Not long
ago, I was at an MIT Press sales conference dinner and was surprised to notice
that I was the only man at the table. In
fact, MIT has made incredible strides in gender equality. Most of the key sales, marketing and
administrative positions are held by women, and the editorial department is way
more balanced than those of many other publishers. Publishing in general has been transformed
over the past few decades by women assuming leadership roles.
So why is the record on racial inclusiveness in publishing still so
appalling? Why do I sit at sales
conference tables with dozens of very smart people season after season where
the non-white representation is nil, or almost nil? Why does book publishing still seem like a
place where, as a friend of mine described it, “white people talk to white
people?”
I can’t
speak for other publishers, (and can’t even really speak for my own) but I’ve
been in the book business long enough to know that the racial demographics in
terms of employment is abysmal. The
paucity of African-American faces is one of a couple big elephants in the publishing
room, and the lack of acknowledgment and apparent progress makes it seem as if
we’ve just given up.
The irony
here is that the university presses I represent- Harvard and Yale in
particular- routinely nurture the most extraordinary scholarship on
African-American history, slavery, economic inequality, the criminal justice
system, urban issues, and education. Their roster of author talent is an A list of
contemporary Black public intellectuals and academics, who are doing groundbreaking
research and constructing profoundly important arguments. Their work stands to materially improve quality
of life and to leverage change. It’s a
signal contribution made by university presses every season. And the fact that these stellar books have
been brought to life by talented, thoughtful white editors shows that if racism
is at work, it’s of the institutional variety, not personal.
A sales
conference is an assembly of the key in-house players, a conversation about the
ideas in forthcoming books, and a strategy-session on how to present them to
the public. When a title has special
valence for the Black community, it seems strange for members of that community
to (literally) not have a chair at the table. (I feel similarly uneasy when the recent cascade
of books on Islamism is discussed without input of Muslims.)
The point is
not diversity for diversity’s sake, as if it’s enough to just feel good about ticking that box. It’s not even simply about making it possible
for Black voices to be heard on marketing strategies for books on “Black”
topics, whatever that may mean. We’re
missing the perspective that African-American sales, marketing and editorial
personnel would bring to the entire publishing
program. Why wouldn’t discussion of environmental
studies, classical music, digital humanities and ornithology titles not be just
as enriched by a more representative staff?
How might the seasonal lists look different had the books been acquired and
shepherded through the pre-publication gauntlet by black editors?
The most
common explanation I’ve heard for why the problem is so intractable goes
something like this: there’s a lot of competition in the corporate and
financial world for strong African-American candidates, and publishing simply
can’t compete on salaries.
I’m sure
there’s some truth in that, although leaving it there seems a little convenient.
If the book industry in the US is to survive and grow, publishers have to find ways to increase the number
of nonwhite professionals in their ranks at all levels- administrative,
editorial, marketing, publicity, book design, financial, digital, sales reps.
There’s an obituary
written for legacy publishing just about daily.
The causes cited are technological, or competing platforms, or e-book
pricing, or self-publishing, or a dozen other predictable villains. But I think there’s a bigger threat to the future of books: the
prospect of publishing houses that, internally, look less and less like the
country. White people talking to white
people.
Sorry, I
don’t have a killer app to solve this. But I don’t believe in the notion that
you can’t talk about an issue unless you do. More headway might be made by
starting with the obvious- acknowledging the problem, designing plans and
benchmarks to measure progress, and- most importantly- making sure that
everything possible is being done to make the working environment a welcoming
one for people of color. Perhaps these
things have made it to someone’s agenda, but I haven’t heard the issue addressed in years, and the results speak for themselves.
My presses
have been incredibly great places to work, and book publishing is a fantastic
way to spend a career. People tend to
stay in their positions for a long time.
But we’re in the midst of a great generational turning of the page as
the valiant sixties generation begins to cede the reins. It’s a perfect time for publishers to renew
their commitment to actively finding non-white talent to fill some of those
slots.
Hard to do. But the presses have broken ground in all
sorts of ways, and I don’t doubt their capacity to lead on this one. They have some built-in advantages: the
resources of three great universities; a battery of African-American authorial
talent; and the ability to still do the long-term, big picture thinking that
escapes most other enterprises in our short term quick buck age.
We might
take a page from some of the booksellers who have faced the same challenge of
staffing their stores in a representative way.
The vast
majority of booksellers I visit every season are, like my colleagues at the sales
conference table, white. But Left Bank
Books in St Louis has always stood out for its multiracial, multigender,
eclectic bookselling staff. The composition
seems organic, not token. When the
horror of Ferguson unfolded, Left Bank responded- as readers, as booksellers,
as citizens. Co-owner Kris Kleindienst
was surprised when their efforts got so much attention, since “it just felt
like what you do.” One thing they do is
to think hard and often about serving their entire community.
I asked Kris
why she thought the issue of racial composition in publishing and bookselling
gets such scant attention.
“So many
white people who are very well-intentioned have actually spent very little time
talking about race, confronting privilege, examining implicit bias,” she
said. “Very articulate people stumble
when asked why there aren’t more people of color in their professional
worlds. But the language about race, the meaningful conversations, have
to be learned. If we want to address it, we have to commit to doing some hard
looking at ourselves, commit to un-learning that racism, and also to
interrupting it where we see it in action. This is a life-long process that
doesn’t stop. But it is so worth it.”
Word.