Looking At Cam Newton Through The Lens Of Jack Johnson

Throughout history, people have cultivated their own self-identity by orienting themselves against contrasting social groups. By outlining the different physical and social behavior of others, individuals defined their own existence and re-affirmed their self-perceptions. F. Scott Fitzgerald challenged the natural propensity to neatly classify the human experience when he said, “Show me a hero, and I’ll write you a tragedy."

Jack Johnson and Cam Newton are the most visible representations of external figures attempting to project their own self-conceptions and anxieties onto the actions of others. While the overt racist vitriol shouted at Johnson in the early 1900's was reflective of the gradual hardening of Jim Crow America and a reaction to his threat to racial norms, recent condemnation of Newton’s on-field behavior, mainly his post-touchdown celebrations and the dabbing, have similarly mirrored the social environment of this modern time. Just as there have been attempts in modern society to obscure the systematic mistreatment of African-Americans, the “it’s not race” argument surrounding Cam Newton from both the black and white media have been suggested to deflect attention away from the maintenance of racial boundaries more than a hundred years since Johnson. Horror over Johnson and Newton’s individualism have shown the urgency to precisely project onto others dichotomous categorizations of good versus evil, rather than recognizing that all people fit into a gray area somewhere between “heroism” and “tragedy.”

White anxiety towards Johnson was entrenched in his unwillingness to comply with the athletic and social standards of his race in the early 20th century. He drove fast, dated the woman he wanted, and was a symbolic precursor to Muhammad Ali. The duplicity of the term “unforgivable blackness” in Ken Burns’s 2005 Jack Johnson documentary not only reflected Johnson’s egoism to live “without the dictation of any man," but also how he “unforgivably” distorted white self-identity. In her fantastic piece on Cam Newton, Kate Aguilar pointed out, “Black culture cannot fully exist separate from White cultural practices as they each, in part, define themselves against and through the other.” Whiteness has always been filtered through its juxtaposition to blackness, and white superiority can only be defined through that very contrast. Johnson recalled about his Fight of the Century with James Jeffries in 1910 in Reno, “Hardly a blow been struck when I knew that I was Jeff’s master," showing how white masculinity could not be defined through the inferior and subservient “other" because of Johnson's boxing prowess.

Sports often function as a bodily performance of a particular identity and facilitate formations of masculinity, so Johnson’s conspicuous domination of the white male body arose widespread unease over the reversal of the power relationship between the two races. The fight between Johnson and Jeffries was halted prior to “the great white hope,” being knocked out because the image of a black men standing over a white man would symbolically assert Johnson’s agency. In a voiceover in the Ken Burns documentary, William Pickens said, “Better for Johnson to win and a few Negroes to be killed in body for it, than for Johnson to have lost and all Negroes to be killed in spirit by the preachment of inferiority from the combined white press." When blacks were treated as inferior non-entities under the boxing color line in the 1900s, they were a product of white manifestations, but by Johnson defining himself independent of external social agents, he became a menace to white self-perception. Unlike when heavyweight champion John Sullivan refused to fight any black boxers during his reign as title holder from 1885 to 1892, which allowed the white man to set himself against the non-being black man, Johnson’s victory called into question white self-perception. The idea that the masculine supremacy that Johnson showed in the ring would extend to all political and social spheres of life created a discernible and explicit animosity towards the impetus of that movement, even if Johnson did not see himself functionally acting as a symbol of blackness.

Whereas Johnson was overtly attacked because of his “unforgiveable blackness,” the portrayal of Cam Newton as disrespectful and arrogant have come out of a more implicitly defined uncertainty over how his blackness defines those around him. The psychological projections of white individuals have been exhibited through the media’s discourse around Newton. After the quarterback abruptly walked out of his post-game Super Bowl press conference, former NFL player Bill Romanowski tweeted, “You will never last in the NFL with that attitude. The world doesn’t revolve around you, boy!” 

While Romanowski’s tweet may ostensibly seem like a referendum on Newton’s lack of post-game sportsmanship, it was a not so well hidden code for the racial underpinnings that promote only specific types of normative behaviors. In his terrific examination of Peyton Manning as "The NFL's Great White Hope," aligning the external perceptions of Jeffries with the public's orientation towards Manning, Andrew McGregor referenced the idea of “produced whiteness that downplays racial difference." While Romanowski may not have as explicitly projected his racial angst towards Newton like people did in the past towards Johnson, he clearly implied it through his rhetoric. By referring to Newton as “boy,” his comments showed the continued evaluation of blacks as not having the capabilities to develop into socially accepted men. 

Even if Romanowski somehow did not intentionally direct his comments at Newton with racial malice, which is highly doubtful from someone who previously said he would "try to get him by the neck and choke him at the bottom of the pile," the linguistic connotations of the word “boy” speak to a prevailing subconscious desire to differentiate whiteness from blackness. McGregor acknowledged that, “behavioral critiques of non-white athletes rely on race,” even when race may supposedly be dissociated from the actual content of what an individual is saying. Romanowski continued a line of dehumanizing blacks for their behavior that is heavily steeped in a historically racial power structure.

For all the idiocy of The League, one of the most pointed scenes of the show was in season two when the guys discussed how code words are always used to intentionally or even unintentionally describe players based upon their race. Key and Peele similarly satirized how sportscasters are so prone to race based categorizations of athletes.

(The audio of the scene is from 3:25-4:15)

Key and Peele sketch

Everyone subconsciously partakes in this use of language, like how we all called Aaron Craft a terrific "coach on the floor" for Ohio State or how we always reference the terrific motor of J.J. Watt. Kenny Vacarro pointed this out when asked about Andrew Luck's "deceptive speed," saying, "Not deceptive. Just because he's white doesn't mean he's deceptive. He's actually a great athlete."

The divisive reactions to Johnson and Newton were similarly extended to their reflection on the black community itself, furthering proving that individuals function in society as reflections of other’s projections of them. The fears of upper and middle class blacks of Johnson were manifested in his strand of “blackness.” In the Ken Burns documentary, Booker T. Washington said of Johnson, “A man with muscle minus brains is a useless creature,” because his perception of black progress was rooted in individual educational growth rather than directly “fighting” social inequality. Washington was wary of Johnson’s open dissent of established rules of conformity, particularly his miscegenation with white women. By arousing fears amongst white men of removing the purity of what they perceived to be “their women,” Johnson was not the exemplar of black representation that Washington had hoped would promote black discipline.

While the criticism of Cam Newton has been less explicit, it has similarly been formulated based upon a lack of comfort with what he represents. In response to Ryan Clark’s comments that “it wasn’t racism at work, but culture,” Kate Aguilar pointed out that “his culture is a part of a racial framework.” Not only did Clark misconceive of the interdependency of race and culture, but he even more importantly attributed the criticism of Newton to his divergent culture, subconsciously implying that black culture, a manifestation of race, could not in itself be a form of culturally accepted expressionism.