserve no response.
However, in the 19th century, Douglass felt compelled to address what was then a widely accepted scientific theory, presenting a compelling argument against polygenesis.
First, Douglass asserted that the argument could not be resolved merely through scriptural references. “It must be acknowledged from the outset,” he stated, “that, apart from the authority of the Bible, neither the unity nor the diversity of human origins can be conclusively demonstrated.” This admission may have astonished the predominantly Protestant and likely Christian audience present at the commencement, but it aligned with Douglass's evolution as a freethinker.
While Douglass refrained from using the Bible to resolve the query of human origins, he examined how a polygenetic interpretation would affect the Bible's standing as a cultural authority. He conveyed to his audience that his reasoning, sentiments, and faith led him to accept Paul’s statement from his sermon at the Areopagus: “God has made from one blood all nations of men.” Nevertheless, Douglass warned that if polygenesis could be upheld, the Bible would require a new interpretation or face complete rejection. Thus, those who relied on the Bible ought to consider the implications of polygenesis for their worldview.
Moreover, Douglass emphasized that how individuals approached the question of human origins would greatly impact “the state of affairs in our country at this moment.” While the reinterpretation of the Bible was significant, Douglass wanted his audience to understand that the very fate of the nation could hinge on their answers to the question of whether humanity constituted a single family or separate groups.
He noted that “one-seventh” of the U.S. population was Black and that the nation was effectively divided into two ethnic groups, collectively forming “the American people.” Individuals of European descent were more numerous and held more wealth and power, while Douglass remarked, “the African people are the enslaved, the marginalized, and their freedom and elevation in this country will depend on the recognition of our shared humanity.”
For Douglass, the fundamental truth that Black men and women deserved freedom and equality provided the necessary and correct answer to whether humanity constituted a singular family.
Douglass's response was neither dispassionate nor neutral. He did not engage with polygenetic theories “in the abstract.” He insisted that there could be nothing abstract about these questions when the future of Black individuals in the United States depended on their answers.
Douglass's rejection of the notion that scholarly debates in anthropology, biology, or ethnology could be morally neutral was consistent with his earlier assertion to the students: in confronting the paramount question of their time—what will be the relationship between Black and white Americans—there was no neutral stance.
In 1854, during discussions about the Kansas-Nebraska Act and the ongoing injustices of the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850, Douglass was undoubtedly correct: there was no neutral ground.
One must ponder: would he still be correct today?