A new documentary series in the Netherlands titled ‘The White Man’ explores what happens now that the white man’s self-evident position of power is under pressure. What happens to you when you are no longer the norm by default?
I haven’t seen the series yet, but I will soon (and will write about it here).
The question the series raises is something I’m reflecting on often: what is my place in a debate in which my perspective is already so dominant? Or, at least, where people like me are already omnipresent. When do I contribute something useful, and when do I mainly take up space again?
When watching television yesterday, a popular talk show discussed this week’s most pressing societal and political topics, with four white men and one white woman. The presenter was white too. The discussion was interesting and, as far as I could tell, there was nothing inherently wrong with what was being said. Yet there were obviously perspectives missing. There was a discussion about migrants without a representative of migrants, and there was a statement about farmers without a farmer in the studio; if the opinion makers are all from the same kind of background, it is easier to talk about people instead of with people.
I’ve also noticed that it’s often the human side that is missing. White men in the Netherlands are excellent at talking about efficiency, costs, and winning versus losing. They’re not good at complicating the narrative and adding a human aspect or nuance to the discussion.
Diversity isn’t just about who is sitting at the table. It’s also about who isn’t. The questions that are being asked, what is considered important knowledge, and which reality is taken as a starting point: these are all journalistic choices that shape the direction of a conversation.
Niki van Wijk, co-founder of the Dutch Klimaatjournaal, reflected on the documentary after watching the first episode. Her conclusion was that it reminded her, again, that “as white people, we’re better off listening, asking questions, or remaining silent”.
Why does that thought hardly penetrate the media?
It also makes me think about my own contributions. There are already so many white people talking, analyzing, explaining, and interpreting the world. Why add another voice?
I’ve come to realize through decolonial studies that the answer is not about disappearing from the debate altogether. That would be too easy. It is about writing from the awareness of my own position, and using that as a starting point for reflection.
One dynamic I’ve been seeing since I focused on inclusivity and decolonial critique is how easily white people can end up calling out other white people. It can feel more comfortable to align ourselves with people of colour who are fighting for justice than to look critically at our own people. Even though “white” encompasses multiple identities and people, that would be one of the first things to explore. If we don’t look inwards, examine the ways whiteness shapes our experiences, and ask why listening can be so difficult, we risk reproducing the same dynamics we say we want to change.
The talk show I mention above, and some previous debates that come to mind where white people made up the majority, make me think about this in another way. The conversation among them is often focused on efficiency, costs, laws, policies, and “us versus them”, and much less on pointing out the human aspect of topics. That might be a colonial leftover. How can we change this?
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