As the culture wars heat up, fueled by the limitless power of oversimplification and one-dimensional arguments, I thought that, rather than just screaming in frustration, it might be interesting to pick a topic and talk it through. Today I choose, more or less at random: diversity, equity and inclusion. When this movement (or at least, this label for the movement) picked up steam a few years ago, I really didn't anticipate it becoming such a lightning rod for hate... but I was obviously naive.
Let me start by saying what should be obvious: I am very much in favor of diversity. Everyone should be in favor of diversity, because without it, life would be much less interesting. There's nothing quite like exposing people to others with different backgrounds and experiences to spark invention, inspire creativity and add freshness to familiar ideas by viewing them through a different lens. That's the basis of the whole American "melting pot" cliché, one of the nation's legitimate claims to greatness. And even if you set the lofty stuff aside, Americans love to consume things, and without diversity and the resulting cultural exchange, we wouldn't have nearly as many interesting things to consume (intellectually or gastronomically).
So if diversity is a universal good, why would anyone be opposed to it? The obvious answer is "racism," but conversations about racism are just as prone to dangerous oversimplifications as fear-mongering against diversity, because racism is, like many things, more of a spectrum than an absolute. There's the obvious end where people belonging to one group directly and explicitly hate people belonging to other groups purely on the basis of identity. That's a real thing, but it's also only the tip of the iceberg. A little further down the spectrum, there are people who don't necessarily hold ideologies of hate but consciously or unconsciously exploit existing power imbalances for their own personal benefit. And then there's the bottom half of the spectrum, where people treat others unequally not out of hatred or selfish intent, but out of other emotions ranging from fear to mild discomfort. There's even the paradoxical possibility of avoiding or mishandling interactions with people of other identities out of fear of being perceived as a racist, or discomfort with the historical reality of racism.
The classic example of the insidious kind of racism has to do with hiring. If a hiring manager in a relatively homogeneous organization has a slate of candidates to choose from, if all other factors appear to be equal (or, let's be honest, even if they don't), they are more likely to choose a candidate who already looks and sounds like the rest of their team, because people are comfortable with the familiar, while the unfamiliar raises questions and concerns. Will linguistic differences make communication more difficult and less effective? Will it take special efforts to make this person feel truly welcome and comfortable so they can gel with the team? What kinds of unanticipated conflicts could emerge from cultural misunderstandings? These aren't malicious or hateful questions (ignorant, perhaps), but they're enough to disfavor people who are different, and it creates an unlevel playing field without requiring a conspiracy of hate. The existence of actual hate just serves to amplify the situation.
Enter the DEI movement (building upon past efforts with other names): an attempt to recognize these challenges and build tools to overcome them, so people can see past their fears and biases to actually hire the best candidates, and to help people working in diverse teams to understand and appreciate one another. These are noble goals, but there are legitimate reasons that people have concerns about tackling them programmatically.
The first and biggest concern is that many people hear "diversity program" and immediately interpret that as "quota system." The quota system is the bluntest of blunt instruments for establishing diversity. While I can understand why it might be chosen as a tool (it's very clear-cut as a measurement of success, for one thing), I also understand why it is widely hated. It feels gross for everyone involved: you don't want to be chosen or rejected for a position on the basis of race, whether it favors or disfavors you. It fuels resentment on one side and impostor syndrome on the other. But viewing the DEI movement as being solely about quotas is a dramatic oversimplification.
A lesser but perhaps more realistic concern is the fact that any program like this tends to lead to mandatory workplace training programs which might (horror of horrors) incorporate awkward corporate-flavored ice breaker sessions. I don't know many people who enjoy these types of things, even though they can on occasion actually be helpful or informative. I'm not sure how likely they are to change hearts and minds that are not already open. A poorly-planned session could even harden opposition if received by a hostile audience as unconvincing propaganda. But the promise is that if somehow all of the accumulated cynicism and hostility could be overcome, this could help us better connect with one another and achieve greater things. It's not a bad goal, even if I'm not exactly sure how to reach it — our present world seems built to amplify cynicism and hostility, and I don't really see a way to manufacture an experience that reliably breaks through those walls.
So where does that leave us? The goals of increasing diversity and encouraging equity and inclusion are sound ones; they point us to a fairer, safer and more productive world. Our genetic and cultural backgrounds cannot be changed, but they also do not determine our capabilities or our value; it is wasteful to let them separate us and prevent growth and collaboration. Like too many of our problems, this situation is both real and not real. The whole idea of race is largely in our heads — while there are of course groups of people that have shared and distinct characteristics, the borders between these groups are fuzzy and hard to define scientifically. Whether or not race should mean anything, it still does mean something, because of centuries of complicated history behind it, and the manipulation of these forces by those who would benefit from the magnification of wealth gaps and consolidation of power.
We can't erase this mess; it's too big. But there are certainly things we can and should do:
1.) Actively resist hateful ideology. Don't get suckered into opposing a group of people because of the actions of a few individuals, or worse, hypothetical activities that you think they might attempt. Work to prevent specific harms, not to harm specific people. Stand with and support those who are unjustly targeted.
2.) Examine your own biases, because we all have some. Resist them when they are counterproductive (which is most of the time). Keep in mind that my suggestions in the point above apply not just to groups you instinctively like but also those that you may have reasons to distrust or misunderstand.
3.) Get to know people. At this point in my life and career, there are people I respect and care about all over the world. I've connected with some through shared hobbies and interests, and others through professional activities. Regardless of how we met, they have all broadened my world view and opened my mind. It's actually not hard to find interesting common ground with people; for all of our differences, most of our activities and interests fall into a small number of categories: art, entertainment, food, sport, nature. Compare notes with people and you might discover things that enrich your life. You'll also likely find yourself rapidly accumulating counter-examples to all of the usual stereotypes.
4.) Stop the name-calling. I don't see how using "DEI hire" as a pejorative is any different from throwing racial slurs, and I have no time for it. I'm also tired of endless "you're a racist" / "no I'm not" arguments online. I fully support calling out bad behavior (it shows solidarity with the target of attacks, even if the attacker is irredeemable), but a simple "not cool" seems a lot more effective than starting an unproductive fight that will at best accomplish nothing and at worst help push someone up the spectrum from "accidental racist" to "enemy of social justice warriors."
None of this seems like it should be very hard; I truly believe that the majority of people are capable of doing better. However, I'm also well aware that we are currently in exceptional times. We need to resist more than just simple misunderstanding and ignorance: we're up against the purposeful construction of a top-down system of malice, the legal empowerment of the most blatant kind of white supremicism, and the attempted deconstruction of most of the safety nets that protect our society. It's no joke. But embracing diversity has to be part of the resistance to fascism; if we can't find common ground in basic decency despite our differences, we all fall to the power of selfish minorities.
– Demian Katz, January, 2025
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