Going from Section 8 housing and food stamps to a professorship at Stanford is extraordinary. It is impossible to read in The Daily, “I am more than a researcher, but Stanford doesn’t care,” criticizing the University administration for not standing more firmly in defense of DEI, and not be impressed. Professor Elliott White is justifiably proud of what he has accomplished, and I am guessing that almost every reader felt a deep sense of both respect and admiration for his work. It is ironic that the author’s own experience, rather than an argument for supporting DEI at Stanford, is actually an argument for removing the practice.
I, like many in the Stanford community, grew up in a middle class household where education was highly valued. When I arrived at my undergraduate institution I knew where I was. Not so for my now lifelong closest friend. You see, like White, he grew up in poverty in the South. After his high school counselor suggested he apply to Rice University, the first hurdle was finding a place to take the SAT — it was not offered in the state where he lived. The next hurdle was getting to Houston for the admissions interview. His mother’s boyfriend needed to go to Houston for a job interview, so he offered to give him a lift. Only, the boyfriend got drunk the night before, delaying the trip by a day, and my friend missed the interview. When you grow up in poverty, you do not know to call and explain the situation, so my friend did not.
But in the early 80’s, universities were looking for bright people like my friend, and admission officers had different expectations. His admissions officer called him to find out what happened, and they rescheduled the interview for the next day. I wish that once he was admitted he outshone all his peers. He did not. He studied engineering and graduated with a C average. Transitioning from a life in poverty to an elite university is difficult. Today he owns a $300 million engineering company making devices that nobody else in the world can make. Rice University transformed him.
I am recounting this story because there is little doubt in my mind that had this happened today, the admissions officer would not have made the call. You see, my friend is white. Admissions officers are no longer looking for young bright people who grew up in unfortunate circumstances. At about the turn of the century, university policies changed. Universities are now looking for under-represented minorities, unapologetically touting their advances in this area. The specific circumstances under which students grew up no longer matters. Good luck if you are a low-income white or Asian man. What matters is whether the race group a student comes from is under-represented. Professor White argues for a system that bases decisions on race, while his own experience catalogued the cost of such a system.
It used to be that universities like Stanford were where wealthy parents sent their kids to learn how to join the high society to which they were destined. Lower-income, bright kids went to Berkeley. But after WWII and the GI Bill, private universities like Stanford became places that provided opportunities to bright young minds from all strata in society. America’s private universities rose to dominate the world. The benefits accrued to everybody, because graduates contributed to society in a way that they could not have done without the education. The system relies on the continued largesse of Stanford’s rich alumni, who take great pride in taking part in this transformation. Unfortunately, and for good reason, they take much less pride in being part of a system that treats people differently based on their race.
If you are unlucky enough to draw the poverty card, it does not matter what race you belong to. You drew the card anyway. What matters is what you do with the card. If you are the child of a maid working 60 hours a week, it does not matter if your parents are Filipino or African-American. The only thing that matters is who you are and what you would do with the gift of Stanford education. Professor White’s story is not a story of being black, it is a story of what can happen if you provide an education to somebody born into disadvantage. Certainly, a larger percentage of black students are disadvantaged than white ones, but if you are born poor, you are poor. What race you belong to does not alter the fact that you are an individual that had a bad draw and have a right to be treated as such.
Based on my past experiences writing opinion pieces for The Daily, I fully anticipate a deluge of comments reacting to this essay. If history is any guide, they will take the form of ad hominem arguments calling me unsympathetic and pointing out that because I am not black myself, I have no right to even make my argument. I know the issues I raise strike deep emotionally, but before you put your finger to the keyboard, I challenge you to ask yourself the following question: Do you really want to live in a world where people are treated differently based on the race they belong to?
Jonathan Berk is an A.P. Giannini Professor of Finance at the Stanford Graduate School of Business.
