Abstract
Due to a variety of structural, political, and economic changes, the US is currently in the midst of record levels of economic inequality. At the same time, the country is rapidly becoming more racially diverse (and dealing with the backlash of these demographic changes). In this article, I use Kalleberg’s (2003) framework of “good jobs” and “bad jobs” in conjunction with several sociological theories of race and racism to assess the implications of these changes. I suggest that the United States is at an inflection point that will either result in a shift toward policies that produce more racial and economic parity, or a commitment to forces that will further entrench these inequalities.
Keywords
“We used to make shit in this country, build shit. Now we just put our hand in the next guy’s pocket.” –Frank Sobotka
The above quote from the acclaimed television show The Wire occurs in a Season 2 conversation between Frank Sobotka, union boss, and Bruce DiBiago, a Maryland lobbyist. Sobotka’s union, which represents Baltimore stevedores, has been struggling for several years in the face of technological advances, a shrinking shipping industry, and outsourced manufacturing work. In Sobotka’s statement to Bruce, he is lamenting the decline of union power and influence, and the outsize role that lobbying and influence-peddling has come to take in maintaining jobs and economic security for members of the working class.
Frank Sobotka is a fictitious character, but the broader structural dynamics The Wire conveys are all too real. For one thing, union membership has declined significantly from its heyday, with pronounced consequences for workers. Declining union power means fewer protections for workers, less bargaining power, and more racial wage inequality (Rosenfeld 2012). Technological advances and increased automation have also replaced many jobs and are projected to continue doing so (Muro, Liu, Whiton, and Kulkarni 2017). And the decline of the once-robust manufacturing industry, coupled with the growth of low-wage work options in the service industry, has also contributed to a decline in stable skilled employment options for non-college educated workers. The overall result is widening income and economic inequality, with a shrinking middle class and enormous wealth inequities.
These changes have ushered in a marked difference in today’s work outcomes for many Americans. In the post–World War II era, work looked very different. Organizations were more hierarchically structured, and workers could often remain with one company for the duration of their careers (Williams, Mueller, and Kilanski 2012). As a result of labor’s more concentrated power, management and workers had a more symbiotic, interdependent relationship. While there were gaps between what CEOs and lower level employees earned, these divides were much smaller. Additionally, a robust public sector that provided support for credentialing, job training, and education also helped to ensure that workers had access to the resources they needed to pursue stable employment and to enjoy the economic growth that resulted (Williams, Mueller, and Kilanski 2012). Workers could also count on benefits from many employers that included health care and retirement packages. Ultimately, this era of work was one where both structural and organizational policies combined to lay the groundwork for the growth of a robust middle class.
However, this picture of middle class prosperity was not available to everyone. It is important to note that these class-based outcomes were also interlinked with racial and gendered practices. Widespread occupational, educational, and residential segregation meant that Black workers were largely blocked from the jobs that offered comfortable, middle class standards of living. Exclusions in public sector initiatives like the GI Bill meant Black workers were consistently at a disadvantage when it came to accessing colleges and universities that could provide education, programs that offered job training, and financial resources that could allow them access to home ownership (Katznelson 2005). They also encountered discrimination in the labor movement, meaning that they were largely excluded from both unions themselves and the occupations they represented. And for Black women, work rarely provided an avenue to economic security, while those in relationships with Black men could not expect that their partners would have access to stable, consistent employment. The postwar economic growth of the middle class and its later decline is as much a racial (and gendered) story as it is a class-based one. In this article, I explain how so and why this is consequential.
Work in the Contemporary Era
The world of work looks much different today than in the past. Workers are much less likely to remain with one company for the duration of their careers, and upward mobility in that company alone is even more rare. Instead of a career ladder, the path for mobility is more akin to a jungle gym, with workers making more lateral and zigzag moves rather than simply rising through the hierarchy of one organization (Williams, Mueller, and Kilanski 2012). Consequently, workers change jobs more often than they did in the past, with most changing jobs about every 4 years (Bureau of Labor Statistics 2020).
At the same time that workers are changing jobs more often, organizations are less likely to offer the same benefits and supports that they once provided. Guaranteed retirement pensions are largely a relic of the past in many companies, and today employees contribute a growing share of their own incomes to health care and retirement benefits (Acker 2006). Companies are also more invested in cutting labor costs, which means that they often subcontract low-wage work out to other companies rather than hiring these workers directly (Weil 2014). As a result, companies can offer generous benefits (paid leave, vacation time) to a few high status workers within a company, without having to extend the same to custodial staff or food service workers who are employed by organizations that contract with them (Tomaskovic-Devey et al. 2020).
The shipping and manufacturing industries referenced on The Wire have also continued to decline. Today, the service industries are the largest sector of the US economy. The service industries include a variety of fields including education, health care, and personal services, among others. Thus, some professions in the service industry are well-paying with a great deal of prestige, while others offer low status and wages. On both fronts, however, a growing number of jobs are contingent, part-time, or contract work, which means that workers often experience less employment and occupational stability due to the knowledge that their positions are less secure (Weil 2014). Contingent work means not only that employees have fewer opportunities to build long-term tenure with organizations, but that they are not entitled to the benefits accrued to full time employees (e.g., unemployment benefits, workers’ compensation, and others). Employees in lower wage service jobs also experience more uncertainty around work schedules (Misra and Walters 2022) while those in higher status jobs may find that the expectations associated with these “greedy professions” necessitate ever-increasing demands on their time (Moen and Kelley 2020).
What explains these significant changes between work in the post–World War II era and work in the post-1980s era of neoliberalism, free market orthodoxy, and deregulation? The decline of the manufacturing industry and the rise of the service industry in its place had a lot to do with advances in globalization and technology that made it easier and more cost-effective for many companies to move production overseas. Accompanying this shift has been the rise of service jobs, many of them low paying with few benefits, contributing to stagnating wages and growing economic inequality (Chen 2015). Further, Tomaskovic-Devey and Lin (2011) have also noted that increasing financialization of the US economy has helped increase inequality by empowering that industry and enhancing growth among institutional investors. Aspects of this financialization include a neoliberal ideology that glorifies free markets, demonizes unionization and collective bargaining, and promotes deregulation, thus weakening workers’ positions and creating increasingly more precarious, fragile employment arrangements. And growing numbers of low-skilled immigrants constitute a vulnerable pool that employers can easily exploit for cheap labor.
These structural changes have had significant consequences for most workers. They help to explain the erosion of the social safety net over the past few decades. They also contribute to an economy where workers are working the same amount or more than they had been in previous eras, but are capturing less of their share of the financial gains from that labor. These changes also contribute to record low levels of social mobility for American workers (Chetty et al. 2014). Kalleberg (2003) has argued that a major defining feature of work in the modern economy has been the transition to a widening gulf between “good jobs” and “bad jobs.” As a consequence of the increasing proliferation of “bad jobs,” many workers now experience pronounced economic and emotional uncertainty, with heightened worries and less confidence about their financial security (Chen 2015; Cooper 2003; Silva 2013).
Shifting Racial Contexts
While they may not be directly related, it is also critical to note that these changes to how we work, and the resulting insecurity, precarity, and instability for workers, also occur as racial demographics in the United States that are undergoing pronounced shifts. In 1950, 89% of Americans identified as non-Hispanic Whites. By 1980, that number remained fairly steady at 88% (US Census Bureau 1961). However, by 2000, demographers began to project that declining birth rates among Whites and increasing immigration and birth rates among Latina/o communities meant that the White majority was rapidly dwindling. These estimates suggested that by the year 2015, most children born in the US would be children of color, and that by 2045, Whites would be a numerical minority (cf. Alba 2020; Frey 2018).
Perhaps unsurprisingly, these estimates generated a great deal of controversy that continues today. Though Alba (2020) asserts that the projections of an impending White minority overlook the growth of new generations who consider themselves multiracial, thus complicating these dynamics, the prospect of a shrinking White majority remains a common narrative. This perception is often accompanied by the implication that growing populations of color stand to alter fundamental aspects of US culture permanently, irretrievably, and for the worse. Pundits like Lou Dobbs and Tucker Carlson regularly opine that immigrants stand to worsen US society, and in 2016, the claim that Mexican immigrants were disproportionately inclined to criminal behavior helped advance a presidential candidate.
Research indicates that these perceptions of changing racial dynamics have concrete implications. Metzl (2019) has shown that concerns about immigration and changing racial dynamics prompt Whites to support policies that actually worsen their own health. In this self-defeating pattern, fears about growing populations of color are part of Whites’ motivations for opposing gun control, expanded health care, and improved public education, despite the fact that their positions on these issues are literally killing them. As one respondent (who himself was severely ill and uninsured) put it, “Ain’t no way I would ever support Obamacare or sign up for it. I would rather die. We don’t need any more government in our lives. And in any case, no way I want my tax dollars paying for Mexicans or welfare queens” (Metzl 2019:38).
Two patterns, then, are emerging concurrently. Work is becoming more insecure, uncertain, and increasingly characterized by “bad jobs” that provide low pay, few benefits, and minimal stability. There are fewer opportunities for social mobility, and income inequality is growing. “Good jobs” that pay well and provide comfortable retirement, insurance, and paid leave benefits still exist, but they are harder to attain with economic restructuring and without the public infrastructure and social supports present in previous eras. Furthermore, even in “good jobs,” the constant threats of layoffs and downsizing mean workers are expected to devote ever-increasing amounts of time to work, heightening the risks of burnout and stress, and these jobs increasingly adopt the precarity and uncertainty associated with the “bad” (Ho 2009; Kalleberg 2003; Moen and Kelley 2020). Whereas work in the Post–World War II era benefited from a greater balance between organizations and labor, the current picture of work reveals arrangements where workers’ power has declined, work itself offers less security, the middle class is shrinking, and inequality has grown exponentially.
At the same time, racial demographics are undergoing a profound shift as well. While the Black population has remained relatively stable at around 13% for several decades, Latino/as are now the largest ethnic group at 19% of the US population. Additionally, while only about 4% of the populace, Asian Americans are the fastest growing group of color. These demographic changes are unmistakably changing the fabric of the United States in multiple ways, with voters of color emerging as a decisive (and multifaceted) voting bloc, and consumers of color showing that they comprise key markets whose tastes and preferences can influence many industries. Predictably, the rise in racial diversity and the growing visibility of multiracial communities has prompted backlash, perhaps seen most starkly in the rise of White nationalism and White supremacy, and its move into the political and cultural mainstream (Daniels 2018).
These trends together tell us several things. One is that the US is unmistakably becoming a more racially diverse society. This is evident not just in the shifting demographics, but in the media representation, cultural changes, and political calculations and alliances of recent decades. Yet, the country still remains stubbornly segregated on many fronts—in neighborhoods, school systems, and even peer groups—and these divisions are encouraged and stoked by White nationalists whose ideas about inherent racial superiority increasingly receive more acclaim, recognition, and support (Feagin 2006).
The second thing these trends tell us is that workplaces are not immune from the consequences of these shifting racial contexts. The “bad jobs” that used to be the province of primarily Black workers are now widespread, commonplace, and the only option available for many workers of all races, while “good jobs” become ever more scarce and difficult to attain. Concurrently, as the gulf widens between these two types of jobs, work too becomes more polarized and unequal. These changes beg the question: what happens as the US grapples with increasing racial diversity while “bad jobs” become more the norm and “good jobs” the rarity?
Race and Work: More Diversity, More Divides
Changing racial demographics mean that the consequences of shifting patterns of work have specifically racialized implications as well. Kalleberg’s (2003) “good jobs/bad jobs” framework is useful here for considering racial stratification in the workplace, as workers of color, particularly Black and Latino/a workers, tend to be overrepresented in the “bad jobs” that offer the least security and lowest wages. For instance, Black workers are 31% of transit workers and Latino/as are 43% of landscape workers (Bureau of Labor Statistics 2020). In these jobs, there are few opportunities for advancement or mobility. Thus, as work is becoming more fractious and uncertain, there are implications for a racially stratified society in that workers of color are less likely to land in the jobs that offer the most stability and highest wages.
Even in “good jobs,” Black workers still face challenges. They are more often excluded from critical social networks, which can make it more difficult to access these positions and to advance once hired (Pedulla 2020). In her study of Black women lawyers, Melaku (2019) finds that these attorneys face an uphill battle finding mentors and sponsors who can support and guide their careers. They also pay an “inclusion tax” where they must do additional work on their appearance, comportment, and even emotions in order to assimilate into these predominantly White spaces. Other data indicate that highly educated Black workers in professional jobs still face a racial wage gap where they earn less than their White counterparts (Wilson and Rodgers 2016). And organizations often engage in a process of “racial outsourcing” where, instead of devoting critical resources to increasing diversity and creating more equitable environments, they shift this responsibility to the few Black professionals in their employ (Wingfield 2019).
Other challenges befall Black workers in both “good” and “bad” jobs. As Black workers disproportionately live in the south, they are underrepresented in the parts of the country job growth is occurring most rapidly (Cook et al. 2019). Across the board, Black workers are also subject to greater oversight, surveillance, and scrutiny than their counterparts of other races (Roscigno 2007). This means that as managers are watching Black workers more closely to look for mistakes or errors, they are more likely to find faults among their work than with their colleagues of other races. Greater oversight helps create a situation where Black workers are held to a higher standard and, as the old adage goes, really must be twice as good to get half as far. Additionally, racial disparities in hiring persist, with Black workers facing rampant discrimination (Pedulla 2020). Candidates whose names seem to signal a Black identity are less likely to receive callbacks than those whose names suggest they are White (Bertrand and Mullainathan 2004), and White candidates with a criminal record are more likely to receive callbacks than Black candidates with no criminal history (Pager 2007).
These issues are especially pronounced among Black workers, but they are by no means exclusive to them alone. Other workers of color also report similar challenges. Despite the fact that Asian Americans are overrepresented in professional/managerial positions, they are less likely to move into supervisory roles, essentially hitting a glass ceiling at midlevel management jobs. As Chin (2021) notes, this often attributes to racial stereotypes that mischaracterize Asian Americans as “model minorities” who are too passive and docile to “fit” the expectations for the highest ranking positions. Flores and Banuelos (2021) also find that Latino/a physicians are often stereotyped as cleaning or janitorial staff, and that they are subject to a “gendered cultural taxation” where colleagues expect them to do the equity work of serving as Spanish language translators in addition to completing their actual duties as doctors. In other words, as the labor force becomes more multiracial, workplaces do not necessarily follow suit. They remain stratified in ways that create ongoing complications for employees of color.
Race and Economic Changes
How can we make sense of why these disparities exist? What explains why, as the US population becomes more multiracial, we continue to see workers of color concentrated in “bad jobs” and thinly spread among the “good?” What are the implications of this pattern? Economists tend to highlight the ways that widening inequality and changes to work have implications for the labor market and for workers writ large. However, sociological theories of race are increasingly useful in understanding how these economic changes also have racial implications, and to highlight that these changes will not affect all workers equally or in the same fashion.
Structural Racism
Several macro-level theories give insights into the racial consequences of an increasing shift toward a good jobs/bad jobs model. These theories highlight how racial inequalities are embedded into the broad social structure of the economic, legal, political, and cultural systems that shape the US (and other nations as well). Proponents of structural racism argue that racial hierarchies are not an incidental outcome of an otherwise race-neutral system; rather, social structures are intentionally and explicitly designed in ways that perpetuate and maintain racially unequal outcomes.
Omi and Winant’s (2013) racial formation theory contends that racial categories exist independently of class, are socially constructed, and perhaps most importantly, are primarily maintained through the political structure. They argue that the political system is the central site where racial inequalities are sustained, citing legal strictures such as segregation, voter disenfranchisement, and pre-Civil Rights era hiring discrimination as examples. Somewhat controversially, Omi and Winant (2013) also argue that the political arena is where various racial groups engage in “racial projects” to further advance their cause, and cast the US as a “racial democracy” where all groups are equally equipped to bring forth these projects to seek or curtail change (see Feagin and Elias 2013 for a critique).
Bonilla-Silva (2001, 2003) also offers a racial theory that could be categorized in the structural racism camp. He disagrees with Omi and Winant (2013) that the political arena is the primary source of racial conflict and change. Rather, Bonilla-Silva (2003) argues that the US has progressed through various racial social systems. In the first phase, legal slavery was the social system that shaped race relations, establishing a political, economic, and legal structure wherein Black Americans had no rights, could be sold for profit, and were equivalent to property. The racial ideology of the time justified this arrangement by claiming that both Blacks and Whites benefited from the order and structure that slavery provided—it precluded Blacks from being taxed by the burdens of freedom, and ensured the “natural” racial order wherein Whites were superior.
The second racial social system was characterized by the era of segregation, wherein slavery was illegal but most cities and states enacted local ordinances that maintained strict segregation and entrenched racial inequalities. Again, the political, economic, and legal structures coalesced to ensure that Blacks, as a group, maintained an inferior position relative to Whites. Furthermore, the racial ideology of this time period shifted from one of benign Blacks who needed slavery as a civilizing force, to emphasizing Blacks as potentially violent, dangerous, and threatening, thus in need of being separated from Whites by segregation and other, more violent measures like lynching.
Finally, Bonilla-Silva (2001, 2003) contends that the current racial social system is defined by colorblind mechanisms. Explicit racial segregation is no longer legally allowed, but subtle and covert processes such as gerrymandering, voter ID laws, and the rollback of affirmative action measures, among others, rely on political, economic, and legal systems to maintain the same hierarchies as in preceding eras. Currently, he suggests that the racial ideology that upholds these mechanisms relies on the language of colorblindness, where “seeing” race becomes taboo even as racial inequalities abound.
Feagin (2006) offers a third theory that highlights the structural features of racial inequality. Like Omi and Winant (2013) and Bonilla-Silva (2001), he argues that the legal, economic, political, and social systems in the US perpetuate racial inequality. Feagin (2006) differs from his contemporaries, however, in that he argues that the foundational nature of racial inequality in the US has not changed over time; rather, it has remained remarkably consistent in its application of anti-Black principles. Rather than identifying temporal shifts in social systems, Feagin (2006) suggests that since the United States’ inception, all social systems have fundamentally been organized in ways that ensure racial inequality in outcomes, and that these systems are upheld by an ideology he describes as white racial framing. White racial framing casts Whites who are more moral, intelligent, attractive, law-abiding, and hardworking than people of color, and explicitly identifies Blacks as the opposite in these areas.
Race in Organizations
More recently, sociologists have begun to examine how organizations play a role in shaping racial inequality. This line of theoretical work takes a more mezzo level than structural approach, highlighting the way community groups, workplaces, schools, and other organizations are themselves racialized spaces that both maintain and perpetuate hierarchies and inequalities. By honing in on organizations as discrete spaces, these theorists argue that it is possible to examine internal dynamics and their implications.
In their theory of relational inequalities, Tomaskovic-Devey and Avent-Holt (2019) posit that organizations have largely been left out of the sociology of work and economics. They address this by highlighting the key ways that organizations, both independently and relative to each other, are a mediating force that can foster unequal outcomes between White workers and those of color. Building on Acker’s (2006) theory of inequality regimes, which argues that internal organizational processes perpetuate racial, gendered, and class-based inequalities, Tomaskovic-Devey and Avent-Holt (2019) argue that these regimes vary within and between organizations. They also underscore the specific processes that give rise to these various inequalities, highlighting exploitation, social closure, and claims-making as key factors. In the end, these mechanisms help explain racial inequalities that persist both within and outside organizations.
Ray (2019) has also grappled with understanding the role organizations play in shaping racial inequality. In theorizing how organizations are fundamentally racialized spaces, he argues that internal processes such as credentialing, allocation of resources, and time expectations serve to institutionalize racial hierarchies. For instance, Ray (2019) argues that in many organizations, Whiteness becomes a credential and a qualification in itself for high-ranking positions. Audit studies offer some evidence of this, as research in this area indicates that managers often favor applications that appear to be from White candidates, even when their skills, qualifications, and educational backgrounds are identical to candidates of color (Bertrand and Mullainathan 2004; Pedulla 2020).
Wingfield and Alston (2014) suggest that organizational dynamics also shape internal expectations for workers of color. In their theory of “racial tasks,” they argue that workers of color are subject to additional responsibilities, labor, and requirements. However, the particulars of these are shaped by position in the organizational hierarchy. For workers of color at the top of an organizational structure, their racial tasks may involve upholding and maintaining an organizational culture that marginalizes workers of color, or performing emotional labor in response to racial slights (Chin 2021; Pierce 2012). In short, they maintain the organizational structure at the ideological level. Workers at the middle of an organizational structure may find that their racial tasks more commonly take the form of upholding organizational norms, carefully engaging in self-presentation that upholds racial hierarchies (i.e. laughing at racist jokes, chemically straightening hair), or repeatedly proving competence (Bolton and Joe 2004; Lopez 2008; Wingfield 2010). These racial tasks occur at the ideological and interpersonal levels. For workers at the bottom of the organizational structure, racial tasks could include constructing and maintaining the infrastructure of an organization in ways that center White employees and customers—maintaining rooms or buildings named for White supremacists, for instance (Moore 2007). These racial tasks occur at the physical level.
Race in Interactions
Finally, much of the work on race has assessed how it occurs in everyday, routine interactions. This research shows fairly conclusively that people of color encounter different treatment from Whites in a variety of settings, from home purchasing (Lacy 2007) to shopping (Pittman 2017) to dining out (Dirks and Rice 2004) to policing (Gilbert and Ray 2016; Ray, Marsh, and Powelson 2017). The nuances of this vary depending on the racial group in question—while people of color at large report discriminatory treatment in public spaces, for Asian Americans this often takes the form of being stereotyped as foreigners or terrorists (Chou and Feagin 2008). Ultimately, everyday interactions are often a source of racial mistreatment. 1
Implications for Work
If processes at the structural, organizational, and interactional levels perpetuate racial hierarchies and inequalities, then what does that mean for understanding the economic changes that have taken place over the past few decades? We know that social mobility has declined, economic inequality has worsened, jobs are more precarious, and the social safety net is thinner. We also know that more racial diversity has heightened White anxiety, but has hardly translated into parity in the workplace. How to explain the racial implications of these economic changes? How does thinking about the ways racial inequalities are perpetuated through structural, organizational, and interactional processes help to clarify the disparities in “good” and “bad” jobs?
At the structural level, research documents that policies in multiple settings are designed to perpetuate and maintain racial inequalities. In the political sphere, racial projects take the form of gerrymandering and voter-suppression laws that advantage Whites by minimizing Black participation in the political process, as well as their representation at various electoral levels (Omi and Winant 2013). Though less overt than in previous eras, residential racial segregation limits opportunities for interracial interactions and preserves homogenous White social networks (Bonilla-Silva 2003; Shapiro 2007). And in keeping with long-held depictions of Black youth as dangerous threats, disparities in school discipline and punishment track Black students away from advanced classes, placing them instead on a school-to-prison pipeline (Feagin 2006; Ferguson 2004). These policies are examples of structural discrimination, but they also occur in an environment where popular neoliberal ideology emphasizes shareholder profits over labor and cutting jobs to reduce the associated costs, thus weakening all workers’ prospects for securing economic stability. Consequently, the structural racism perspective highlights how policies designed to create racial inequality across multiple settings—schools, politics, the criminal justice system—intersect to make it more difficult for workers of color, and Black workers in particular, to access an ever-declining number of “good jobs.”
Organizational theories yield insights as well, by offering theoretical and empirical examples of organizational processes that maintain racial disparities between White workers and those of color. For instance, within racialized organizations, Black workers are more likely to be selectively tracked into “bad jobs” (Ray 2019). Even in “good jobs,” women of color are less likely to benefit from sponsorship relationships that facilitate their advancement into leadership roles. This occurs despite the fact that Black women in particular are more likely to express an ambition for high-ranking positions than women of other racial groups (Center for Talent Innovation 2019). These ambitions are rarely met with organizational support.
Organizational inequality regimes also include wage inequality, wherein workers of color (particularly women of color) are paid less than their White counterparts. Wilson and Rodgers (2016) document that this racial wage gap occurs even for highly educated Black workers, whose educational accomplishments do not yield wage equity with their white peers even when controlling for work experience and time with the company. Tomaskovic-Devey and Avent-Holt (2019) also note that in both “good” and “bad” jobs, workers of color have less legitimacy and standing to make claims for higher wages, more autonomy, and better workplace conditions. Ultimately, this research builds on the structural racism theories to show that within organizations, various processes such as increasing financialization and workplace fissuring channel workers of color into unstable “bad jobs” while establishing barriers to accessing the “good” ones (Weil 2014). Furthermore, if and when these workers of color do advance to the “good jobs,” they still experience wage inequality, discrimination, and blocked routes to further mobility.
These theories also offer some insights into the everyday interactions that create different outcomes for workers of color in the current economy. For instance, in examining Black workers’ Civil Rights Commission claims, Roscigno (2007) finds that they typically report various cases of racial discrimination at work, including greater scrutiny and surveillance, differential application of rules, and harsher punishments for infractions than their White colleagues. Quillian, Pager, Hexel, and Midtbøen (2017) found that anti-Black hiring discrimination has remained virtually unchanged since the 1980s. Black and Latina/o workers also report being frequently mistaken for lower status workers and excluded from key social networks (Lopez 2008; Pedulla and Pager, 2019; Wingfield 2007, 2013). Additionally, in an increasingly service-driven economy, expectations of customer and client satisfaction shape metrics and assessments for workers in health care, education, transit, and many other careers. For workers of color, racial stereotypes can make it more difficult to meet customers’ expectations.
These theories highlight that while economic inequality has increased, it cannot be divorced from the racial processes that also shape occupational outcomes. Rather, these theories show how the processes that create racial and economic inequality converge. Structural dynamics (racial formation, racialized social systems, systemic racism) set the stage for the organizational processes (credentialing, inequality regimes) that disadvantage workers of color. And in these organizational contexts, everyday interactions (heightened scrutiny, misidentification) reinforce the different and often profoundly unequal ways workers of color are treated.
An Inflection Point?
These racial and economic trends have been under way for some time. However, there are several recent developments that suggest that we may be at a turning point where these trends begin to shift again.
One obvious event that could possibly portend a change to work and racial inequality is the coronavirus pandemic. While it is too early to say conclusively how COVID has reshaped US society, there are a few interesting points to consider. For one thing, when many cities and states imposed lockdowns that closed businesses and limited interactions, this decision highlighted glaring inequities in the service sector. High status, well-paid workers in parts of the service industry such as education, information technology, or financial services had the luxury and advantage of working from home. Lower wage service sector employees such as grocery store clerks, delivery drivers, and food service workers did not enjoy these advantages, but the pandemic revealed that their work was far more essential than their pay, benefits, and status implied. It is also important to note that Black and Latino/a workers are overrepresented in many of these fields, which put them at higher risk of contracting COVID (Bureau of Labor Statistics 2020). Yet, ironically and unfortunately, many of these same lower wage jobs have shifted to a model where much of this work is available on a contract or part-time basis, or with no guarantee of health care coverage. Essentially, the pandemic underscored that while our society relies on essential workers, we do not really value them.
Apart from the effects of the pandemic, other societal changes appear to be amiss as well. Researchers and policymakers have drawn renewed public attention to widening inequality and the way it is hardly inevitable or incidental, but rather a consequence of decades of policy decisions. Piketty’s (2014) indictment of the role capitalism plays in perpetuating income inequality was an international bestseller, and 2020 survey data from Pew Research Center indicate that 70% of American citizens believe the current economic system is unfairly rigged to benefit the wealthy. Over 80% believe that politicians, wealthy households, and large corporations wield a disproportionate amount of power and influence. Pew finds wide levels of support for these propositions across income levels, indicating that even those in upper income households observe these disparities (Igielnik 2020). Consequently, mainstream conversations about income inequality and the way it is shaping American life are becoming routine and commonplace.
At the same time, majorities of Americans support (at least in the abstract) the idea that government has a role to play in reducing these inequalities. Pew data show that majorities believe this existing inequality is a problem that requires major systemic overhauls to fix. These measures range from support for taxing the wealthiest households to government investment in education and job training programs (Pew Research Center 2020). Significantly, Pew also found that over half of Americans support the federal government acting to provide “high-quality K-12 education, adequate medical care, health insurance, adequate income in retirement, and an adequate standard of living” (Pew Research Center 2020:5). Of course there are partisan divides here, but these results suggest that there is widespread support for seeing government action as a potential solution for various problems, rather than, as some political ideologies have characterized it, as the problem itself.
It is also key to note that generational shifts are driving some of these changes. Millennials, born at the turn of the century and coming of age during two major economic recessions, a once-in-a-lifetime global pandemic, and confronting a far less robust social safety net than many previous generations, perhaps unsurprisingly are more critical of capitalism and show more support for government action to redress some of the problems they associate with it. In 2019, Gallup reported that millennials’ declining opinions of capitalism were driving polling data indicating that capitalism and socialism were tied in popularity among this age group. Not only that, these young adults overall have a higher positive view of socialism (near 50%) than Generation X (34%) or baby boomers (30%) (Saad 2019).
Younger generations are also more multiracial than their predecessors, with millennials constituting one of the most racially diverse generations in recent US history. However, there is reason to be cautious here—these demographic changes do not necessarily mean ideological shifts around race and racial attitudes as well. In fact, many millennials hold racist attitudes at numbers that are comparable to their predecessors. Survey data indicate that between 20–30% of millennials believe Blacks are lazier than Whites, a number that parallels baby boomers and Generation X’ers (Johfre and Saperstein 2019). But growing numbers of millennials of color may potentially mean more voices to draw attention to issues of structural, organizational, and individual racism, particularly as these factors influence work in an already uncertain economy.
Apart from these attitudinal shifts, the successes of recent social movements are potentially relevant as well. Since it took off in 2017, one consequence of the #MeToo movement has been that many famous and powerful figures faced consequences for sexually harassing colleagues and subordinates. Additionally, one study indicated that 2 years after the movement began, fewer working women reported unwanted sexual attention and harassment at work (Johnson et al., 2019). Other major movements have also yielded successes. Following George Floyd’s killing in summer 2020, between 15 and 26 million people took part in Black Lives Matter protests, resulting in this social movement becoming the largest in US history (Buchanan, Bui, and Patel 2020). The Black Lives Matter movement has also yielded documented successes, with up to a 20% decrease in police killings in areas that had Black Lives Matter protests. Areas that held these protests also saw results in the form of higher rates of police wearing body cameras and more community policing (Campbell 2021).
Yet, these progressive movements also have their opposing counterparts. Even as #BlackLivesMatter and #MeToo have taken off in recent years, so too have movements to ensure that Whites remain in a position of social, cultural, and political power. The rise of White nationalism and White supremacy means that explicit statements and ideologies of White dominance which once were relegated to the fringe now receive more credence and support from mainstream political figures (Belew 2018). Perhaps, the most jarring recent examples of this are the failed January 6, 2021 attempt to overthrow the US government, where many insurrectionists carried flags and symbols associated with far right groups such as the Proud Boys and the Three Percenter Movement, and sitting Congressional representatives’ attempts to justify and legitimize the rioters as “peaceful protesters.”
What impact will these various changes have on work, race, and economic inequality? It is too soon to say with certainty, but they do portend possible new directions. The coronavirus pandemic exposed a stark divide between workers, and laid bare the minimal supports (worker protections, health care) available to those who do the core work necessary for a society to function. As a result, when the economy began to reopen, many retail and food service workers refused to return to low-paying jobs, particularly without the social supports of child care, health insurance, and basic worker protections. Could this potentially be the beginning of a movement in which workers drive a shift in wages, treatment, and status among “bad jobs?” Research does not yet provide concrete answers, but this is a potential area to watch.
Increasing support for government action to redress widening economic inequality may also mean that there is broad political leverage for improving these workers’ conditions and lives. With large majorities attuned to the fact that current policies have contributed to the growth in inequality, there is renewed attention to the ways that increased dependence on contract workers, declining unionization, technological changes, and increased financialization are collectively creating an economy that works well for very few. Furthermore, with most Americans in favor of government support for job training, education, child care, and health insurance, policymakers may find it an easier sell to propose legislation that strengthens the social safety net and makes it more possible for “bad jobs” to become a bit better. If these attitudinal shifts translate into sustained social movements for more economic equity, there is at least the possibility that legislative results could follow.
Successive generations are also becoming more racially diverse, which means workforces are increasingly comprised of people of color. This has not yet led to more racial diversity across occupations. But as workers of color are persistently channeled into “bad jobs” and underrepresented in “good” ones, they may perhaps be more likely to highlight the overlap between these racial and economic inequalities. In particular, workers of color in “good jobs” may decide, as discussion of systemic racism has become more mainstream, that they are willing to address the challenges and obstacles they encounter in these occupations. And as social movements around racial and gender inequality have shown some successes in creating tangible outcomes (though the rise of White nationalism threatens these goals), these workers may be more motivated to try to create more equitable workplaces. If, as early research suggests, the #MeToo movement has had a demonstrable impact on decreasing workplace harassment, this could have important consequences for Black, Latina, and Asian women workers, who are frequently dogged by racial and gendered stereotypes of hypersexuality (Chou 2012; Collins 2004).
The culmination of these events suggests that when it comes to race and work in the post-COVID era, US society is at an inflection point. There is certainly a growing understanding of the mechanisms and consequences of increasing economic and racial inequality. Additionally, there is now more social movement and political support for action that could change these. But it is also important to remember that in today’s polarized environment, popular support for policies does not necessarily yield change (Hacker and Pierson 2010). Furthermore, there is a long and extensive history of American inaction and stasis when it comes to racial progress, where even hard fought gains fail to result in racial equity because of resistance and backsliding. As Seamster and Ray (2018) point out, racial progress is rarely a straight line to improvement, but rather a path where racism and the resulting inequality routinely reinvents and repackages itself to adapt to changing norms. The rise of White nationalism and its increasing visibility in mainstream politics certainly suggests that measurable, sustained progress towards racial equity is far from inevitable.
I want to conclude by highlighting two divergent paths available from this point forward. On one path, workers continue to fault themselves for increasing inequality. Like the millennials Silva (2013) studied who blame themselves for the difficulties they face finding work in an increasingly precarious economy, these workers take an individualist approach to the systemic problems of increasing automation, outsourcing, and the dearth of “good jobs.” On this path, White workers blame the growing population of color for their occupational woes, and erroneously believe that as Whites, they now are the primary targets of racial discrimination. This tendency is encouraged by the rise of White nationalism and its increasing acceptance and legitimacy in political spheres (Feagin 2012). In this scenario, the majority of the US population lives with economic precarity, with good jobs becoming more and more rare. Workers of color remain concentrated in the “bad” ones, and the unchecked rise of White supremacy leads White workers to resist, sometimes violently, efforts to create more economic and occupational equity, especially if they suspect Black workers may benefit too. This outcome ultimately fosters more racial and economic inequality and is an enormous waste of human capital.
Another, different, path is a possibility. In this one, a multiracial coalition of Americans stands up to and forcefully denounces the rise of White nationalism, successfully punishing organizations, policymakers, and leaders who indulge its principles. Concurrently, workers are able to push for policies that actually provide necessary support, among these an increase to the minimum wage, improved support for child care, and paid sick and vacation leave time. In conjunction with this, policymakers enact—and enforce—legislation designed to combat racial workplace discrimination and protect against sexual harassment. Here, “bad jobs” take on more of the attributes of “good jobs,” erasing (or at least minimizing) the dissonance between the two. Additionally, leaders put in efforts to remedy racial disparities within organizations, reshape their cultures, and institute tangible consequences for racial harassment or abuses. This path takes concrete steps toward a future with more racial and economic equity.
It is too early to say conclusively which path the US will take. But our society is at a critical juncture where there is an opportunity to redress these racial and economic divides at a time when they are wider than ever. It remains to be seen what result we choose.
Footnotes
Acknowledgments
Thanks to the four anonymous reviewers for their thoughtful comments on this article.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
