On Sunday, Chancellor Martin released a statement to the Washington University community titled “On Racial Equity and Justice.” The statement attempts to acknowledge the pain that students of color have experienced while assuring us that Wash. U. is trying it’s very best to create a supportive environment for “all members of our community.”

The statement, much like the reaction to the Christchurch mosque shooting, is too little, too late. It came nearly a week after the death of George Floyd and after a full weekend of protests. If Martin is wracked with “sadness and grief” as he claims, then what could possibly explain the delay in his response? If we take him at his word and accept that he spent that time reflecting and having conversations with University leaders, then what explains the lack of specifics in his statement?

Besides a cursory mention of Floyd at the very beginning, the statement avoids getting into details of the crisis. The acts of violence Martin musters the courage to tut-tut about are largely ascribed to no perpetrator. The words “privilege” and “white” are nowhere to be found. While there is a brief mention of police violence, Chancellor Martin doesn’t delve into Wash. U.’s role in the maintenance of carceral institutions. There isn’t even a whisper about WUPD’s role in antagonizing students and black community members. While he waxes poetic about racial violence, the institution that he leads remains connected to private prisons that benefit from mass incarceration and the criminalization of Blackness. Also absent from his statement are any specific actions Martin sees the University making in the future. He promises progress, but he only delivers measured tepidity.

This is probably what I should have expected. Chancellor Martin is calculating. He considers the actions of similarly situated institutions judiciously and takes careful steps with that in mind. Wash. U. is never the first to act and often adopts similar measures to institutions it sees as contemporaries. Some would call this cautious—and in the right circumstances, I agree that his strategy is appropriate and produces good policy. But in cases of genuine crises, I see it as indecisive foot-dragging.

Perhaps I am being unfair to Chancellor Martin. We used to get statements like this from former Vice Chancellor Lori White, and I read those somewhat more sympathetically. Dr. White is a Black woman who has spent her entire professional career navigating white institutions. If she told me she acknowledged our pain, I would believe her. I don’t give Martin that same benefit of the doubt. He hasn’t earned it.

The first time I ever saw Chancellor Martin was at the Martin Luther King Day commemoration in January of 2019. At that event, he took time to praise “the restraint” shown by University administration 50 years prior towards protestors. While historical context may show that the Wash. U. administration was slightly more progressive than their contemporaries, in 2019, it rang as tone-deaf to view not sicking the dogs and turning the hoses on Black students as laudatory. Since then, I have read Martin’s statements critically. He has not shown me that he is an ally to Black students, thus he should not expect to be received as one.

I have no doubt that Chancellor Martin meant well. But his statement felt more like a slap in the face than a pat on the back. It has made me rethink the necessity of statements like it from University administration. Was there anything Martin could have said that would have accomplished his goal? Did I need to see administration go through the motions of care—extending a hand only out of obligation, comfort only skin deep—or would I have preferred them cutting the bull**** and let me stay angry at their absence? Is inauthentic hand-wringing better than nothing?

For my money, the answer is no. If the University is going to announce a major action, then I would love to hear from them. But if this is the best they can do, they should save their breath. Before Andrew Martin released his statement, I had no interest in hearing from him. After he released it, I wished he hadn’t.