Whiteness as Property

by Cheryl I. Harris

The legal legacy of slavery and of the seizure of land from Native American peoples is not merely a regime of property law that is (mis)informed by racist and ethnocentric themes. Rather, the law has established and protected an actual property interest in whiteness itself, which shares the critical characteristics of property and accords with the many and varied theoretical descriptions of property.

Although by popular usage property describes "things" owned by persons, or the rights of persons with respect to a thing, the concept of property prevalent among most theorists, even prior to the twentieth century, is that property may "consist[] of rights in 'things' that are intangible, or whose existence is a matter of legal definition." Property is thus said to be a right, not a thing, characterized as metaphysical, not physical. The theoretical bases and conceptual descriptions of property rights are varied, ranging from first possessor rules, to creation of value, to Lockean labor theory, to personality theory, to utilitarian theory. However disparate, these formulations of property clearly illustrate the extent to which property rights and interests embrace much more than land and personalty. Thus, the fact that whiteness is not a "physical" entity does not remove it from the realm of property.

Whiteness is not simply and solely a legally recognized property interest. It is simultaneously an aspect of self-identity and of personhood, and its relation to the law of property is complex. Whiteness has functioned as self- identity in the domain of the intrinsic, personal, and psychological; as reputation in the interstices between internal and external identity; and, as property in the extrinsic, public, and legal realms. According whiteness actual legal status converted an aspect of identity into an external object of property, moving whiteness from privileged identity to a vested interest. The law's construction of whiteness defined and affirmed critical aspects of identity (who is white); of privilege (what benefits accrue to that status); and, of property (what legal entitlements arise from that status). Whiteness at various times signifies and is deployed as identity, status, and property, sometimes singularly, sometimes in tandem.

Genres: Race, Nonfiction, History, Essays, Theory, Politics, Anti Racist

85 pages, Unknown Binding

First published June 1, 1993

Reviews

[Leman · Rating 5 out of 5]

A seminal paper on how racial discrimination perpetuated whiteness as the entitlement to economic and political benefits, fierce attempts to preserve these privileges (property) and the essence of the affirmative action.

[Gabriella · Rating 4 out of 5]

I read this as an 85-page PDF, and was happy to find that it counts as a book on Goodreads (anything to feel like less of a failure for being in a personal reading slump due to the behemoth of school reading assignments!) Cheryl Harris constructs a helpful argument that could be especially useful if you are interested in debunking the objectivity of legal frameworks used for affirmative action cases.

As a planner, the first part of this book challenged me a bit, because my field usually sees property as a fixed (and physical) cosntruct. Once I was able to buy into Harris' argument about the evolution of the definitions and functions of property over the course of time, it all became really helpful and interesting. I think her concept of the property interest in whiteness can help readers follow the many legal and political processes in our society, not least of which include the ever-changing paths of uneven development.

Here is my reading response from class, in case any are interested in further/scrambled planning thoughts! The text I quote in this response without a full reference is Sherene Razack's introduction to Race, Space, and the Law: Unmapping a White Settler Society.

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“The national mythologies of white settler societies are deeply spatialized stories…the story installs Europeans as entitled to the land, a claim that is codified in law” (Razack 2002, 3).

“Only particular forms of possession—those that were characteristic of white settlement—would be recognized and legitimated. [Indigenous] forms of possession were perceived to be too ambiguous and unclear” (Harris 1993, 1722).

This week, I was most drawn to Cheryl Harris’ arguments about the connections between settler colonialism, land theft, and the evolution of whiteness as property. During the colonization of what would become America, the legal system defined land possession only through the cultural practices of white settlers. Harris explains how this definition nullified the property rights of Indigenous people, and provided legal cover for violent practices of dispossession and genocide.

For me, this really drove home that our legal system’s definitions are *choices*, not something that is inherent, fixed, or intuitive. This connects to the quote I’ve shared from Razack’s introduction—so many of the legal doctrines that dictate the possession and conception of space are literally figments of settler colonial imaginations! The bad part, of course, is that these figments (which shape what George Lipsitz calls the white spatial imaginary) are deadly.

Harris and Razack offer strong evidence for how our superstructures (namely the legal system) define property rights as something you can only gain if you practice white forms of settlement. To uphold this definition, the superstructure must constantly negate alternative forms of land possession, including the ones Indigenous people practiced for centuries. To counter these negations, many planners and geographers study these alternative forms, which I am reluctant to call land possession—maybe land relation is better?

One strong example of alternate land relations is the “right to the projects” being articulated by public housing residents throughout the African Diaspora. Priscilla Vaz’s 2018 dissertation, City of God(desses): from a place of necessity to a space of politics, chronicles the fight of Afro-Brazilian women in the City of God housing project and favela in Rio de Janeiro. These women use underground solidarity economies and familial connections as key tactics in their fight for “the right to the favela” (Vaz 2018, 127). Their resistance to state-sanctioned displacement is a strong example of how people can make decolonial land claims given their multigenerational ties to a space and their deployment of collective ownership structures. Akira Drake Rodriguez’s 2021 book, Diverging Space for Deviants: The Politics of Atlanta’s Public Housing , offers a more local example of this fight. Her study of tenant activism investigates “which group has the right to make claims on the state” (Rodriguez 2021, 46). This question is a central element of land possession, and Rodriguez’s answer points to Atlanta’s unique potential for demobilization and dispossession. As Atlanta’s urban regime privatized and demolished its public housing stock, this regime leveled a resounding denial of public housing residents’ right to govern and remain in their homes. In Rodriguez’s opinion, this phenomenon has an easy (and spatial) explanation that connects back to our weekly readings:

“the space of public housing soon became too valuable to diverge for deviant purposes. Just as it happened to Indigenous peoples, slum dwellers, and residents in blighted communities over the last two centuries, public housing residents in the 1990s were legislatively othered, politically excluded, and forcibly displaced. Those who supported and conformed to white supremacist spatial logics profited” (Rodriguez 2021, 173.)

I also am encouraged by (and proud to take part in) alternative forms of land relation that shape rural and queer geographies. These include collective ownership structures like heirs property; homecoming and reunion traditions that involve pilgrimages to “family land”; practices of land stewardship; North Carolina’s robust Black cooperative tradition; and the delightfully messy legacy of queer housing cooperatives. Each of these alternative forms of land relation challenge the property interest in whiteness in their own ways, and my work as a planner is greatly improved by all of them.

[J · Rating 4 out of 5]

I didn't actually finish this because it was too technical ! But so so interesting nonetheless. I'd like to go try it again. I would really recommend even skimming it!

[Stella Hansen · Rating 5 out of 5]

Seminal to the point that the discussions and opinions of white people about Whiteness in settler colonies shouldn’t happen without prior reading

[Norah Rami · Rating 5 out of 5]

reread this to procrastinate writing my finals because this is the genius i want to embody

[Gabriel H. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Dense and sometimes difficult to someone only slightly familiar with academic legal writing, but rigorous, infuriating, and excellent. Reframing the concept of property as fundamentally one of "expectations + power" (I am being a little reductive) was super useful, as was the concluding discussion of distributive vs. corrective justice and the ways American affirmative action discourse tends to get waylaid by concepts of sin and the guilty vs. the innocent (sadly still as relevant now as when it was published). Trying to do more actual reading of theory as opposed to just yelling abt it on the internet this year lol.

[Rosie K. · Rating 5 out of 5]

Read for AAS/GOV Asian American Jurisprudence, Spring 2021. This class, the professor, and this reading are awesome.

[Raiya · Rating 5 out of 5]

Single most important text I've read. It is a must-read for all peoples who consider America home.

[Jason Lawler · Rating 4 out of 5]

!!!!

[Nathan · Rating 4 out of 5]

Re-read

[Mary Kristasatryan · Rating 4 out of 5]

this lowkey expanded my mind and sociology is sooo philosophy sometimes

[OvercommuniKate · Rating 2 out of 5]

I like the thesis, since whiteness offered benefits that include financial and social benefits. Thus whiteness became a property that was desirable to posses. Which is a very long way to say that "passing" helped someone stay financial and socially safe.

However, I thought the actual legal analysis of property theory was thin. From the title and introduction, I was expecting the author to connect race to property in a more complex manner.

My dislike of the analysis is surely because I find the construction dated, but it was a deeply unsatisfying read.

[Komal · Rating 3 out of 5]

Very insightful book on how whiteness developed in America and how class also played an important role.