That actually validates @anon67050589’s citation of a dictionary, because the historical usages of the term are relevant. Historically, the bourgeois assault on the aristocracy included attacks on feudal privileges. I’d say, though, that the logic of the history of the term is relevant. The basis of power of the rich is that they’re rich, so talking about their privileges is redundant – unless you’re talking about powers they have that aren’t directly related to their being rich. Those aren’t legal privileges – those generally went to the guillotine along with the aristocracy. It tends to refer to a lot of extra-legal systems, “old boys’ networks” and that sort of thing, the sort of thing that allows Donald Trump to go bankrupt and then go back to being a billionaire. So, by extension from the privileges of the rich, you have other sorts of privileges, which are generally extra-legal and thus deniable or invisible.
It’s met with misunderstanding and antagonism from some quarters, and general acceptance in others. Which quarters are which, matters. In general, I see white people objecting to the concept of white privilege, men objecting to the concept of male privilege, etc., and most often, I think this comes out of widespread acceptance of structural racism, sexism, etc.
There’s a subset of objections that come from people who insist (often with good reason) that they’re principled opponents of these things, but that they feel the language of privilege is alienating or misleading. I don’t think it is; in fact, I think there’s a tendency to deny just how common white racism is and how common misogyny is, and how much pressure there is to pretend otherwise.
For me, Ferguson was a wake-up call, though I’d had enough wake-up calls in the past that I shouldn’t have needed it. What struck me, immediately after the death of Michael Brown, was that there were a lot of white people whose immediate reaction was to openly celebrate the fact that the police had murdered a young black man, and most of the rest were casually dismissing the significance of that.
Part of where I’m coming from is that, in the 90s, I was part of a socialist group that argued emphatically against this sort of usage of “privilege”. At the time, I was embroiled in heated arguments on a college campus with identity politics advocates. I think we were right to be critical of their arguments, but wrong to attack the concept of “privilege”. We were, in practice, alienating most activists of color, by making it clear we were rejecting anything they had to say before they had a chance to say it. The main problem I had with identity politics, in the 90s, was that it pre-emptively ruled out any concept of solidarity, and was thus a dead-end. In recent years, the limited excuse of countering that bad argument with another bad argument has become invalid, since I don’t see the identity politics crowd ruling out working with allies or denouncing socialism anymore.
Leaving one’s baggage at the door, acknowledging that white privilege, etc., exist, is a precondition for solidarity. Why should people of color trust white people who won’t even acknowledge the problem?