BY James Peterson
Oct. 16, 2024
Black political thought is as diverse as the diaspora. And sometimes, it reflects the requisite divisions that a global diaspora might produce. Black people are not politically monolithic. The people and the political class have said this for some time now. We keep saying it because it is true. I love the statement because of its self-evident truth, but also because I love the word “monolithic.” It means one, unified, and in this context, it means sharing the same political views.
Black people don’t all look alike, we don’t talk the same, we don’t like the same things, we don’t all do the same things, and most of all — in this critical political moment — we won’t all vote for the same political candidates.
It should come as no surprise then that, based on various polls, a portion of Black men will not vote for Vice President Kamala Harris for president. A CNN network exit poll from nearly four years ago revealed that younger Black voters (ages 30-44) were twice as likely to vote for former President Trump than almost every other Black age demographic that voted in the 2020 election. That year, 19 percent of Black men voted for Trump.
More recent polls show that a significant percentage of Black men are considering voting for Donald Trump in the 2024 election. A poll conducted by the NAACP found that about 25 percent of younger Black men support another term for Trump, signaling a trend amongst younger Black (mostly male) voters who are drifting away from the Democratic Party.
Overall, Black voter support for Kamala Harris stands at 63 percent, but it is significantly lower among Black men under 50, where only 49 percent express support for her. The Black gender gap is expanding. Two-thirds of Black women will vote for Harris . I suspect this percentage will be even greater in the only poll that matters on November 5, 2024.
Even within the mania produced by this recent proliferation of polls, there is no single unified reason why some Black men won’t vote for VP Harris because the Black men who might vote for a candidate not named Harris are not monolithic. Given the existential stakes of this presidential cycle, it’s worth exploring some of the qualitative attributes of the so-called “Trump-curious” Black male voter.
These Black men come from multifaceted backgrounds, with a collage of experiences as varied as the nation itself. Political consultants and even many Black political leaders will rarely capture the complexity of their motivations. Former President Obama was criticized recently for chastising some Black men for their implicit acceptance of misogynoir in the contemporary body politic. This is an impossible needle to thread — even for someone as rhetorically gifted as Obama.
Misogynoir is an intersectional concept — a critical term designed to capture the “crossroads of misogyny and racism.” It reflects the daily lived existence of Black women in America. But for too many Black men, gendered racism cuts both ways, and the oppression Olympics will always exacerbate the Black gender divide. Oftentimes, the media’s coverage of this important concept is positioned precisely to sow division amongst the Black electorate.
Here’s what former President Obama said in his recent remarks given in Pittsburgh:
“Part of it makes me think — and I’m speaking to men directly — part of it makes me think that, well, you just aren’t feeling the idea of having a woman as president, and you’re coming up with other alternatives, and other reasons for that.
You’re thinking about sitting out or supporting somebody who has a history of denigrating you because you think that’s a sign of strength because that’s what being a man is? Putting women down? That’s not acceptable.”
Obama is right. Some Black men — those whose subscription to White patriarchy continues to blind them to the injurious impact of misogynoir in Black women’s lives — will always turn to whatever feels familiar to them politically. Patriarchy is a familiar partner in the political ideology of all men –- and many women, too.
But those who criticized Obama are right as well. This complicated conversation about gendered discrimination within the Black community cannot be had on the eve of presidential elections or the precipice of democracy’s downfall. We cannot have a complete conversation about Black men’s perpetual patriarchal hangover without acknowledging their political pain and the deep discursive political environments within which that pain is articulated and shared. There simply isn’t enough time, and there are too many qualitative distinctions — segments, if you will, amongst the Black men who will not vote for Harris next month.
First up are the contrarians. These men often mistake their contrarian opinions for insightful or intelligent takes, but for the most part, they are just good at being argumentative. They thrive on debate, particularly in spaces like barbershops, where being loud and holding unpopular opinions are sometimes seen as virtues. For them, political discourse resembles a high school debate — a game where the goal is to out-talk the other side, score points, and win, rather than arrive at a consensus or reach some kind of meaningful conclusion.
Contrarians believe that going against the grain reflects an elevated consciousness. Their central desire is to feel more enlightened than the majority. Their individual opinion takes precedence over the fact that over 90 percent of Black women, for example, might vote differently.
Then there are the conspiracy theorists. I am not a conspiracy theorist, but I talk to conspiracy theorists almost every day. Almost all of my conspiratorial interlocutors are Black men. These men often operate from a small kernel of truth mixed in with a mess of lies and distortions. Some kernels of conspiracy theories regularly point to legitimate concerns — racism, repression, white supremacy. But they then tend to drift into the realm of fantasy.
One popular theory among Black men who support Trump is the belief that [if re-elected] he will abolish the IRS. Though another Trump administration may defund the IRS, the idea that the IRS is systematically targeting Black people contains just enough truth (e.g., audits and the incarceration of Black entertainers for tax evasion) to make it believable. This narrative resonates deeply with some voters who also happen to be Black men.
Then, we must acknowledge the straight-up misogynists. For these men, the idea of a woman holding the office of the president (or vice president) is unfathomable — just like Obama suggested. Their worldview is steeped in patriarchy — the ultimate pillar of white supremacy. They view policies that promote women’s issues — reproductive rights, family planning, or the fact that most Black women vote for Democrats — as threats to their own rights.
For these men, American politics is a zero-sum game: The more rights women gain, the fewer rights Black men have. Their thinking is insular, but they represent a sizable portion of those Black men who may not support Harris.
Lastly, there are the critical thinkers. These men, especially those living in some of the swing-state cities (Milwaukee, Detroit, Philadelphia, Atlanta), have grown up in areas run by Democrats for decades. These cities, though Democratic-controlled, have seen unchecked police brutality, rampant gun violence, eroded infrastructure, failing schools, and concentrated poverty — all affecting Black men disproportionately.
These voters feel disillusioned with the Democratic Party, not necessarily because of national politics, but because of local failures. For them, voting against the Democratic Party at the presidential level is a way to voice their frustration with Democratic mayors and city councils that they believe have failed them. You might question the timing or perspective of these critical thinkers, but it is difficult to argue with their political logic. If all politics is local and Democratic politicians are not getting it done in their city, why reward their political ineptitude with a vote for the same party at the national/presidential level?
Black men who may not vote for Kamala Harris do so for a variety of reasons, all grounded in their unique experiences. Many of these reasons have very little to do with Trump or the unending litany of his political lies posing as promises. We may not agree with these men, but we should listen to them, engage them, and ultimately, we should encourage them to vote.
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