Tag Archives: Black-owned banks

Consumer Credit Now Rivals Mortgage Debt in African American Households

First our pleasures die – and then our hopes, and then our fears – and when these are dead, the debt is due dust claims dust – and we die too. – Percy Bysshe Shelley

African American household assets reached $7.1 trillion in 2024, a half-trillion-dollar increase that might appear encouraging at first glance. Yet beneath this headline figure lies a structural vulnerability that threatens to undermine decades of hard-won economic progress: consumer credit has surged to $740 billion, now representing nearly half of all African American household debt and approaching parity with home mortgage obligations of $780 billion. In the world of good debt versus bad debt, African America’s bad debt is rapidly choking the economic life away.

This near 1:1 ratio between consumer credit and mortgage debt represents a fundamental inversion of healthy household finance. For white households, the ratio stands at approximately 3:1 in favor of mortgage debt over consumer credit. Hispanic households maintain a similar 3:1 ratio, as do households classified as “Other” in Federal Reserve data. The African American community stands alone in this precarious position, where high-interest, unsecured borrowing rivals the debt secured by appreciating assets.

The implications of this structural imbalance extend far beyond mere statistics. They reveal a community increasingly dependent on expensive credit to maintain living standards, even as asset values nominally rise. Consumer credit grew by 10.4% in 2024, more than double the 4.0% growth in mortgage debt and far exceeding the overall asset appreciation rate. This divergence suggests that rising property values and retirement account balances are not translating into improved financial flexibility. Instead, African American households appear to be running faster merely to stay in place, accumulating debt at an accelerating pace despite wealth gains elsewhere on their balance sheets.

What makes this dynamic particularly insidious is the extractive nature of the debt itself. With African American-owned banks holding just $6.4 billion in combined assets, a figure that has grown modestly from $5.9 billion in 2023, the overwhelming majority of the $1.55 trillion in African American household liabilities flows to institutions outside the community. This represents one of the most significant, yet least discussed, mechanisms of wealth extraction from African America.

Consider the arithmetic: if even a conservative estimate suggests that 95% of African American debt is held by non-Black institutions, and if that debt carries an average interest rate of 8% (likely conservative given the prevalence of credit card debt and auto loans), then African American households are transferring approximately $120 billion annually in interest payments to institutions with no vested interest in Black wealth creation or community reinvestment.

For context, the entire asset base of African American-owned banks—$6.4 billion—represents less than one month’s worth of these interest payments. The disparity is staggering. According to the FDIC’s Minority Depository Institution program, Asian American banks lead with $174 billion in assets, while Hispanic American banks hold $138 billion. African American banking institutions, despite serving a population with $7.1 trillion in household assets (yielding approximately $5.6 trillion in net wealth after liabilities), control less than 0.1% of that wealth through their balance sheets.

This extraction mechanism operates at multiple levels. First, there is the direct transfer of interest payments from Black borrowers to predominantly white-owned financial institutions. Second, there is the opportunity cost: capital that could be intermediated through Black-owned institutions creating deposits, enabling local lending, building institutional capacity but instead enriches institutions that have historically redlined Black communities and continue to deny Black borrowers and business owners at disproportionate rates.

Third, and perhaps most pernicious, is the feedback loop this creates. Without sufficient capital flow through Black-owned institutions, these banks lack the resources to compete effectively for deposits, to invest in technology and branch networks, to attract top talent, or to take on the larger commercial loans that could finance transformative community development projects. They remain, in effect, trapped in a low-equilibrium state unable to scale precisely because they lack access to the very capital that their community generates.

The near-parity between consumer credit and mortgage debt in African American households signals a fundamental divergence from the wealth-building model that has enriched other communities for generations. Mortgage debt, despite its costs, serves as a mechanism for forced savings and wealth accumulation. As homeowners make payments, they build equity in an asset that typically appreciates over time. The debt is secured by a tangible asset, carries relatively low interest rates, and benefits from tax advantages.

Consumer credit operates on precisely the opposite logic. It finances consumption rather than investment, carries interest rates that can exceed 20% on credit cards, builds no equity, and offers no tax benefits. When consumer credit approaches the scale of mortgage debt, it suggests a household finance structure tilted toward consumption smoothing rather than wealth building—using expensive borrowing to maintain living standards in the face of inadequate income growth.

The data from HBCU Money’s 2024 African America Annual Wealth Report confirms this interpretation. While African American real estate assets totaled $2.24 trillion, growing by just 4.3%, consumer credit surged by 10.4%. This divergence suggests that home equity, the traditional engine of African American wealth building, is being offset by the accumulation of high-cost consumer debt.

More troubling still, the concentration of African American wealth in illiquid assets with real estate and retirement accounts comprising nearly 60% of total holdings limits the ability to weather financial shocks without resorting to consumer credit. Unlike households with significant liquid assets or equity portfolios that can be tapped through margin loans at lower rates, African American households facing unexpected expenses must often turn to credit cards, personal loans, or other high-cost borrowing.

This creates a wealth-to-liquidity trap: substantial assets on paper, but insufficient liquid resources to manage volatility without accumulating expensive debt. The modest representation of corporate equities and mutual funds at just $330 billion, or 4.7% of African American assets means that most Black wealth is locked in homes and retirement accounts that cannot easily be accessed for emergency expenses, business investments, or wealth transfer to the next generation.

The underdevelopment of African American banking institutions represents both a cause and consequence of this debt crisis. With combined assets of just $6.4 billion, Black-owned banks lack the scale to compete effectively for deposits, to offer competitive loan products, or to finance the larger commercial and real estate projects that could drive community wealth creation.

To understand why bank assets matter for addressing household debt, one must grasp a fundamental principle of banking: a bank’s assets are largely composed of the loans it has extended. When a bank reports $1 billion in assets, the majority represents money lent to households and businesses in the form of mortgages, business loans, and lines of credit. These loans are assets to the bank because they generate interest income and (ideally) will be repaid. Conversely, the deposits that customers place in banks appear as liabilities on the bank’s balance sheet, because the bank owes that money back to depositors.

This means that when African American-owned banks hold just $6.4 billion in assets, they have extended roughly $6.4 billion in loans to their communities. By contrast, African American households carry $1.55 trillion in debt. The arithmetic is stark: Black-owned institutions are originating less than 0.5% of the debt carried by Black households. The remaining 99.5% or approximately $1.54 trillion flows to non-Black institutions, carrying interest payments and fees with it. If Black-owned banks held even 10% of African American household debt as assets, they would control over $155 billion in lending capacity more than twenty times their current scale creating a powerful engine for wealth recirculation and community reinvestment.

The exclusion from consumer credit is even more complete than these figures suggest. There are no African American-owned credit card companies, and most African American financial institutions lack the scale and infrastructure to issue Visa, MasterCard, or other branded credit cards through their own institutions. When Black consumers carry $740 billion in consumer credit much of it on credit cards charging 18% to 25% interest virtually none of that debt flows through Black-owned institutions. Every swipe, every interest payment, every late fee enriches the handful of large banks and card issuers that dominate the consumer credit market. This represents the most direct and lucrative form of wealth extraction: high-margin, unsecured lending with minimal default risk due to aggressive collection practices, all flowing entirely outside the Black banking ecosystem.

By comparison, a single large regional bank might hold $50 billion or more in assets. The entire African American banking sector commands resources equivalent to roughly one-eighth of one large institution. This scale disadvantage manifests in multiple ways: higher operating costs as a percentage of assets, limited ability to diversify risk, reduced capacity to invest in technology and marketing, and difficulty attracting deposits in an era when consumers increasingly prioritize digital capabilities and nationwide ATM access.

The decrease of Black-owned banks has accelerated these challenges. The number of African American-owned banks has declined from 48 in 2001 to just 18 today, even as the combined assets have grown from $5 billion to $6.4 billion. This suggests that the survivors have achieved modest scale gains, but the overall institutional capacity of the sector has contracted significantly. Each closure represents not just a loss of financial services, but a loss of community knowledge, relationship banking, and the cultural competence that enables Black-owned institutions to serve their communities effectively.

The credit union sector presents a more substantial but still constrained picture. Approximately 205 African American credit unions operate nationwide, holding $8.2 billion in combined assets and serving 727,000 members. While this represents meaningful scale more than the $6.4 billion held by African American banks the distribution reveals deep fragmentation. The average credit union holds $40 million in assets with 3,500 members, but the median tells a more sobering story: just $2.5 million in assets serving 618 members. This means the majority of African American credit unions operate at scales too small to offer competitive products, invest in digital banking infrastructure, or provide the full range of services that members need. Many church-based credit unions, while serving vital community functions for congregations often underserved by traditional banks, hold assets under $500,000. The member-owned structure of credit unions, while fostering community engagement and democratic governance, also constrains their ability to raise capital through equity markets, leaving them dependent on retained earnings and member deposits for growth, a particular challenge when serving communities with limited surplus capital.

This institutional deficit has profound implications for the debt crisis. Without strong Black-owned financial institutions, African American borrowers must rely on financial institutions owned by other communities that often offer less favorable terms. Research consistently shows that Black borrowers face higher denial rates, pay higher interest rates, and receive less favorable terms than similarly situated white borrowers. A 2025 LendingTree analysis of Home Mortgage Disclosure Act data found that Black borrowers faced a mortgage denial rate of 19% compared to 11.27% for all applicants making them 1.7 times more likely to be denied. Black-owned small businesses received full funding in just 38% of cases, compared with 62% for white-owned firms.

These disparities push African American households and businesses toward more expensive credit alternatives. Unable to access conventional mortgages, they turn to FHA loans with higher insurance premiums. Denied bank credit, they turn to credit cards and personal loans with double-digit interest rates. Lacking access to business lines of credit, entrepreneurs tap home equity or personal savings, increasing their financial vulnerability.

The absence of robust Black-owned institutions also deprives the community of an important competitive force. Where Black-owned banks operate, they create pressure on other institutions to serve Black customers more fairly. Their presence signals that discriminatory practices will drive customers to alternatives, creating at least some market discipline. Where they are absent or weak, that discipline evaporates.

Corporate DEI programs that once channeled deposits to Black-owned banks have been largely eliminated. The current federal political environment is openly hostile to African American advancement, with programs like the Treasury Department’s Emergency Capital Investment Program facing uncertain futures. External support structures are collapsing precisely when they are most needed, leaving African American institutions and individuals as the primary actors in their own financial liberation, a task made exponentially more difficult by the very extraction mechanisms this analysis has documented.

The near-parity between consumer credit and mortgage debt in African American households is not a reflection of poor financial decision-making or cultural deficiency. It is the predictable outcome of structural inequalities that have limited income growth, constrained access to affordable credit, concentrated wealth in illiquid assets, and prevented the development of financial institutions capable of serving the Black community effectively.

The comparison with other racial and ethnic groups is instructive. White, Hispanic, and other households all maintain mortgage-to-consumer-credit ratios of approximately 3:1 or better. They achieve this not because of superior financial acumen, but because they benefit from higher incomes, greater intergenerational wealth transfers, better access to credit markets, and stronger financial institutions serving their communities.

African American households, by contrast, face headwinds at every turn. Median Black household income remains roughly 60% of median white household income. The racial wealth gap, at approximately 10:1, ensures that Black families receive less financial support from parents and grandparents. Discrimination in credit markets, though illegal, persists in subtle and not-so-subtle forms. And the institutional infrastructure that might counterbalance these disadvantages from Black-owned banks, investment firms, insurance companies remains underdeveloped and undercapitalized.

The result is a community that has achieved a nominal wealth of $5.5 trillion, yet finds that wealth increasingly built on a foundation of expensive debt rather than appreciating assets and productive capital. The $740 billion in consumer credit represents not just a financial liability, but a transfer mechanism that annually extracts tens of billions of dollars from the Black community and redirects it to predominantly white-owned financial institutions.

Breaking this pattern will require more than incremental change. It will require a fundamental restructuring of how capital flows through the African American community, how financial institutions serving that community are capitalized and regulated, and how wealth is built and transferred across generations. The alternative of continuing on the current trajectory is a future in which African American households accumulate assets while simultaneously accumulating debt, running faster while falling further behind, building wealth that proves as ephemeral as the credit that increasingly finances it.

The data from HBCU Money’s 2024 African America Annual Wealth Report provides both a warning and an opportunity. The warning is clear: the current path is unsustainable, with consumer credit growing at more than double the rate of asset appreciation and institutional capacity remaining stagnant. The opportunity is equally clear: with $5.5 trillion in household wealth, the African American community possesses the resources necessary to build the financial institutions and wealth-building structures that could transform debt into equity, consumption into investment, and extraction into accumulation.

The question is whether the community, and the nation, will recognize the urgency of this moment and take the bold action necessary to recirculate capital, rebuild institutions, and restructure household finance before the debt trap closes entirely. The answer to that question will determine not just the financial trajectory of African American households, but the capacity of African America rise in power and to address the racial wealth gap that remains its most persistent economic failure.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ClaudeAI.

From Showtime to Shutout: What the Lakers Sale Says About Black Ownership in Sports

“Wealth is created in ownership. If you don’t own, you’re always at someone else’s mercy.” – Robert F. Smith

June 2025’s record-shattering $10 billion sale of the Los Angeles Lakers to Guggenheim Partners chief Mark Walter confirmed what many already suspected: franchise values are rocketing into the financial stratosphere. Yet the deal also spotlighted a harsher truth. After nearly a half-century of hard-court brilliance and gridiron dominance, African Americans are still largely locked out of true ownership power. This article examines why—tracing the structural barriers that keep Black wealth on the playing field instead of in the owner’s suite, and outlining the institutional reforms needed to change the score.

From the Field to the Boardroom: Still a One-Way Street

African Americans make up roughly 70–75 percent of NBA players and about 60–65 percent of NFL rosters. In the WNBA, the share is even higher. Yet across 154 combined franchises in the NBA, NFL, MLB, and NHL:

  • Zero teams are majority-owned by African Americans in the NFL, MLB, or NHL.
  • Only one historic example (Robert L. Johnson’s Charlotte Bobcats/Hornets) and one recent example (Michael Jordan, 2010–2023) exist in the NBA.

Three forces keep that door shut:

  1. Intergenerational-Wealth Deficit – Most Black athletes are first-generation millionaires, while many current owners are third- or fourth-generation billionaires.
  2. Limited Collective Capital Vehicles – Black-controlled banks and investment firms are few and undercapitalized relative to mainstream counterparts.
  3. Opaque League Gatekeeping – Franchise valuations above $4 billion and insider-driven vetting processes deter new entrants without deep networks.

The Robert L. Johnson Breakthrough—And the Mirage of Progress

On December 18, 2002, BET founder Robert L. Johnson secured the NBA’s Charlotte expansion franchise for $300 million, becoming the first African American majority owner of a modern U.S. pro team. The milestone was historic, but it proved fragile. Lacking a pipeline of Black institutional capital—no HBCU endowment co-investors, no African American businesses or firms operating as minority owners—Johnson operated alone. By 2010 he sold controlling interest to Michael Jordan, whose own 2023 exit returned the league to its status quo: African American talent on the court, minimal African American equity off it. Symbolic breakthroughs absent institutional follow-through do not create sustainable inclusion.

The LeBron Conundrum: Cultural Power Without Governance Leverage

Billion-dollar athlete-entrepreneur LeBron James epitomizes the new Black business titan—owning film studios, apparel lines, and minority stakes in Fenway Sports Group. Yet even LeBron, arguably the most financially astute athlete of his generation, cannot write a solo check for a majority share of an NBA or NFL team. Average franchise prices now exceed $4 billion in the NBA and $6.5 billion in the NFL.

LeBron’s estimated net worth, while staggering at $1.2 billion, pales in comparison to the financial firepower wielded by new Lakers controlling owner Mark Walter, who is worth an estimated $5.5 to $6 billion personally—and controls access to far greater institutional capital. As CEO of Guggenheim Partners, Walter leads a global financial firm with over $345 billion in assets under management (AUM), according to the firm’s own reporting.

That institutional reach gives Walter an unparalleled advantage: the ability to deploy capital at scale, with leverage, and over long time horizons. His 2012 acquisition of the Los Angeles Dodgers for $2 billion was just the beginning. Now, his control over the Lakers reflects how ownership is secured not by personal wealth alone—but by deep institutional infrastructure.

The gap is not merely one of celebrity or business acumen—it is one of capital architecture. LeBron’s wealth is largely rooted in earned income and venture-backed enterprises, while Walter’s access to Guggenheim’s multi-hundred-billion-dollar asset base enables him to execute major acquisitions swiftly and without co-investors.

Until African Americans gain collective control of similar institutional investment vehicles—through private equity firms, pension-managed funds, or bank-led syndicates—Black excellence in sports will continue to be celebrated on the court, but denied authority in the boardroom.

Building a Syndicate That Can Actually Write a Check

If African Americans are to move from the highlight reel to the cap table, the capital stack must shift from aspirational community pooling to institutional syndication—driven by organizations already designed to deploy large checks and assume complex risk. Pragmatism, not idealism, is the order of the day.

Capital SourceAsset BaseRealistic Deployment Rationale
Black-Owned Banks (18 nationwide)$6.4 billion in assetsFDIC-insured balance sheets, access to low-cost deposits—including the growing wave of Fortune 500 “diversity deposits”—can underwrite debt facilities or pledge Tier 1 capital to a buyout fund.
Black Investment & Private-Equity Firms (e.g., Ariel, Vista, Fairview, RLJ)$70–90 billion AUM (collectively)Deep GP/LP relationships with public pensions and foundations; experienced at assembling $100–$500 million special-purpose vehicles (SPVs) around a single asset.
HBCU Endowments (102 institutions)≈ $5 billion totalAsk for 0.5–1 percent commitments per school—$25–50 million system-wide—providing research access, internships, and brand equity rather than acting as anchors.
Athlete Sidecar FundVariableStructure a managed feeder that lets players co-invest passively (no tithes or self-directing). Capital is professionally deployed—removing behavioral risk.
Corporate & Public PensionsTrillionsMany plans reserve 5–10 percent for “emerging managers.” A Black-led sports-ownership PE fund fits this mandate.

1. Banks as Capital Bridges
Black-owned banks can’t buy teams outright, but they can warehouse capital and extend critical financial infrastructure. By leveraging corporate “diversity deposits” and issuing credit facilities, they can become crucial intermediaries that keep transaction fees and governance influence in Black hands.

2. Investment Firms as Syndicate Architects
Black-led PE firms already understand the terrain. By structuring a flagship $400–$600 million sports-focused fund, they can attract institutional LPs and scale their acquisitions from minority WNBA stakes to majority control in emerging or undervalued leagues.

3. HBCUs as Modest Strategic LPs
HBCUs should not be burdened with anchoring such funds. Instead, they can contribute symbolic capital, student talent pipelines, and academic value. For example, a 1 percent commitment from Howard or Spelman tied to naming rights or internship guarantees would align mission with opportunity.

4. Athletes & African American Families as Co-Investors, Not Donors
A feeder fund with low buy-ins and lock-up periods allows them to invest with institutional support. This protects them from high-risk self-management and ensures alignment with professional fund managers.

5. Execution Timeline

  • 2026–2028: Assemble GP team, secure $150 million from banks and PE partners, with layered support from HBCUs and athlete and African American businesses co-investors.
  • 2028–2032: Close a $500 million Fund I and acquire equity in two WNBA teams and a controlling NWSL stake bundled with real estate.
  • 2032–2037: Launch Fund II at $1 billion, targeting a controlling interest in an MLS or NBA franchise.
  • 2040: Own a major-league asset with governance representation from African American banks, investment firms, and HBCU partners—creating long-term cash flows and intergenerational wealth held by Black institutions.

Media Rights and the Power Gap

Owning teams is only half the battle. The NBA’s next domestic media deal could top $75 billion, and yet no Black-owned network will participate directly in those revenues. Streaming platforms, RSNs, data-analytics firms, and betting partnerships—all profit off Black athletic performance. Until African American institutions enter the media-rights supply chain, the revenue fountainhead remains out of reach.

Cultural Iconography, Financial Dispossession

Hip-hop tracks blare in arenas, sneaker culture drives merchandise sales, and social-media highlights fuel league engagement—but licensing profits flow to predominantly white ownership groups. Careers end; ownership dynasties do not. The average NFL tenure is 3.3 years; Robert Kraft has owned the Patriots for 31 years. Equity compounds; salaries evaporate.

From the Boardroom, Not the Ball Court: Where Owners Really Make Their Money

A glaring misconception is that sports fortunes begin with sports talent. In practice, franchise control stems from non-sports industries:

OwnerTeam(s)Primary Wealth Source
Steve BallmerLA ClippersMicrosoft stock
Stan KroenkeRams, Nuggets, ArsenalReal estate / Walmart marital fortune
Robert KraftPatriotsPaper & packaging
Mark CubanMavericksBroadcast.com tech exit
Joe TsaiNets, LibertyAlibaba IPO
Josh HarrisCommanders, 76ersApollo Global Mgmt. (private equity)

None earned money playing pro sports; all deployed patient, appreciating, often tax-advantaged capital to buy franchises. In contrast, athlete income is earned, highly taxed, and front-loaded. A $200 million NBA contract, after taxes, agents, and lifestyle inflation, seldom equals the liquidity needed for a $6 billion NFL acquisition.

African Americans dominate labor yet rely on labor income to pursue ownership—an uphill climb when the ownership class uses diversified portfolios, inheritance, and leverage. The gap is not just financial; it’s structural.

A Blueprint Forward

African American banks, PE firms, and institutional investors must build syndicates that mirror the strategies of the existing ownership class—while rooting the returns inside Black institutions.

  • 2026–2030 – Launch a $500 million Fund I with contributions from banks, investment firms, HBCUs, and athletes.
  • 2030–2035 – Acquire multiple minority and controlling stakes in undervalued leagues.
  • 2035–2045 – Expand into media-rights, merchandising, and facilities ownership.
  • 2045–2050 – Control a major-league asset and use it to empower future generations via scholarships, pensions, research grants, and equity reinvestment.

Owning the Game—or Owning What Funds the Game?

The persistent call for African American ownership in major league sports raises a deeper question: Should African Americans even prioritize owning sports franchises, when we remain almost entirely absent from the very industries—technology, finance, energy, real estate—that generate the wealth used to buy these teams in the first place?

Mark Walter didn’t become the Lakers’ majority owner through basketball. He did it through Guggenheim Partners—a financial firm managing $345 billion in assets. Steve Ballmer bought the Clippers not from years of courtside ambition, but from cashing out Microsoft stock. Owners dominate sports not because of athletic brilliance, but because they own pipelines, patents, trading desks, and land—the assets that make sports ownership a byproduct, not a goal.

For African Americans, the concern isn’t just that they don’t own the team. It’s that they don’t own the banks that financed the team, the media companies that broadcast the games, or the tech platforms monetizing fan engagement. It is a misallocation of focus to aim for the outcome—sports ownership—without first entering the industries that produce ownership-level capital.

There’s no harm in wanting a seat in the owner’s box. But the more strategic question is: why not aim to own the entire ecosystem? The scoreboard. The stadium real estate. The ticketing software. The AI that tracks player stats. The advertising networks.

Athletes made sports cool. Billionaires made sports profitable. African America must ask whether it wants symbolic entry into an elite club—or whether it wants to control the industries that fund the club.

The real power isn’t just in the arena. It’s in what surrounds it. And until African Americans own those arenas—of finance, data, infrastructure, and media—they will always be positioned to play the game, but not define it.

Final Whistle

The scoreboard of ownership still reads 0-154 against African Americans in most major leagues. Talent fills highlight reels; equity fills trust funds. The route to flipping that score will not be paved by bigger contracts or more MVP trophies. It will be built through African American banks mobilizing capital, investment firms leading syndicates, and HBCU institutions gaining board seats—not just honorary jerseys.

Athletes have inspired generations. Now, institutions must finance generations.

The next dynasty to celebrate should not just hoist a trophy—it should hold a deed.

Disclaimer: This article was assisted by ChatGPT.