Olivia: A 2016 study found that a résumé with a white-sounding name, like 'L. James Smith,' was almost twice as likely to get a callback as the exact same résumé with the name 'Lamar J. Smith.' The bias is literally in the first glance. Jackson: Wow. That’s not just a small difference, that’s double. It feels like there’s this invisible force tilting the scales before the game even starts. It’s a gut punch, really. Olivia: That single data point is the uncomfortable reality at the heart of the book we’re diving into today: Uncomfortable Conversations with a Black Man by Emmanuel Acho. Jackson: Right, and Acho's background is so unique for this. He's not an academic, he's a former NFL linebacker and the son of Nigerian immigrants. He describes himself as having a "study abroad in white culture" growing up, and then a deep immersion in Black culture in college and the NFL. Olivia: Exactly. And this book exploded onto the scene right after the murder of George Floyd, starting as a viral, Emmy-winning video series. It became this massive cultural touchstone because it offered a space for questions people were too afraid to ask. Jackson: It was a moment where a lot of people realized they didn't have the vocabulary for the conversation. Olivia: And that 'invisible force' we mentioned is exactly where Acho starts. He argues that before we can even talk about big systems, we have to look at the faulty software running in our own heads.

Jackson: Faulty software. I like that. It takes the blame out of it, but not the responsibility. So where does he begin with that? Olivia: He starts with a concept we’ve all heard but maybe don’t fully grasp: implicit bias. And he uses this absolutely wild story from 2015 involving Google. Jackson: Google? What did they do? Olivia: Well, they launched their new Google Photos app, which had this brilliant AI feature that could automatically tag your photos. It could recognize your friends, your dog, your car... Jackson: Oh yeah, I remember that. It was kind of magical and a little creepy. Olivia: Totally. But then a Black computer programmer named Jacky Alciné was looking through his photos and discovered the algorithm had created a new album for him. The label on the album was "Gorillas." Jackson: Oh, no. You're kidding. Olivia: Not at all. It had tagged photos of him and his girlfriend, both Black, as gorillas. He tweeted it, and it just blew up. Google's chief social architect responded almost immediately, horrified, and they rushed to fix it. Jackson: Whoa. So the machine is racist? But a human had to build it. How does that even happen? Was it a malicious programmer? Olivia: That’s the crux of implicit bias. It wasn't malicious. The problem was the data. The algorithm was likely trained on a dataset of photos that was overwhelmingly white. It hadn't been taught to "see" the full spectrum of human faces, so when it encountered something outside its narrow parameters, it defaulted to a horrific, deeply ingrained stereotype. Jackson: That is fascinating and awful. But it raises the key question: if it’s unconscious, if even a giant corporation like Google can do it by accident, how are we as individuals responsible? And how do you even begin to fix a bias you don't know you have? Olivia: Acho's answer is that the first step is just acknowledging the software is there. You don't have to know you're racist for the damage to be done. He even shares a personal story about his own bias. He was watching a high school track meet, and the fastest sprinter, in the best lane, was a white kid named Matthew Boling. Jackson: And Acho was surprised? Olivia: He was. As a former track athlete, he had this "joke-not-joke" in his head from his old team: "Don't let the white kid beat you." And here was this white kid who not only won but set a record. It was a moment for him to check his own programming. Jackson: Huh. So it's about catching those little moments of surprise or assumption in yourself. Olivia: Exactly. And this idea of invisible, unearned factors leads directly to the most charged term in the whole book: white privilege. Jackson: Okay, let's go there. This is the one that trips so many people up. Olivia: For sure. And Acho uses a brilliant analogy to explain it. He says, imagine a 400-meter race. But before the race starts, one runner is held at the starting line for 200 meters. They're shackled. Then, the starting gun fires, and the other runner takes off. Jackson: Okay, I'm with you. Olivia: After the first runner has a massive head start, the official comes back, unshackles the second runner, and says, "Okay, you're free now! The race is fair. Go compete." That 200-meter head start is white privilege. It's the advantage gained over centuries of the other person being held back. Jackson: That's a powerful image. But I have to ask the question that always comes up. I get the analogy, but it feels like it falls apart for me when I think about a poor white person in Appalachia. They don't feel privileged. They're struggling. How does Acho address that? Olivia: He tackles that head-on. He says white privilege is not the suggestion that white people's lives are easy. It's the reality that their race is not one of the things making it harder. It’s what Peggy McIntosh called the "invisible knapsack" of unearned assets. Jackson: An invisible knapsack? What's in it? Olivia: Simple things. The ability to walk into a store and not be followed by security. The power to see people who look like you in positions of power, in history books, on TV. The benefit of the doubt from police. It's not about having money; it's about the absence of a specific set of racial barriers. Jackson: The absence of a headwind. You might still be climbing a steep hill, but the wind isn't blowing directly in your face because of your skin color. Olivia: That's the perfect way to put it. And that idea—that it's not about individual hardship but about the rules of the game—is the perfect bridge to where Acho takes us next. He argues these individual biases actually built the entire system. The game itself is rigged.

Jackson: Okay, that's a big leap. From unconscious thoughts and an "invisible knapsack" to a fully rigged system. How does he connect those dots? Olivia: He argues that the system isn't accidentally racist; it was designed with these biases built-in. He points to the Thirteenth Amendment, the one that abolished slavery. Jackson: The one everyone celebrates. Olivia: Right. But he points to the fine print. It says, "Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist." Jackson: Hold on. "Except as a punishment for crime." That's a huge loophole. You're saying the amendment that abolished slavery actually created a backdoor for it? Olivia: That's exactly what he's saying. Immediately after the Civil War, Southern states passed "Black Codes"—laws that criminalized things like vagrancy or not having a job. These laws were used to arrest newly freed Black men en masse. Once convicted, they could be leased out to plantations and corporations as free labor. It was slavery by another name, sanctioned by the Constitution. Jackson: That is chilling. So the legal system itself had a trapdoor built in from the very beginning. Olivia: A trapdoor. And that's just one example. He then turns to the economy, specifically homeownership, which is the primary way most American families build wealth. He talks about a practice called redlining. Jackson: I've heard the term, but I'm not sure I could define it. Olivia: In the 1930s, the Federal Housing Administration was created to help people get home loans. But its chief economist, a man named Homer Hoyt, created a system to rank neighborhoods by risk. Neighborhoods with white, Protestant families were marked in green—safe to lend to. Neighborhoods with Black and other minority families were marked in red. Jackson: Redlined. Olivia: Exactly. If you lived in a redlined area, you were denied a government-backed mortgage. This forced Black families into predatory loans or kept them renting, while white families were actively building generational wealth through their homes. This wasn't the action of a few racist bankers; this was official government policy for decades. Jackson: Okay, now I really see it. It's a one-two punch. You're locked out of the economy through things like redlining, and if you stumble, the justice system is waiting with this historical trapdoor. The 'house always wins,' as Acho says. Olivia: The house always wins. And that's the definition of systemic racism. It's not just about individual feelings or actions. It's about a system designed to produce unequal outcomes. Jackson: This all feels so huge and overwhelming. If the system is this broken, what can one person possibly do? Where does Acho leave us? Does he offer any hope? Olivia: He does. He says that once you see the system, you can't unsee it. And that's when the real work begins. It's the shift from "Us and Them" to "We."

Jackson: So what does that "We" look like? How do we move from just understanding the problem to actually being part of the solution? Olivia: Acho is very clear that it's about allyship. But not the kind you see on Instagram. Not a black square or a hashtag. He defines it as a verb, an action, and it often comes with a cost. Jackson: A cost? What do you mean? Olivia: He tells this incredible story from the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City. The American sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos won gold and bronze in the 200-meter dash. They planned to use the medal ceremony to protest racial injustice in America by raising a black-gloved fist. Jackson: The iconic Black Power salute. I know that image. Olivia: Right. But there's a third man on that podium, the silver medalist. A white sprinter from Australia named Peter Norman. Smith and Carlos told him their plan right before they went out. Carlos had forgotten his gloves, and it was Norman who suggested they each wear one. Jackson: Wow, so he was in on it from the start. Olivia: More than that. He saw they were wearing badges for the Olympic Project for Human Rights, and he asked if he could wear one, too. He wanted to stand with them. So, in that iconic photo, you see Smith and Carlos with their heads bowed and fists raised, and you see Peter Norman, standing tall, wearing that same badge in solidarity. Jackson: That's incredible. He didn't just agree, he participated. But he was ostracized for it back home, right? His career was over. Olivia: Completely. He was a pariah in Australia. He was the fastest sprinter in the country but wasn't even sent to the next Olympics. His act of allyship cost him everything. When he died in 2006, Tommie Smith and John Carlos were the pallbearers at his funeral. Jackson: That gives me chills. It makes you wonder what 'allyship' really costs, and if most people are prepared for that. Olivia: And that's Acho's point. He argues that real allyship isn't performative; it comes with risk. It's not about being a 'white savior,' a term he borrows from critics like Teju Cole who warn against the "White Savior Industrial Complex." It's about using your privilege to amplify and stand in solidarity, even when it costs you something. Jackson: So it's not about swooping in to fix things for Black people. It's about standing alongside them and being willing to share the risk. Olivia: Precisely. It's about being willing to have the uncomfortable conversation with your uncle at Thanksgiving. It's about challenging a racist joke at work. It's about using your voice and your position to push back against the system, even in small ways.

Jackson: So it's a journey. It starts with looking inward at our own faulty software, our own biases. Then it's about understanding the rigged system we're all participating in. And finally, it's about choosing to act, even if it's uncomfortable or risky. Olivia: That's it. Acho's final point is that racism was man-made, so it can be unmade. He uses a football analogy, of course. He says this book, this conversation, is just the huddle. It's where we call the play. But the real work, the part that matters, happens when we break the huddle and go run that play on the field. Jackson: I love that. The talking is just the strategy session. The game is out there. Olivia: Exactly. And he leaves us with a question, borrowing from the great civil rights leader John Lewis. What 'good trouble,' what necessary trouble, are you willing to get into? Jackson: That's the perfect question to sit with. It’s not asking for perfection, just a willingness to get a little messy for a good cause. We'd love to hear your thoughts on this. What does being an ally mean to you? Find us on our socials and continue the conversation. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.