“Money Over Moral Compass: How Stakes Is High for Artistic Integrity”
“De La Soul presciently titled their 1996 album ‘Stakes Is High,’ and that warning resonates even more powerfully today. The stakes were indeed high then, but now, in an era of unprecedented social division and racial tension, they’ve become astronomical. When artists choose to trade their platform for profit, when they willingly stand alongside those who’ve worked to undermine racial progress, they’re not just making a personal choice — they’re actively diminishing the power of art as a force for social change. The stakes are too high for such compromises, too high to pretend that performing for those who traffic in bigotry is ‘just business.’
“The summer of 1989 marked my first real taste of independence. As I boarded a plane at Logan Airport bound for Philadelphia, my pre-teen heart raced with the kind of anticipation that only comes with firsts. I was headed to spend the summer with my uncle, an administrator for First Year Students at the University of Pennsylvania. The Gothic architecture of Penn’s campus became my playground during those quiet summer months, when the usual bustle of college life gave way to a serene calm that invited exploration. It was during one of these explorations, after watching ‘Honey, I Shrunk the Kids’ alone at a nearby theater — another first that felt monumental at the time — that fate led me to a used bookstore. There, amongst dusty shelves and forgotten tomes, I discovered a book about Alain Locke, the philosophical architect of the Harlem Renaissance. With my movie change jingling in my pocket and the naïve curiosity of twelve years, I purchased what would become a touchstone in my intellectual development. Those first seven pages introduced me to a man who understood that art could be more than entertainment — it could be a catalyst for social transformation. Locke, who taught luminaries like Ossie Davis at Howard University, articulated a vision of the ‘New Negro’ that positioned artists as essential voices in America’s racial discourse. Little did I know then how relevant his ideas would remain in our current moment, where artists face choices between commerce and conscience, between easy profit and difficult truth.”
The stakes are particularly high in our social media age, where proximity to power is often mistaken for progress. When artists like DJ Khaled choose to remain silent on crucial social issues while maintaining close relationships with those who enable systemic inequality, they aren’t just missing an opportunity — they’re actively undermining the legacy of artistic activism that Locke helped establish.
“That chance encounter with Alain Locke’s work in a Philadelphia bookstore would prove prophetic. Locke understood that art wasn’t merely entertainment — it was a vehicle for social transformation and racial uplift. He saw Black artists not just as performers, but as architects of cultural change who could reshape America’s understanding of race through their work.
Today’s reality stands in stark contrast to Locke’s vision. When artists like Snoop Dogg, Nelly, and Rick Ross choose to perform at events that normalize or legitimize discriminatory policies and rhetoric, they aren’t just accepting a paycheck — they’re abandoning the transformative power Locke recognized in Black artistry. Their presence serves as tacit approval, a costly form of silence that speaks volumes.
Yet we must also examine our own expectations. While Locke championed artists as agents of change, he never suggested they should bear the entire burden of social progress. The danger lies in absolving ourselves of responsibility by expecting entertainers to be our sole moral compass and political leadership. When we do this, we create a vacuum that allows artists to retreat into pure entertainment, abandoning their potential role in advancing social justice.
This isn’t about demanding that every artist become a full-time activist. Rather, it’s about recognizing that in moments of moral crisis, silence and willing participation become forms of complicity. When artists with massive platforms choose to ignore their power to influence social discourse, they’re not just betraying Locke’s legacy — they’re betraying the very communities that elevated them to their positions of influence.
The real tragedy isn’t just in the missed opportunities for advocacy, but in the normalization of apathy. Each time a prominent artist chooses financial gain or social access over speaking truth to power, they make it easier for others to do the same. This slow erosion of artistic responsibility threatens to undo decades of progress in using art as a tool for social change.”
“What makes the current situation particularly troubling is how it inverts everything Locke envisioned about the role of Black artistry in American society. Locke saw art as a means of transcending stereotypes and challenging racist narratives. Yet when artists like Snoop Dogg, who once spoke truth to power through his music, choose to align themselves with those who have weaponized racial stereotypes for political gain, they’re not just accepting a paycheck — they’re validating the very caricatures Locke fought to dismantle.
The irony is painful: these artists built their careers by authentically representing their communities and speaking to the Black experience in America. Now, they’ve chosen to stand alongside figures who have consistently deployed racist dog whistles and promoted policies harmful to those same communities. This isn’t merely a case of ‘selling out’ — it’s an active participation in the machinery of cultural degradation that Locke warned against.
When Nelly, Ross, and their contemporaries justify these appearances as ‘just business,’ they reveal how far we’ve strayed from Locke’s vision of the artist as a cultural catalyst. For Locke, art wasn’t merely a commodity to be sold to the highest bidder — it was a transformative force capable of reshaping society’s understanding of race and humanity. By reducing their platform to a purely transactional relationship, these artists aren’t just missing an opportunity for meaningful discourse; they’re actively undermining decades of artistic activism.
The decision to prioritize financial gain over moral responsibility becomes even more damaging when we consider the historical context. These artists have inherited a legacy of Black performers who often sacrificed their careers and livelihoods to stand against racism and injustice. By choosing to align with forces that perpetuate harmful stereotypes and policies, they’re not just betraying Locke’s philosophy — they’re dishonoring the sacrifices of those who came before them.
Perhaps most troubling is how this behavior normalizes moral compromise within the artistic community. When established artists demonstrate that proximity to power and financial gain trump ethical considerations, they set a dangerous precedent for the next generation. This creates a cycle where artistic success becomes increasingly divorced from social responsibility, exactly the opposite of what Locke envisioned when he championed the role of the artist in social progress.”
Tony Clark is a Professor of African-American Literature
