In a nation that prides itself on the American Dream, the accumulation of vast wealth should theoretically provide a buffer against insecurity. Yet, for many wealthy white individuals and institutions, success does little to alleviate a deep-seated anxiety about Black people. No matter their fortunes or influence, Black lives, achievements, and mere existence seem to occupy an outsized space in their psyches, manifesting in books that demean Black intelligence, policies that undermine Black progress, and millions funneled into organizations that perpetuate racial hierarchies. This obsession isn’t new, but in 2025, amid a resurgence of anti-DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) efforts and political shifts, it’s more evident than ever. From pseudoscientific tracts like The Bell Curve to the sprawling networks of billionaires like the Koch brothers, this article delves into how white wealth often fuels anti-Black agendas. It examines historical patterns, modern examples, and the psychological underpinnings, revealing that true comfort eludes those who view Black advancement as a zero-sum threat to their own status.
The Pseudoscientific Assault: Books That Pathologize Black Intelligence
A cornerstone of this unease is the long-standing tradition of white elites producing “scholarly” works that frame Black people as intellectually inferior, justifying systemic barriers under the guise of science. The 1994 book The Bell Curve by Richard Herrnstein and Charles Murray exemplifies this, positing that IQ differences between racial groups— with Black Americans scoring lower on average—are partially genetic and linked to social outcomes like poverty and crime. Despite being debunked by experts for relying on flawed data and ignoring environmental factors such as education disparities and racism, the book influenced policy debates, advocating for cuts to social programs that disproportionately aid Black communities. Murray, affiliated with the conservative American Enterprise Institute, wasn’t a lone voice; his work echoed eugenicist ideas and resonated with elites eager to attribute inequality to biology rather than injustice.
This trend persists into the 21st century. Murray himself revisited similar themes in later works, such as Human Diversity (2020), which explores genetic differences in traits like intelligence across groups, nodding to caution but still courting controversy by implying racial variations. In Facing Reality: Two Truths about Race in America (2021), he doubles down, arguing that racial differences in cognitive ability and crime rates must be acknowledged to address societal issues, framing Black underperformance as a “reality” that threatens national stability. Other books in this vein include Race Differences in Intelligence: An Evolutionary Analysis by Richard Lynn (2006, revised 2015), which reviews global IQ data to claim evolutionary roots for racial disparities, validity questioned by critics for methodological biases. These texts aren’t mere academic exercises; they provide intellectual cover for policies that hinder Black mobility, revealing an obsession where white authors, secure in their credentials, feel compelled to “prove” Black inferiority. As one critique notes, such works revive the “inequality taboo,” stoking fears that equalizing opportunities would erode white advantages.
Billionaire Influence: The Koch Network and Sustained Anti-Black Funding
Wealth amplifies these fears, turning personal anxieties into institutional power. The Koch brothers—Charles and the late David—built a $100+ billion empire through Koch Industries, yet devoted immense resources to networks that often align with preserving racial inequities. Their flagship group, Americans for Prosperity (AFP), has poured hundreds of millions into conservative causes, including opposition to affirmative action, voting rights expansions, and discussions of systemic racism. Rooted in libertarian ideology with ties to the John Birch Society’s anti-civil rights stance, the Kochs funded efforts to suppress Black voter turnout and frame racial equity as “divisive.”
Recent updates in 2024-2025 show the network’s evolution but persistent impact. In 2025, AFP launched a $20 million campaign backing Trump-era tax breaks, a “herculean undertaking” to deepen cuts that disproportionately benefit the wealthy while exacerbating racial wealth gaps. The network reorganized as “Stand Together,” channeling $176 million through donor conduits in 2022 alone, including to universities promoting Koch-aligned economics that downplay structural racism. In 2024, AFP touted policies of controversial figures like North Carolina’s Mark Robinson, despite his scandals, and spent $62 million bolstering Republicans while opposing broader expansions. They also funded outreach to Hispanic voters via Libre, aiming to peel minority support from progressive coalitions. Critics argue this masks a strategy to dilute Black-led racial justice movements, using capitalism’s rhetoric to maintain hierarchies. Why such fixation? Black economic and political gains challenge the Koch worldview, where unregulated markets supposedly reward merit—yet reveal baked-in biases favoring whites.
Corporate and Philanthropic Ecosystem: Anti-DEI Backlash and Other Wealthy Donors
The Kochs represent a broader ecosystem where white millionaires and billionaires fund anti-Black initiatives, often under neutral banners like “meritocracy.” In 2025, this manifests in an aggressive push against DEI programs, with corporate mentions of DEI dropping 72% from 2024 amid legal and political pressures. Companies like Walmart, Lowe’s, IBM, and Meta scaled back commitments, citing “inherent tensions” and following Trump’s lead to terminate federal DEI efforts deemed “radical and wasteful.” These rollbacks, often backed by conservative donors, frame DEI as reverse discrimination, ignoring its origins in addressing historical barriers for Black and brown communities. As one analysis notes, eliminating DEI isn’t just racist—it’s segregationist, aiming to resegregate workplaces and education.
Other donors perpetuate this. Billionaire William Dunn funded Candace Owens’ Blexit with $500,000, promoting narratives blaming Black struggles on culture rather than racism. Hedge funder Joseph Edelman supports Do No Harm, pushing anti-DEI agendas that hinder Black professionals. Even philanthropy shows patterns: While some, like George Soros, invest in Black-led groups, many channel funds to counter-efforts, sustaining think tanks that oppose reparations or equity. This funding isn’t reactive; it’s proactive, ensuring Black success remains tokenized rather than systemic.
Historical Echoes: From Lynchings to Modern Backlash
This dynamic isn’t a modern invention—it’s rooted in history. Successful Black communities have long provoked white violence and sabotage. In 1921, Tulsa’s Black Wall Street was razed by white mobs, destroying thriving businesses out of envy and fear of economic parity. Earlier, the 1898 Wilmington Massacre overthrew a biracial government, lynching Black leaders to reclaim white control. Ida B. Wells documented how lynchings targeted prosperous Black men to enforce economic subordination and secure cheap labor. Post-Reconstruction, Black entrepreneurs amassing wealth rivaling whites faced destruction, widening the racial wealth gap that persists today.
In contemporary terms, Black prosperity still triggers backlash. As Black incomes rose from 1940-1970, closing the gap to 60% of white earnings, resentment fueled policies like redlining and mass incarceration. Today, high-profile Black successes— from athletes to executives— elicit scrutiny, with diversity hires dismissed as “tokens.” Systemic examples abound: Premium grocers divest from Black urban areas, prioritizing white suburbs, perpetuating food deserts. This “economic war” underscores that white wealth views Black advancement as existential, not aspirational.
The Psychological Roots: Fear, Resentment, and Status Threat
Why does wealth fail to quell this obsession? Psychology offers insights. White fear of demographic change—projected minority-majority shifts—provokes a “hunker down” mentality, heightening opposition to policies aiding Black progress. Racial resentment, perceiving Black people as receiving undue advantages, drives support for anti-equity measures. Studies show perceived status threat leads to distress among whites, associating Black advancement with loss of privilege. This manifests in microaggressions, where ambiguous qualifications favor whites over Blacks, or in anxiety that slows time perception when facing Black individuals.
White supremacy conditions many to see diversity as a threat, equating Black inclusion with white exclusion. As Pew surveys reveal, whites and Blacks diverge sharply on views of discrimination, with whites often minimizing barriers to Black success. For elites, this psychology intersects with power: Black excellence exposes meritocracy’s myths, demanding reckoning with unearned advantages.
Toward a Reckoning
In the end, no fortune can buy peace for those haunted by Black resilience. From The Bell Curve’s legacy to 2025’s DEI dismantlings, wealthy whites channel resources into sustaining divides, fearing that Black thriving undermines their narrative of superiority. Yet, this fixation highlights Black strength—our progress persists despite it. The path forward? Expose these hypocrisies, advocate for equity, and build institutions that center Black voices. Until white elites confront their fears, true national comfort remains elusive. For Black communities, the message is empowering: Our success isn’t just survival; it’s a revolution they can’t ignore.