In The Field: Resolving the Kaepernick-Carter Contradiction

Shawn Carter, better known as Jay-Z, is a load-bearing figure for the Black excellence assimilationist imaginary, and Kaepernick's protest was a major moment and saga for Black politics of this century. They've been at odds for years, and that conflict seems to be coming to a head.

In other words, a crucial contradiction has been exposed (which was inevitable), and the way we (collectively) interpret and act upon this rupture will define this political moment and the story of us. For that reason, I am writing now. 

At the scene of this collision are two contradicting, yet popular figures within U.S. Black politics, and while this battle may center around two public figures/celebrities, it—like most battles between avatars—represents more than what's on the surface. 

I talked to a homie not too long ago (one who, unlike me, is old enough to have seen Jay-Z's entire career) about why the rapper has such a hold on people despite all that is publicly known about the moral and political compromises he's made to amass and maintain his wealth and prominence. They said, "You gotta understand…Jay-Z did what we were all trying to do". They went on to talk about being in an environment marred by the government-implicated crack cocaine epidemic that ravaged Black communities across the country. During the crack era, opportunities for Black folks involved underground economies sought as a way to turn illegitimate means of survival into legitimate business. 

To be clear, not everybody impacted by the crack epidemic was selling crack, and that's not what was being implied by "what we were all trying to do." Rather, my friend was referring to the act of breaking into a formal economy that Black people have been locked out of—taking limited choices and making more for yourself. Even I can recognize that, sometimes, historical perspective is a privilege. 

As one of the world's few Black billionaires, Mr. Carter is one of the primary symbols of Black success and upward mobility in America. This would not be possible without his hip-hop career, marked in part by his talent, and regarded in the hip-hop community as arguably the greatest of all time. As a rapper, streetwear designer, and record-label founder, Jay-Z embodied a number of urban Black caricature tropes, adopting personas associated with illegitimate and street business tropes that are seminal parts of the American imaginary: the pimp, the mob boss, the business empire executive, and the American Gangster. In other terms, these roles are the trafficker, the syndicate, and the imperial capitalist. What a perfect sampling of America's foundational pillars. To quote Hanif Abdurraqib, "Jay-Z didn't invent Black Excellence, but he is one architect of it, and he has certainly helped to proliferate it."

Colin Kaepernick, on the other hand, is important to Black people for other reasons. As the Black Lives Matter movement grew, Kaepernick became one of the most famous Black figures to use his position as an NFL superstar to protest in solidarity with us. While he wasn't the only one, the consequences Kaepernick faced as a result—being blackballed and discarded by the league—made him stand out. His legacy, though, has been forged by what he's done since. His history of continued activism, writing, and financial support for resistance movements is held in stark contrast to what the vast majority of Black public figures who quieted their support, reduced their solidarity to performative aesthetic choices, and/or engaged in blatant co-optation of the movement, especially when its repression intensified. Today, even the politicians who increased their credibility (and voter base) are abandoning their "radicalism" in fascist times, denouncing the militancy they co-opted to secure their positions.

This year, Kaepernick paid for independent autopsies for Nolan Wells and Demartravion "Trey" Reed, and for the 10th anniversary of his kneeling protest, renewed his $1 million pledge to community organizations. Though philanthropy is rightfully critiqued as a convenient tax avoidance strategy for the wealthy, Kaepernick's contributions to Black community and resistance projects far outpace his (even more wealthy) elite peers. Last September, Jay-Z and Beyoncé sparked controversy by reportedly sharing a table at a charity event with Jared Kushner and Ivanka Trump. This year, the mogul was mentioned as an accomplice to subduing the Black population in the Epstein Files. 

I'm not writing this to place Kaepernick on some pedestal. I don't believe it is wise for Black folks to simply replace one fallen idol with another wealthy avatar. But it is important to lay out the different roles these two figures play in order to understand their (and our) conflict. 

Why would two people who claim to care about Black people be beefing? I'm glad you asked. 

Jay-Z vs. Kaepernick is no dispute between people who have similarly dedicated themselves to Black Liberation. This isn't W.E.B. Dubois and Booker T. Washington. The nature of this tension is nothing like that between Martin Luther King Jr. and the burgeoning Black Power sentiments of SNCC at the time, or the later tensions among various elements of the Black Panther Party. No, this dispute is much simpler than that—a conflict inherent to capitalism, essential for controlling the masses. 

What's happened here is that Colin Kaepernick, along with large segments of the Black community who committed to protesting, boycotting, and demanding diversity, equity, and inclusion-aligned changes in media and workplaces, disrupted the multi-billion-dollar business that is the NFL. This move toward political insurgency presented the need for the NFL, one that has existed in America since before America, to quell Black resistance and keep the dollars flowing. Jay-Z, the opportunist that he is, offered himself to fulfill that need via brokering the partnership between Roc Nation and the NFL that gave him and his entertainment company the power to curate the Apple Music Super Bowl halftime show. The halftime deal served as the apex of the NFL's "Inspire Change" initiative, a social justice strategy anchored by a 10-year pledge to increase the league's investment in Black and other marginalized communities. Jay-Z's and other celebrities' collaborations with NFL leadership (some of the same figures presently repressing Macklemore's "Free Palestine" message), especially at the height of Black Lives Matter, worked to satiate Black folks opting for resistance over compromise. And it worked, to an extent. I know Black folks that still don't watch the NFL to this day (shoutout to the real ones), but I know many more that can't help but tune in every Sunday. 

But, by and large, with the "END RACISM" endzone paint and spectacles of Black and Latinx artistry centered at the Super Bowl—the protest, solidarity, and resistance became marginalized, and that was by design. The 2019 partnership elevated Jay-Z's image and increased his business' wealth. Jay-Z's NFL partnership was announced in August 2019, and by December of the same year, he'd become hip hop's first billionaire. In the press conference announcing the Super Bowl partnership, Jay-Z infamously said,  "I think we've moved past kneeling. I think it's time for actionable items… This is the next phase." The hip-hop mogul's advancement was directly related to the demise of Colin's professional career—and the resistance his kneeling represented. 

Jay-Z's utility to white power structures didn't sit well with much of the Black social justice community that, not six months later, would have a literal and figurative megaphone on the world stage. The 2020 Uprisings in response to the murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd pushed  Black liberation back to the forefront of the mass psyche, and laid bare the loyalties and contradictions in the movement and between the two stars. 

In February 2020, Jay-Z spoke on his NFL deal ahead of the Super Bowl (and the Jennifer Lopez and Shakira halftime show)  to the propaganda rag, The New York Times: "No one is saying he [Kaepernick] hasn't been done wrong. He was done wrong… but it was three years ago, and someone needs to say, 'What do we do now—because people are still dying?'" Later that year,  Kaepernick started a COVID relief fund for Black and brown communities and then raised $1.75 million for the Know Your Rights Camp covering legal fees for Minneapolis protestors, his actions contrasting Jay-Z's comments, less-than-systemic legalistic interventions and business moves. Jay-Z, among other reformists, aims to edit the system in ways that avoid any threat to capitalism, and Kaepernick, among abolitionists, aims to end it.

This dynamic would only continue—their stories bound together by Jay-Z's decision to join himself with Colin's literal enemy conspirators. 

As Black masses called for an end to the antiBlack racial order implicating both policing and capitalism for bringing untold violence to our communities, Jay-Z became increasingly defensive of his status as a billionaire. In 2021, as Kaepernick quickly worked with organizers to publish Abolition for the People: The Movement for a Future without Policing & Prisons. Meanwhile, Jay-Z spoke about avoiding social justice-oriented critics on social media, lamented "cancel culture," and did an ad campaign with Beyoncé for blood diamond-slinging Tiffany & Co. That year, on Drake's "Love All," he sullenly called himself a "public enemy" and complained about people wanting things (likely money) from him: "Everybody want something, you know the price of everything but the value of nothing." 

The contrast between their respective concerns has been clear to those paying attention. These are not diverging interests. This is evidence of interests that were never aligned. I won't risk boring you with the remaining details of the following five years, but it is more of the same. The former NFL star deepened his social justice work while Jay-Z became increasingly embittered and entrenched with white supremacist power brokers. Every once in a while, Jay-Z will make it evident he is in fact hearing his critics, especially those critical of capitalism, and he is bothered by them. 

One such moment occurred not long ago, during Jay-Z's The Blueprint anniversary rollout. Here's a  timeline of events: 

• Jay-Z does an exclusive GQ interview and is asked about criticisms of his business practices and being a capitalist 

• "I didn't get here by taking advantage of people or taking advantage of the loopholes in the system, or some wrinkle in a capitalist structure. That structure exists; I just see the world for what it is, not for what I want it to be. I'm a realist. It's not idealistic. People speak about the world how they want to see it. You're never going to win like that."

• Jay-Z announces an exclusive Target partnership to distribute a special 30th anniversary double vinyl of his debut album Reasonable Doubt in the middle of much of the Black community's Target boycott 

• In July 2026, Jay-Z, defensively, did a freestyle during his Reasonable Doubt anniversary performance at Yankee Stadium, calling critics hypocrites and derisively mentioning Colin Kaepernick accepting a settlement with the NFL. Kaepernick responded by saying it's clear he "lives rent free" in the rapper's head.  

When it comes to standing by Black communities, Colin Kaepernick has been 'living his raps' in a way Jay-Z simply has not – managing to avoid partnerships with those that wish us harm. So, when he mentions Kaepernick in a less than respectful way, there was an immediate uproar. 

• In August 2026, former TMZ producer Van Lathan (in an interview with the Higher Learning podcast) rebuked Jay-Z's comments about the Target boycott. A year ago, he revealed that he knows Jay-Z's Roc Nation was involved in a smear campaign against Kaepernick–this resurfaced after Carter's comments. 

• In September 2026, Robert Kraft and other NFL owners are exposed for colluding to ban Macklemore from performing in their venues over his "Free Palestine" statements— resurfacing perspectives about Kaepernick's ousting.

• On September 15, 2026, Colin Kaepernick releases his memoir The Perilous Fight on the 10th anniversary of his 2016 kneeling protest, speaking at length for the first time about the details of his blackballing by the NFL and its aligned partners, and exposes Roc Nation and Jay-Z's role in his censoring. 

For many reasons, Black folks in America are wrestling with our political trajectory. The alignment between the DNC and the GOP on issues like genocide, the war on Iran, and the technofascist AI turn—along with the Democrats and left coalition's minimal response to the growing affordability crisis and assault on voting and other civil rights—has created a wedge between Black folks and the political front that's supposed to defend them. 

Democratic Socialists and "establishment" Dems are fighting for narrative control ahead of midterms. AIPAC favorite Hakeem Jeffries recently met with Jared Kushner. Following summer storms, majority-Black cities Gary, Indiana, and Memphis were without power for prolonged periods (while nearby data centers stayed lit), and no prominent figures from either party did much of anything. The food system's lack of regulatory oversight has caused increasing recalls and massive foodborne illness outbreaks that the Dems, while willing to blame Trump, have expressed no plan to curtail if in power. Imperialist wars that have executed innumerable people across the world have driven up food and fuel costs here due to war-related destruction and rightful supply chain resistance. Black people are desperate for a political program that could bring some real relief and change to their material conditions. For some, that desperation has led to a cynical "pragmatism" pulling some further right. For others, this moment is radicalizing them, sparking a curiosity about what else is possible. 

And I believe this curiosity is what belies people's investment in this proxy war between Kaepernick and Carter. Carter represents an "excellence" coded assimilationist Black capitalist strategy centering upward mobility as essential for survival. Even though people can acknowledge some of the things he's done aren't the best for the Black community, they charge it to the game because ultimately he succeeded. And although Kaepernick still maintains he would play in the NFL if he could, he doesn't attempt to valorize that potential participation in the system. He consistently and unequivocally implicates the State in the suffering of Black people, and his political work supports the possibility of the abolition of the political project that is the U.S.—at least the U.S. as we know it. In this context, Kaepernick represents noncompliance to many. 

Whether they know it or not, people's affinity for Kaepernick isn't just because of his desirability, but because he represents a resistance that most of us aren't willing to part ways with. If Jay-Z's "past kneeling" is toward placation and capitalist enterprise, Kaep's "past kneeling" is (at least rhetorically) toward deeper resistance and abolition. 

Celebrities and celebrity culture certainly won't save us and, as I said earlier, I believe it would be ill-advised for Black people to place too much stock in any singular figure. After all, it would require a mass uprising to make shit shake and bring imperial capitalism to a full stop. Our preoccupation with the cult of celebrity renders us and our political movements stagnant, impotent. Whether or not celebrity disputes are intentionally manufactured to distract us from what is to be done, the way we collectively understand and respond to this current cold war between Jay-Z and Colin Kaepernick offers a glimpse of where we want, and are willing, to go. 

I'm not talking about choosing a side between two rich Black people—I'm talking about whether we choose fealty to the billionaire class and their Black sycophants or solidarity among ourselves. Do we spend money with people who sell us out, or do we use it to bolster our radicalism? Do we want a few megawealthy Black capitalist avatars or do we want the masses of Black people to be fed and housed? This isn't merely rhetorical; the Kaepernick-Carter dialectic is evidence that the consolidation of wealth among Black billionaires is always already linked to our suffering and subjugation.

We can make these choices. Every day we will make these choices. The Kaepernick-Carter conflict represents a contradiction that has long been simmering in Black communities. Black people were brought here as enslaved Africans, as capital that was necessary for the accumulation of wealth in this country. Since then, the fear of Black/African rebellion has shaped much of the political economy on this land. After emancipation, the fall of Reconstruction and defeat of Black power and enfranchisement ignited 100 years of segregation enforced by white legal and mob terror. In response to Black Power resistance, Nixon's Black Capitalism, and Reagan's neoliberal individualism and free market ideology quelled further rebellion. At the same time, the 1970 Kerner Commission Report revealed that it was antiBlack racism that caused unrest and police violence that sparked revolt. Inviting a few Black people to enjoy capitalist comforts was part of an approach to soften tensions. Jay-Z's role in quelling rebellion is rooted in this period of fascist reform to protect capital in crisis. 

The contradiction is that American capitalism requires the captivity of the Black masses, but enough of us must believe ascension is possible, or else we would revolt. Systematically, American institutions carefully titrate Black people's access to power, meticulously granting and rescinding access in order to both prevent uprising and prevent freedom writ large. The economy needs our labor—this includes our cultural work—and the products of it, so we can't all have our needs met lest we begin to withhold ourselves from extractive labor conditions. But us not having our needs met while also being subjected to violence to maintain this racial order means we're more likely to revolt. Clearly, this is a conundrum. 

Celebrities as popular symbols of capitalist success effectively convince us we don't need rebellion by exploiting our fandom to convince us that they have our best interests at heart—that their existence is evidence of our freedom. They work to convince us that reform is enough and that progress primarily comes via the accumulation and whims of a benevolent few, not the resistance of the masses. The world is on fire, the police precinct is on fire, but it works. Too slowly, reality is upending this celebrity-mediated fantasy. Because of Jay-Z's essential role in maintaining the mythology of Black capitalism, if we can see him for what he is, maybe we can also take a critical view of Black capitalism as a whole. If this contempt for Black progressivism and radicalism is what is required of the "success" stories of Black capitalism, what is truly in it for the rest of us? 

In a moment of American capitalism's turbulence and a possible reckoning on the world stage, Black people have a unique position to assess and forge a political direction. Is it capitalism or rebellion? It likely won't be both.