Racism Shaping Consumption Spaces: Shopping in Sweden

Abstract

Consumption spaces are culturally allegedly equally accessible to all, based on a person’s ability to spend money. Critical race studies in a North American context have shown, however, that consumption spaces are highly racialized. Racism in consumption spaces in northern Europe is an under-researched area. This article is based on interviews with individuals racialized as non-White about experiences of everyday racism in consumption places in Sweden. It aims to fill this research gap and answer the questions of how people respond to experiences of racism in consumption spaces, and how we can understand the spatial aspects of racism that are acted out and reproduced in spaces of consumption. As consumption is a central part of urban life, this understanding helps to further reveal the depth of social inequalities that in turn reinforce patterns of urban segregation and social spatial division. Theoretically, the spatialization of everyday racism and the notion of color-blindness that is prevalent in Sweden underlines how these experiences shape urban practices such as spatial exclusion and self-constraint.

Introduction

Consumption is an everyday urban practice that fundamentally shapes individual and collective identities as it is acted out on a social stage. Since early modernity, consumption spaces have fostered urban cultures that associate shopping with pleasure and leisure, and in post-industrial times, cities are no longer seen as spaces for production, but rather landscapes of consumption (Zukin, 1998). While consumption spaces have made cities more diverse, not least from a gendered perspective (Wilson, 1992), they are also sites of everyday experiences of discrimination and the shaping of a racialized urban landscape. Different forms of racial profiling have been identified in consumption spaces through the concept of “shopping while black” (Gabbidon, 2003; Lee, 2000; Pittman, 2020; Schreer et al., 2009). Racist encounters involve Black customers being ignored and treated rudely (Lee, 2000); being subjected to oversurveillance or “shadowing” (Crockett et al., 2003; Lee, 2000), and having to wait longer for service than White customers, and violations against Black customers are justified as a necessary precaution against shoplifting (Williams et al., 2001). Consequently, this has led to “race related stress” (Crockett et al., 2003) and “racial alienation,” created through inconsistency “between national cultural claims that equate social equality with a person’s ability to spend money without restriction and Black consumers’ encounters with discriminatory treatment” (Pittman, 2020, p. 19). The volume of research that reveals misconduct has led the research network Race in the Marketplace (RIM) to argue for an analysis that acknowledges that

consumption occurs within a global racialized market system that affects everyday routines of practice, meaning-making, and social relations. Its racialized features (e.g., ideologies, norms, and practices), which are embedded in societal structures, institutions, and related policies across time and space, have direct implications for consumption that too often go undertheorized. (Grier et al., 2024; see also Grier et al., 2019)

Bennett et al. (2015) have shown that minority groups experience similar levels of perceived discrimination in relation to consumption, while majority citizens tend to assume that discriminatory instances are on the decline.

Racism and discrimination in European and Nordic consumption spaces are significantly less researched than their counterparts in the United States. A great deal of European research focuses on ethnic consumption and ethnic businesses, while research on racist and discriminatory practices and experiences of consumption is largely absent, albeit it with some exceptions (see, for example, Alkayyali, 2019). However, the EU FRA report Being Black in the EU (European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights [EU FRA], 2023, pp. 24–25) notes that 24% (in a 5-year prevalence) have experienced racism in public spaces, when using public transport, or when entering bars, shops or restaurants. A study conducted by the French beauty retailer Sephora revealed that to avoid incidents of being accused of shoplifting and to lessen the chance of being racially profiled, minority shoppers avoid touching items, appear extra friendly, and dress nicely (“Racial profiling leads minorities to shop. . .,” 2021). In Sweden, a few reports on discrimination (Kalonaityté et al., 2007; Kumlin, 2014) address spaces of consumption, and some research touches upon on the topic in relation to uses of public spaces (Listerborn, 2015; P. Mulinari et al., 2024; Sixtensson, 2018). Experiences from the U.S. and the Swedish research reveal that racism is a common experience when shopping, and they reveal situations where racialized individuals are either hyper-visible (through control and denial of entry) or invisible (being ignored). Experiences of discrimination are often perceived as individual problems, as the market is presumed to be free from racial discrimination (Johnson et al., 2019).

In addition to the empirical goal to fill this geographical research gap, this article aims to bring in a spatial perspective on racism in marketplaces, drawing on the “spatiality of social exclusion” (Madanipour, 1998) and global critical race studies (Christian, 2019; Poole et al., 2021). Spatializing experiences of racism and discrimination renders visible both the manifestation and the reproduction of socially exclusive practices in the everyday urban context. Understanding space as socially produced integrates power relations with spatial relations. Social spaces are also symbolic spaces (Bourdieu, 1991), and certain spaces become associated with different lifestyles or social groups. In relation to spatial exclusion, this means that some bodies in consumption spaces are racialized in line with prejudices about certain parts of the urban landscape, where people associated with certain neighborhoods are perceived as potentially criminal subjects. Customers are racialized in consumption spaces as they are perceived as out-of-place or a threat to white spaces. This article aims to highlight how such exclusionary spatial practices occur and how norms of whiteness are spatially produced when racialized individuals are controlled (or ignored) as customers, and how the effects of these relations are echoed on the urban scale at large. Segregating practices are usually applied to housing- or labor markets, while consumption spaces are ignored. Consumption is a vital part of everyday life, however, and these spaces need to be included in the understanding of how cities reproduce racist relations.

Purpose and Aim

The aim of this article is to present consumers’ experiences of everyday racism(s) while consuming in a Swedish context. As mentioned above, discriminatory and racist behaviors may be subtle and framed in terms of general surveillance in consumption spaces. Therefore, a qualitative approach with in-depth interviews is necessary to capture the complexity of everyday racism. This article draws from interviews with 12 people with mixed migrant backgrounds who live or shop in Swedish cities, and it aims to answer the research questions of how people respond to experiences of racism in consumption spaces, and how we can understand the spatial consequences of the racism that is being acted out in spaces of consumption. Consumption places are semi-public spaces, open to everyone who can consume, and it might be assumed that the rule of consumption is that transactions are “equal,” as the purpose of any business is to make profit (Miller & Stovall, 2019). However, it is clear from previous research, predominantly from the United States (Crockett et al., 2003; Gabbidon, 2003; Lee, 2000; Pittman, 2020; Schreer et al., 2009), that this is not the case. What, then, are the limits to consumption in semi-public spaces such as food stores, retail locations, cafés and restaurants in Sweden, and how is racism reproduced within these settings? How are consumption spaces shaping spatiality of social exclusion?

Empirically, the article illustrates situations and responses to everyday racism in consumption spaces and how everyday shopping habits are affected by these experiences. Understanding these experiences from the perspective of individuals’ racialized as non-White may reveal the depth of social inequalities that in turn reinforce patterns of urban segregation and social division. The research adds to previous knowledge on consumption and racism by broadening the geographical scope of research. Within a Swedish context, this research sheds new light on how consumption is a part of reproducing everyday racism, and how it shapes the racialized geography of Swedish cities explored previously by scholars in relation to, for example, urban stigmatization (Backvall, 2019; Molina, 1997), hegemonic whiteness (Hübinette & Lundström, 2014), and racial profiling (Schclarek Mulinari, 2017).

Seeking to take consumer research and racism further, Grier et al. (2024) suggest focusing on the following dimensions: (1) racial structuring of consumption and consumer markets; (2) consumer navigation of racialized markets; and (3) consumer resistance and advocacy movements. These dimensions are related but shed light on different aspects of consumption. The first concentrates on a macro-level on how markets have historically constructed the consumer and the market as White, which is evident in advertising, finance, and gentrification processes. The second, navigation of racialized markets, investigates on a meso-micro level how consumers navigate and cope with a racialized market. Third, on a meso-level, these studies investigate consumer movements, protests, boycotts, and self-organization. This study is primarily focused on the second dimension of coping strategies and adds to this level by digging further into the micro-level to understand the particularities of coping strategies. On an analytical level, it also touches upon the first macro-, structural, level when pointing at how these practices relate to the spatiality of social exclusion on an urban scale, beyond gentrification. Theoretically, the spatialization of everyday racism underlines how these experiences shape urban practices such as spatial exclusion and self-constraining. This research is broadly situated at the intersection of urban studies, sociology, and critical race studies.

Methodological Approach

Interviews were conducted by two of the authors in 2022–2023. A total of 12 people were interviewed in nine interview sessions. The interviewees ranged from 17 years to middle aged; three were men and nine were women, and they lived in different mid-sized Swedish cities, with the majority residing in Malmö. Experiences from different Swedish cities were included in the interviews. The study is based on interviews and oral stories to capture the everyday racism which is more difficult to identify in observations or participatory approaches.

The informants represent a diverse group of people with different ethnicities, religious affiliations, and backgrounds from Asia, Latin America, Africa, and Europe. Some were born in Sweden, and some had migrated but lived most of their lives in Sweden. Informants were recruited via different channels, for example, invitations on Facebook, but also via informal channels like friends and colleagues. We also hung posters in various strategically selected places such as the university. We could not identify any specific interest group or organization to contact, and the recruitment process was somewhat slow as we had to find individual informants. We noted that racism in Sweden is a sensitive issue to talk about. In an academic context, ethnicity and diversity are more commonly used than race in Sweden, with a few exceptions (Hübinette & Lundström, 2014; Sayaka & Suyemoto, 2022), which can also be seen as an expression of ambivalence surrounding the concept.

The broad selection of informants was intentional and aimed at capturing commonalities in how racialized people are approached, without focus on the individual’s specific “ethnicity” or religion. To avoid categorizations of different minority groups, we treat the interview material as an entirety, and the focus is on experiences of racism in encounters with staff, guards, and other customers. In this way, the commonalities in the interaction or non-interaction are analyzed, and not the background of the interviewees. In relation to the quotes, we note the informants’ individual backgrounds to illustrate the diversity of experiences. If the interviewees bring up their ethnicity, religion, or skin color themselves, as an experienced reason for the way they are being encountered, we bring it into the analysis.

Interviews were primarily conducted in Swedish (one in English), and quotes have been translated by the authors. Each semi-structured interview lasted for about an hour. The research project has been ethically approved, and consent was obtained prior to the interviews in accordance with GDPR and ethical regulations. The research follows the rules of conduct set forth by the Swedish Science Council on information, consent, confidentiality, and usage requirements. The informants are kept anonymous.

The interviews were transcribed and thematically coded. Main themes were identified and discussed among the authors to detect the main tendencies in the material from the perspective of color-blindness and the role of the gaze. As authors, our experiences of migration and racialization differ, while we all share experiences of conducting research on issues of racism and share experiences of anti-racist engagement as knowledge production.

Analytically, there is a distinction between racial discrimination and racism: discrimination concerns the unequal treatment of different minority groups, and racism is the underlying ideology (Quillian, 2006). This article uses discrimination to refer to unequal treatment, and ethnicity is used when the interviewees or authors being referenced mention it; otherwise, the concept of racism and racialized are used as contextualized in a Swedish setting. The constructivist race theory does not understand race as biological or a trait held by the individual, but rather as in the eye of the beholder (Desmond & Emirbayer, 2009).

Context and Theoretical Framing

This article draws on global critical race theory with special attention to the occurrence of color-blindness in a Swedish context. Following the work on structural race perspective by Bonilla-Silva (1997), Christian argues for the need to develop critical race theory beyond the context of the US, as this “places the world-system of global white supremacy at the base of racist structure and racist ideology” (Christian, 2019, p. 178). Whiteness is malleable and exists in all national social systems. Locally and historically grown racialized social systems are linked to global structures of White supremacy. In Sweden, the imagined “color-blindness”—the belief that race does not matter in society—is pervasive and often hides racist practices (Hübinette et al., 2012). The concept of race has been erased from Swedish legislation in favor of the concept of ethnicity, which often refers to cultural, historical, religious, and/or national affiliation and frequently conceals structural racist patterns (Desmond & Emirbayer, 2009). However, research has proven that race indeed still matters in the Swedish context (Osanami Törngren & Nyström, 2022). Moreover, Swedishness is strongly associated with being White (blond, blue-eyed; Hübinette et al., 2012).

Hübinette and Lundström (2014) draw a contradictory picture of the relationship between White and non-White in Sweden. On one hand, Sweden has comprehensive anti-discrimination legislation, and rankings categorize the population as anti-racist and as holding a positive attitude to diversity and migration. On the other hand, in a western context, Sweden is one of the most statistically segregated and segmented societies along racial lines, particularly in relation to residential and labor markets. Most Swedes (80%) rarely or never socialize with people of non-European origin outside of their working life (Hübinette & Lundström, 2014, p. 424). In 2010, the racist political party Sweden Democrats (SD) entered the Swedish Parliament, and it is the third-largest party in Sweden today. Hübinette and Lundström historicize the Swedish White hegemony and the development of racial grammar into three major stages of nation-building: “white purity” (1905–1968); “white solidarity” (1968–2001, when Sweden also had a generous migration policy); and “white melancholy” (from 2001 onwards), which explains the ambiguous image of both being a highly segregated and racist country and retaining the self-perception of a good person with a high sense of moral equality, longing for what Sweden used to be. For migrants, this change could be described as a new Swedish ethnic regime “from subordinated inclusion to subordinated exclusion” (D. Mulinari & Neergaard, 2010, p. 135). These patterns are clearly influenced by neoliberal shifts, welfare cutbacks, privatization of the school system, and many other aspects of the political shift that Sweden went through in the early “90s. Class and race/ethnicity clearly intersect in this shift (D. Mulinari & Neergaard, 2010; Schierup et al., 2020). The Swedish crime statistics on hate crime show that men are generally overrepresented, in particular in relation to physical assaults, while women are overrepresented in the category of molestation (Swedish Crime Statistics [BRÅ], 2022). We saw no clear gender difference in interviewees” experiences in our material. The majority of respondents interviewed were women, which might reflect a pattern of gendered consumption patterns. Some informants, both men and women, experienced racist remarks in the presence of their children, which is an important point highlighted by our research.

Class and racialized structures are particularly visible when it comes to the urban scale and housing. Residential racial segregation is highly integrated with geographies and forms of tenure in Sweden’s major cities (Boverket, 2023). Backvall (2019) studied the construction of race and poverty in relation to stigmatized neighborhoods, commonly high-rise buildings in the urban peripheries (called Million Programme areas). These areas are often depicted as foreign—not as a part of Sweden—and unintegrated places, and the residents, usually categorized as the “immigrants,” are represented as culturally different from “Swedes.” Furthermore, as Sixtensson and Hagström (2024) show, young people’s spatial mobility becomes restricted by racialized structures of where it is safe to go or not, leading to “socio-spatial reluctance” and “socio-spatial withdrawal” as a result of how they are met—with looks and comments—in places perceived as White. In its more explicit form, this also relates to institutionalized racial profiling by the police, customs officials, and other authorities.

In addition to the macro-scale of inequalities, socially exclusionary processes are spatial (Murie & Musterd, 2004; Williams & Hubbard, 2001). Alongside social exclusion, Madanipour (1998) places economic, political and cultural exclusions to which people might be subjected in various degrees, and social exclusion is not necessarily equivalent to economic exclusion such as poverty. According to Madanipour, however, social exclusion needs to be understood in relation to the economic, political and cultural exclusionary context. In particular, social exclusion concerns operating mechanisms of controlling access to places, to activities, to resources, and to information. Social exclusion is part of any society and is both institutionally organized and individually improvised, and it is not always problematic. However, inclusionary practices are important to maintain the social fabric. Madanipour states that “What is a negative state of affairs, therefore, is not exclusion in all forms but an absence of inclusionary processes, a lack of balance between exclusion and inclusion” (Madanipour, 1998, p. 189). The spatiality of social exclusion concerns the restrictions on social options, and there is a direct link between our general sense of well-being and choices of spatial practices. One important barrier to people’s spatial behavior is social control in its different forms: formalized rules, regulations, informal codes and signs, and fears (Madanipour, 1998). These barriers are intertwined with symbolic spaces in the way they are constructed, and the social control needs to be understood in relation to racial power relations.

Critical race studies illuminate how racism affects health and well-being, hinders opportunities and growth, and influences exchange across markets (Poole et al., 2021). Racism is pervasive throughout society and part of everyday—ordinary—experiences, and race is a social construct that invokes, distributes, and restricts hierarchical power and privilege among racialized bodies (Essed, 1991). So-called “no-go zones” are a clear demarcation of urban spaces defined by class, gender, and race, while consumption spaces are assumed to be the opposite—however, not for everyone. This article contributes to critical race studies by including spaces of consumption in Sweden, and it brings together structural analysis of urban segregation with everyday life practices through the application of color-blindness and the role of the gaze. As such, it adds to existing literature on racism in consumption spaces, which has been predominantly conducted in the context of the United States (Crockett et al., 2003; Gabbidon, 2003; Lee, 2000; Pittman, 2020; Schreer et al., 2009).

With the increased privatization of public spaces, the distinction between private and public space has become less evident in urban settings (Smith & Low, 2013). Shopping malls and central streets in cities are being privatized and are under heavy surveillance, and new forms of crime prevention (like visitation zones1) add to the controlling of public spaces which particularly targets racialized citizens (Schclarek Mulinari, 2025). In addition to the privatization of public space, the lens of racialized consumption spaces furthers our understanding of processes of spatialized social exclusion. In the following two empirical parts, the focus is first on how people are encountered when entering consumption spaces, and second, on how these experiences are handled and which strategies individuals are developing. They are presented as the informants themselves described, as we do not want to categorize the informants and ascribe them with identities.

In the Shop

All twelve informants had experienced unpleasant treatment in consumption spaces, including a varied repertoire of behavior by staff in shops and guards, as well as other customers, that includes being ignored, being met with rude behavior, being monitored, being asked questions or being followed around in the shop. Interviewees reported that they had been asked to show the content of their bags; this woman recounted that she was asked to so when in the shop with her child:

Just when I was about to leave the shop: “excuse me, did you forget to pay for something?” and I was like, “no, I didn’t buy anything,” “can I check your bag?” and that was it . . . I hadn’t even touched or used my bag, and I had my child with me and then I got extra annoyed because the kid’s staring at me like “crazy mum.” (Adult woman, Roma)

More difficult to identify as harassment, but nonetheless common, is the issue of the “racialized White gaze”—how one is being looked upon. Fanon (2008) describes the White gaze as the White middle-class perspective of the world, through which the White communities have been able to oppress minorities.

She continues, drawing a parallel between the gaze and the wind:

You don’t see the wind, but you can feel it. That’s how it feels sometimes, like you feel that they’re looking at you, but you know . . . you don’t see them, but you feel them. Like the wind is blowing on you. (Adult woman, Roma)

This young woman describes the typical non-welcoming gaze as looking into your soul:

The thing is that it’s not a bitchy stare, they’re looking into your soul/. . ./They’re really inspecting you.

Interviewer (I):

And what does that stare mean?

Respondent (R):

Like, they’re belittling me. /. . ./ They’re thinking “well, she’s black, and she’s wearing a veil, so she is unintelligent.”

I:

Aha, unintelligent?

R:

Mm, I’ve heard that many times.

I:

Do they say it often, or is it more the gaze that tells you that?

R:

Well, sometimes they have said it. Or, “wow, you speak good Swedish.” And it is. . .I was born and raised in Sweden, so there’s nothing strange about that.

(Young Muslim woman with a background in East Africa)

This fundamental judgment and racial hierarchical positioning put distance between the shop attendant and the customer through a non-welcoming and exclusionary gaze, as well as the non-acceptance of a Swedish person being Black and wearing a veil. If someone is singled out as suspicious or as needing to be monitored, this may also be signaled among the staff, as a code:

Yes, but the thing that has been most obvious is for one that they look at each other and then somebody starts following you. And they then ask a few too many times if you need help. So, you immediately feel that they’re looking at you, that it is not just “oh, here’s a customer,” but instead it’s more like this is someone you should keep an eye on’ or “what is this person doing here?” (Queer non-White adult)

The White gaze also comes from other customers:

But it is not always the people working in the shop, sometimes when you are in a shop there is an old person looking at you. Like that. But then you never know; are you looking at me for some other reason or because you think I am going to steal something. So, you don’t know. Well, I don’t know, maybe. But I do notice a difference in if they just look at you or if they’re really thinking that. Then the looks usually last longer.

I:

So, it depends on how long they look at you? So, you can still see how . . .?

R:

Yes, but normally, sometimes you look up and then keep doing what you’re doing, but it is, like, more abnormal that people are staring at you for like, three seconds. (Young woman, Asian background)

The White gaze sets spatial hierarchies, aiming to pinpoint people who oversee space, and it does so in subtle, but still violent, ways. The insecurity and the difficulties in interpreting the gaze are embedded in a feeling that it might be racist. The exclusionary practices of consumption spaces indicate to customers racialized as non-White that this is not a public space, but rather a specific space in which they are not welcome. The informants’ experiences of the pejorative behavior of staff, guards, and co-customers contradict the logic of capitalism, where consumption ought to be color blind. At the same time, it seems to fit into the neoliberal, racialized, contemporary political landscape, where race is associated with lower class. Several interviewees mentioned class, or looking wealthy, as a factor that increases the likelihood of better treatment. If a person appears, from their clothes and racialization, to come from the “hood” [orten2 in Swedish], it is likely that the person will be regarded as untrustworthy by definition and be associated with a symbolic space. This indicates the importance of an intersectional approach for understanding the complexity of how people are approached. The following section focuses on the interviewees’ responses to these discriminatory practices.

Handling Experiences of Racism in Semi-Public Spaces

Several interviewees mentioned that they resorted more to internet shopping as it caused less stress. This strategy of avoiding certain shops or shops in general was repeatedly mentioned (see also Sixtensson & Hagström, 2024). Spaces that are characterized by diversity, specific ethnic shops, and central Malmö were often mentioned as less threatening; “Malmö is a kind of refuge. That I have to say.” (Adult man, Latin American background). When this interviewee was young, his parents told him that he could not go to the countryside or small rural towns as they were known for being racist places:

“R:

Partly, we were forbidden to go to certain places.

I:

You were forbidden?

R:

Yes, by my dad. “You may not go to Sjöbo.” I wasn’t allowed to go to Österlen /. . ./ “you don’t set foot in Sjöbo, period. Don’t ever ask me about it again” (Adult man, Latin American background)

Avoidance strategies that occur on the local level are also part of understanding the larger geography of where he lives. Some sites are experienced as “no-go-areas” for racialized people, as inverted visitation zones where racialized persons are targeted (Schclarek Mulinari, 2024).

Discriminatory situations are common, and disputing them was not seen as productive or something that one wanted to do in front of one’s children:

Uh, let them follow me because I don’t feel up to talking back to them. They’ll win in the end anyway.

It’s not worth arguing with them, because then you might end up in trouble and [the] children will see it. (Adult woman, Roma)

Disputing is also difficult when one feels one is in a disadvantaged position, particularly when young and unsure of one’s legal rights. This was the case when this informant was asked to show the contents of her bag:

Maybe because it happens so often, but also because, like, what should I do? It is also like, when there’s a grownup and then these two younger people; we are automatically in a disadvantaged position. But my dad told me that we actually should have refused and then when they called the guards, we could have sued them for something. I don’t know. Because . . . Yes, but we are . . . we don’t exactly know our rights, in that way. (Young Muslim woman, East African background)

Similarly, this man did not want to make a scene, remembering that it had embarrassed him when he was younger and his father raised his voice in such situations:

No, no. Because I was ashamed when he did that, when we were young. (Adult man with Latin American background)

Not wanting to attract attention could be understood in relation to the feeling of being too visible and as a strategy to avoid confrontations.

Another young woman, Black and Muslim, also spoke of being afraid of fighting back as she does not know whether anyone would stand up for her. She began by telling a story of when she, as a 13-year-old girl, was called the “n”-word in public space. She was unsure of how to handle the situation:

R:

When I was younger, I froze, because . . .I wasn’t so used to it. But now I’ve gotten used to it, so now I just say “fuck off.” But usually . . . I know that if I do say something, it will just set them off more. And then, you don’t have the energy. But then I think “but why shouldn’t I be able to defend and stand up for myself either?” Yeah.

I:

So then you still have to assess the situation?

R:

Right /. . ./ You have to judge how dangerous they are. Will I get beaten up in the middle of the street? That’s it. /. . ./ And then I think, “will anyone step in if I get beaten up in the middle of the street?” (Young Muslim woman, East African background)

The political climate in Sweden has allowed for parts of the White majority to be more outspoken about their racist beliefs. Anti-Muslim racism has become part of the mainstream political discourse that affects people in their everyday lives (Schclarek Mulinari, 2024). There is a strong awareness among people racialized as non-White of how they are being perceived. There is a long local historical background to the antigypsyism to which Roma people are subjected (see Persdotter, 2019) and that is prevalent today. They are stigmatized and discriminated against in the labor market, on the housing market, and in public spaces (P. Mulinari et al., 2024). One Roma man interviewed had to explain to his sons why they were being followed in a store:

Another incident I remember, my children were small then. We went to an electronics chain store where they sell video games and stuff like that, and then I came in with my little boys and my partner and they were going to look at games, because we were going to buy them a game. And my partner just thought “I’ll go and look at one of those coffee machines.” When we walk in, there’s a guard standing behind us, right behind us, watching. And suddenly you see that an employee, who is working, goes after my partner and called another person to watch her. We felt it and just “no, we’re not going to shop here anymore.” /. . ./ We left. And my boys, little kids, say “Daddy, why is that guard behind us?” /. . ./ I didn’t say anything, “we’re leaving.” We walked out of the building and then I said to them “well, boys. It’s like that when they can tell that you’re Roma, they call us gypsies, so they think we’re going to steal or do something.” And the kids just wondered why. Small children. (Adult man, Roma)

The passing of experiences between generations illustrates how racist patterns are narrated and become part of one’s identity. Carrying the responsibility of others’ perceptions may also mean that people racialized as non-White behave in a certain way, such as for example being extra polite or kind and showing that they have no bad intentions:

That I need to be . . . have my hands free . . . I want to do “hands up.” “I don’t have anything,” I want to say. Well, a little like that. I want . . . Physically, I still want it. If I’m carrying something in that store now, I carry it clearly. (Adult man, Latin American background)

When I was younger, I always walked with my hands out of my pockets, so they could see my hands. I have nothing in my hands. When I was younger. Without . . . it was deep-seated. You were used to them following you, [thinking] that a Roma would steal right away or something like that. Then I moved my hands so they could see. (Adult man, Roma)

This stigma has deep cultural roots and becomes an integrated part of a Roma experience of being in public spaces.

While most interviewees did not talk back, one female interviewee had developed another strategy:

I usually just ask questions, “do you need help?” [laughs]. I ask . . . Or “do we know each other? You keep following me all the time, was there something you wanted?” (Adult woman, Roma)

By being ironic and using humor, she highlights the absurdity of the situation, turning the question around. Another common strategy is to bring the “white shield”:

Small towns. Smaller towns than Lund, we could say. Then . . . Then it will come. Then I send out . . . We usually joke about it. My sister’s husband is Swedish, ethnically Swedish. We send out the human shield. (Adult man, Latin American background)

This woman felt very different treatment when her Swedish husband was with her:

Returning clothes I’ve changed my mind about to shops or bringing back a gift that I got but don’t like, or if I want to exchange or something, that’s also mission impossible. Sometimes I have to bring my partner, like, he’s Swedish so when he’s with me, and this has happened. (Adult woman, Latin American background)

The humiliating experience of not being trusted or not feeling welcome is a striking illustration of the role of race, where the appearance of someone White immediately solves the problem of interaction in the consumption space. Receiving the service one is entitled to as a customer becomes a White privilege.

Others mention dressing up as a strategy, so as not to be perceived as poor or from a poor area, and using clothes to signal spatial respectability. Clearly, these coping strategies wear on self-confidence and well-being, as mentioned by previous research (Bennett et al., 2015; Grier et al., 2024). For another interviewee, previous experiences had caused tension to build up and with it a risk at exploding at minor incidences. Still, she does not want to talk back. She describes it as a trauma:

When I get nervous I start shaking, my voice sounds like [I’m] about to cry, it’s so highly charged. Maybe I’m exaggerating, but it almost feels like a trauma, and then this little thing happens one day with a receipt, then [there’s] all this baggage that you’re carrying around with you. Maybe it’s an overreaction, but my way of reacting is that I’m on the verge of tears, and I don’t know, if I scream or something, I think I would break down. I can’t be angry, maybe I’m too nice. (Adult woman, Latin American background)

A common denominator for these experiences is the strategy of protecting oneself and setting up a “shield” against anticipated mistreatment, either preventively, through avoidance or how one acts in a certain situation. Adding to the spatialization of social exclusion laid out by Madanipour (1998), it is clear from the study that the aspects of social control are intertwined with internalized practices of how to behave in consumption spaces. The interviewees adjust their behavior in relation to the White gaze. A strategy of protection may include using a “White friend.” Practices of social exclusion appear in the form of racialized prejudices and presumptions rather than informal rules and signs, reinforcing the hierarchy of whiteness. The interviewees expressed that they were concerned and did not want to divert from expected behavior or “stick out”; on the contrary, they try too much to fit in or appear non-threatening. This is an internalized socio-spatial control and bodily confinement that, for example, feminist scholars have long highlighted as part of a female experience of urban life, such as in the “geography of women’s fear” (Pain, 1997; Rose, 1993; Valentine, 1989), which shows how self-constraint affects movements and the access to public space. Likewise, the White gaze and racialized socio-spatial control over public spaces, which are often imperceptible to non-racialized individuals, affect the geography of racialized people on an urban scale (see also Listerborn, 2015).

Responsibility for the racialized situation is carried by the individual subjected to these acts, while the offender is rarely questioned, leaving the “racialized hierarchies” (Essed, 1991) intact. Resistance exists in terms of using humor, asking the staff whether they need help, or by ignoring or making jokes about the situation. Some interviewees talk back and claim their rights, but most do not. Taking a stand in a consumption space might feel less worthwhile than, for example, in work-related situations. The results from the Swedish cases relate to experiences reported from a North American context (Bennett et al., 2015), and they also reveal coping strategies for handling a racialized consumption landscape. Consumption is conditional, and the contradictory experience of being both hyper-visible and ignored creates insecurity about how to behave to be included in these exclusionary spaces. Possessing the economic resources to consume is not enough to be included. Specialized food stores and shops are experienced as an alternative to the White norm, and some interviewees turned more frequently to such stores or to the internet.

Inspired by critical race studies, this article (re-)directs the gaze toward whiteness—the White hegemony—which is often made invisible, like the wind, as described by one informant above. The invisible, exclusionary spatial practices are rendered visible through the testimonies to what the gaze, controlling behaviors, condescending and violative talk do.

Conclusion: A Spatial Understanding of Racism

The rather detailed occasions of experiences of racist encounters described and presented in this article need to be understood contextually, on a macro-level, as Grier et al. (2024) have argued, as individual navigation strategies are developed within the context of how race structures consumption and consumer markets. Space and racialization are co-constructed. Focusing on racism in consumption spaces recalls the analysis that racial geographies are not limited to certain spaces, like the inner cities in the United States, the banlieues in Paris or in “orten”—the urban outskirts (Million Programme areas)—in Sweden. Rather, different spaces create diverse opportunities for power relations to be expressed. Social relations are always spatial, and spatialities constitute and even reinforce aspects of the social: “race—in all of its complexity and ambiguity, as ideology and identity—is what it is and does what it does precisely because of how it is given spatial expression” (Delaney, 2002, p. 7). The ongoing exclusionary processes that take place in consumption spaces are part of the urban realm and cannot be regarded as an anomaly of ill-behaved staff; they are part of the normality of White (Swedish) urban settings. Many of these processes of exclusion are invisible to (ignored by) the White majority but shared and sometimes discussed among people racialized as non-White. Spatial exclusion is one of the most effective ways of maintaining racial hierarchies. This exclusion is both material and discursive, as “people, events, spaces correlate with a ‘set of mental representations in our head’” (Christian, 2019, quoting Hall, 1997). Again, this raises the question of who can be a consumer. Consumption spaces have been a vital part of urban life since the late 19th century and still are, even though much trading takes place on-line. The urban racialized pattern is highly embedded in consumption, just like in housing and the labor market, but it is most often ignored as it contrasts with ideas of urban heterogeneity and diversity of populations in cities as a defining feature of urban life (Madanipour, 1998). The dominant color-blindness ignores that segregating exclusionary practices also happen in these places in Sweden, and not only in certain stigmatized places. Consumption spaces are sadly neglected when talking about segregation.

The empirical results of this article show that the experience of talking about everyday racism is important. Putting experiences into words and sharing situations with parents or friends helps reveal the structure and patterns of racism in consumption places. One interviewee described it as gaining tools to describe experiences that are not seen by people not subjected to this exclusion. Increasing public debate about racism somewhat might make it easier to talk about. While the gendered aspects of racism in relation to parenting are outside the scope of this article, more research is needed on the consequences of parent and child experiences of racism in consumption places, as consumption places often are visited in family constellations. Some incidents described here took place in front of the children and there was a sense of being questioned as a parent, particularly as a father. However, research about everyday racism outside of schools and workplaces remains still rare in a Swedish (European) context.