Last week, an indignant black man in a position of influence in the media did something executives in his position rarely do -- he pulled the plug on a black performer who insulted the dignity of his black audience.

Believe me, if this happened regularly, I wouldn't feel the need to mention it.

The occasion for this latest profile in courage was the 14th annual Black Enterprise/Pepsi Golf & Tennis Challenge, a scholarship drive for underprivileged kids itching to learn the fundamentals of golf, tennis and snobbery.

Earl Graves, founder of the entrepreneurial-minded magazine that sponsored the event, couldn't believe his ears when the evening's headliner began throwing around a certain racial epithet like he had never heard of l'affaire Michael Richards.

Comedian Eddie Griffin lost no time in introducing the audience of 1,200 well-heeled sponsors to the kind of lowbrow humor that has justifiably doomed him to much-deserved obscurity.

Smoking a cigarette and wearing a sideways baseball cap and shorts, Eddie Griffin did everything except toss fried chicken and watermelon into the front row to express his contempt for the audience. The feeling was mutual.

Usually when a miscreant reaches this point in a performance, someone from a civil rights organization that has lost its way will take the stage to present the performer with a plaque. Singer R. Kelly, for example, walked away with an NAACP Image Award in 2004 -- despite facing indictment in a notorious child pornography case that is still awaiting trial.

But back to the show. Eddie Griffin was 10 minutes into a routine that had only generated sporadic laughter when his minstrel show was unceremoniously derailed.

When the comedian's microphone went dead in the middle of a routine about white women, he grabbed a floor mike, but it was dead, too.

Still, the second banana in such culturally insignificant movies as "Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo," "Scary Movie 3" and "Norbit" would not be denied. He shouted profanities and finished his joke before stomping off the stage, secure in the knowledge that he had a lock on an NAACP Image Award next year.

Earl Graves didn't mince any words when he took the stage to explain why he cut Eddie Griffin's mike. The 72-year-old businessman wasn't the least bit awed by Eddie Griffin's "celebrity."

"We at Black Enterprise will not allow our culture to go backwards," Mr. Graves said. The businessman -- who is old enough to remember when shuckin' and jivin' was the only option for black performers -- received a standing ovation.

"We will pay Mr. Griffin all that we owe him, but we will not allow him to finish the show if that's the way he's going to talk," Mr. Graves said.

It was a watershed moment in black corporate responsibility.

Left unexplained was why Eddie Griffin was invited to headline a swanky fund-raiser in the Legends Ballroom of the Doral Golf Resort and Spa in Miami in the first place. Was Snoop Dogg not available?

The whole debacle could have been avoided if someone had invested a few minutes into researching a simple question: Is Eddie Griffin our kind of people?

Bad planning aside, I appreciate what Mr. Graves did because it establishes a new precedent for dealing with black entertainers who devalue their audiences -- cut their mikes.

Some entertainers, especially those in heavy rotation on Black Entertainment Television, can't sleep unless they've debased black culture in every way imaginable. The more white folks watching their self-hating psychodramas, the better.

But what would happen if every executive in a position to pull the plug on an Eddie Griffin did so without a second thought?

Imagine how much better off black folks would be if someone with a conscience at VH1 had smothered "Flavor of Love" at its development stage a few years ago. We would have been spared such cultural delights as "Flavor of Love Girls: Charm School" and its endless sequels.

BET may be a lost cause, but imagine the good the once black-owned cable network could have done if it had taken its influence on the culture seriously. These days "Hot Ghetto Mess" and public service announcements like the insulting "Read a Book" cartoon are the best BET can do.

As Earl Graves proved, it's never too late for individuals and institutions to do the right thing by pulling the plug on the Eddie Griffins of the world. If there were just a few more incensed black people in corporate America like him, we could find ourselves in a position to overcome an endless flood of mediocrity someday.