It has been a longstanding tradition for political candidates to leverage identity as a tool to win votes, with one of the most popular elements of identity being race. Yet we seem to take for granted the unusual practice of treating racial groups as monolithic voting blocs. In exit polls, we tend to analyze the “Black vote” or the “Hispanic vote” and believe these racial subsets provide us with invaluable voting data. There is no doubt that there are patterns in the way that different races of voters lean, but we must approach these trends in a nuanced fashion. Seeing identity-based divisions as a be-all and end-all encourages political pandering by politicians, whereas neglecting it entirely reinforces systemic racism that needs to be addressed. We must create substantive policy changes based on voting patterns among racial groups, but we must also actively discourage politicians from disingenuously leveraging race as a pandering tool for political campaigns. Policy, after all, is different from politics.
There is no denying that racial groups tend to vote in similar patterns. A Pew Research Group poll found that Democrats lead by almost eight-to-one among Blacks, lead by close to three-to-one among Asian Americans, and by more than two-to-one among Hispanics. This data suggests that people of color are overwhelmingly attracted to the Democratic Party, while White voters lean more towards the Republican Party. Since the 1960s, Black voters have tended to be the most loyal Democratic voting bloc.
Politicians have picked up on these voting patterns and have weaponized race to their advantage with one goal in mind: pandering to get votes on the ballot. Candidates have strategically tapped into the “Black vote” or the “Hispanic vote” by treating racial minorities as a homogeneous voting group — a naive and facetious approach to campaigning. Although there are differences in lived experiences faced by minority groups, their political views are by no means determined solely by their race.
Unfortunately, treating racial minorities homogeneously happens all too often on both sides of the political aisle. A prominent example that hit the airwaves with controversy during Biden’s 2020 presidential campaign was when he told a radio host that black voters conflicted between voting for him and Trump “ain’t black.” The phrase “you ain’t black” is a glaring example of the racial prejudice that remains prevalent in politicians’ endeavors for political capital. By viewing all Black voters as a singular voting conglomerate, Biden drew an equivalence between race and voting habits, treating all Black Americans as interchangeable. This perspective is deeply troubling, as it strips Black Americans of their deserved individuality and conforms them into homogeneous groupthink. Even if the phrase was uttered by virtue of a moment of frustration, the pandering message that it sends to the rest of the nation is loud, clear, and dangerous.
Another example was Senator Elizabeth Warren’s (D-MA) claim to indigenous heritage during her 2020 presidential campaign, which was completely debunked by the results of her DNA test. Her misleading claim of indigenous heritage and subsequent doubling down of that claim with the DNA test were deemed as offensive and stereotypical by many indigenous communities, including condemnation by the Cherokee Nation as “inappropriate and wrong.” While it is unclear whether her intentions were to gain Native American votes during her 2020 presidential campaign, it is impossible not to point out the egregious optics of the situation. Throughout American history, Republicans also have not failed to weaponize racial divisions for electoral gain, perhaps most notoriously with their Southern strategy of the mid-1900s. The Southern strategy stoked pre-existing racial grievances among White southerners in order to win the heavily-Democratic South. This historic pandering has extended to the present day, as some political analysts attest that Trump’s election in 2016 was in part due to racial resentment among working-class White voters — a resentment that Trump did not hesitate to capitalize on.
While Biden’s “you ain’t black” fiasco and Republicans’ appeal to White voters may be extremely well-publicized, there have also been smaller moments that lend credence to the burgeoning prevalence of racial pandering. For instance, Beto O’Rourke suddenly and awkwardly began speaking Spanish during the 2019 Democratic Primary debates, ostensibly to connect with Spanish-speaking audience members. This prompted Senator Cory Booker to attempt the same later in the debate. Amid his abrupt Spanish-speaking attempt, O’Rourke never actually answered the question soundly, which captures the essence of pandering quite well: superficial political ruses to distract from genuine policy proposals. It is patronizing and offensive, making it seem like votes can be bought without substantive backing or promises. Ultimately, pandering elevates stereotypes to prominence, broadcasting them as the valid representation and characterization of a particular racial group. Once you strip away the flowery language, pandering is thinly veiled racism.
Yet, therein lies a predicament — race remains an influential political determinant. Especially amid the racial reckoning brought about in the summer of 2020 with the murder of George Floyd, few topics in public discourse were as prominent as the topic of race. Furthermore, the COVID-19 pandemic disproportionately killed Black Americans, bringing racial inequities into stark relief. De-emphasizing race in politics — in political campaigns, for instance — would be similarly injurious to these communities, neglecting pressing issues rooted in racism that ought to be readily addressed.
Hence, it is not enough just to identify racial disparities: This identification must be followed by substantive policy proposals that acknowledge minority voting patterns while also recognizing the political heterogeneity within them. Policies like the Affordable Care Act, for instance, have narrowed disparities in health outcomes for Black and Hispanic individuals. The American Rescue Plan is another such piece of legislation, cutting Black child poverty by 33.3%. These are examples of substantive policies that assist minority communities in tangible ways and extend beyond the lip service delivered by politicians. These policies recognize that the root causes for racial voting trends lie in concrete issues that affect people’s daily lives, rather than the vote being inherently tied to identity. In this way, racial politics would greatly benefit from added substance to abstract political goals.
On a final note, it is important to note that voting trends stratified by race are not static and fixed; minority votes are shaped by events. Voters are not permanently loyal to a single political party; their vote depends on their concerns. Political scientist Ruy Teixeira and journalist John B. Judis made the mistake of viewing race as a decisive political factor in their book “The Emerging Democratic Majority” in which they argued that Democrats were poised to dominate American politics in the foreseeable future due to the growth in underrepresented groups who tend to consistently vote for Democrats. This forecast was proved woefully inaccurate when voters of color, especially Hispanics, swung by an 8-point margin to the GOP between the 2016 and 2020 elections. Some political scientists attribute this shift to Trump’s legislative priorities and a general disconnect with the Democratic cultural platform. The ensuing outcry from communities of color should not be shocking. After all, treating voters of color as a monolithic bloc — the same framework through which politicians pander — is offensive and ineffective. Demography is not destiny.
The true litmus test for morally sound, effective political action is whether it addresses the inequalities that persist along racial lines in American society. Awkwardly speaking Spanish to appeal to Hispanic voters or claiming Indigenous ancestry accomplishes nothing except the derision of the very communities pandering politicians seek to appease.
Image by Beto O’Rourke is licensed under the Flickr License.
