Diversity & Inclusion

Mirror, mirror on the wall...

I wanted to write about Diversity & Inclusion, because it has been a very real question for me since my early teens, and because in recent years I have been fortunate enough to work with some of the leading experts in the field, and on what I hope will prove to be innovative online approaches in this area (both at the BBC and with the team here at BP).

And yet this 2008 Washington Post article cites a study of 830 US organisations implementing diversity training which broadly concludes that they harm diversity. Levels of minority group representation actually fell as a consequence of mandatory diversity training. I don’t find this surprising.

Whilst the reasons for this are unclear, I would speculate that it is because diversity training (and especially the online course) has tended in the past to fall into one of two categories:

1)    The reprimand: the white male majority (of which I am a part) may easily feel that the subtext of diversity training runs something like ‘you have been treating these groups badly in the past, you must do better’. In reality guilt is generally only shouldered for so long before it is rationalised: several psychological experiments over the last few decades have demonstrated that far from feeling sympathy with victims, people tend to denigrate them. Somehow (we reason) they deserved it. Our feeling that we are, in some nonspecific way, being accused of prejudice becomes misdirected resentment.

2)    The charity appeal: a related but equally damaging possibility is that training courses send the message ‘these groups need our help’. Whilst superficially well-intended, there is a real chance that this kind of approach unintentionally reinforces a stereotype of minority groups in which they are seen as in need of assistance and – by inference – less capable.

Whilst I now find it fairly easy to spot these kinds of flaws, it is less easy to know what to do about them. One interesting alternative is to ‘argue the business case’ – which is normally something along the lines ‘our customers are becoming more diverse, we must therefore become more diverse as a business’. There are a couple of problems here: firstly, if the argument is to stand up then much more needs to be said about the specifics – since at face value there are many non-diverse organisations who seem to be doing quite well. Secondly, and as Binna Kandola points out, if diversity is the right thing to do why do we need a business case at all? Would we put together a business case for behaving ethically? Have you ever seen a business case for safety?

A more recent trend, and one which I have been happy to follow, is the shift in terms of reference from diversity to inclusivity. Emerging views of diversity have noted a shift away from the conventional ‘strand-based’ conception (black, gay, female, jewish, disabled, single etc.) to a less category-oriented approach. This is helpful since it tracks the increasing complexity of the ways in which people choose to categorise or not categorise themselves. It is harder, for example, to say who is and is not middle-class – and this may not be a helpful approach in any case. In addition, there is a growing awareness of the rich psychological and cultural diversity which underlies superficial similarities. I know first-hand that some of the most pernicious forms of discrimination relate not to traditional distinctions but ones which relate to means of expression – for example male/female or working/middle class differences in language use. Speak confidently and you are heard. Speak quietly and you are dismissed. Use the right words.

Inclusivity is a much better discussion to have: not least because it is clear that a lack of inclusivity in key areas – such as decision-making – can have serious implications for the quality of decisions and associated areas, such as creativity and problem-solving. These are things which do matter deeply to businesses. A business that makes good decisions is an inclusive business. In addition, none of us likes to be left out – and this in turn is a strong argument for inclusivity, namely ‘we are all different, we all want to be respected and heard’. Though fundamentally sound there is still a problem with this approach – it can be used to rationalise the status quo: a group of middle-ages white men can sit round the table and persuade themselves that they are marvelously diverse based on their technicolor spread of MBTI ratings.

Another trend is to focus on areas such as unconscious bias and subtle exclusion. Again, I think this is a good thing: if you can get everyone to acknowledge that they possess biases, that what differentiates us is the degree to which we engage in critical self-examination, and if you can somehow embed this into everyday behavior – then I believe it is possible to make some progress. Having said this, addressing unconscious bias can also turn out to be the soft option for organisations reluctant to tackle the issues head-on: so what are people actually supposed to do differently? What is the change we expect to see as a consequence? We want to avoid merely opening the door to a new class of self-congratulatory behavior.

And this brings us to the heart of the issue: training programmes which are not coupled with specific diversity policies and programmes are unlikely to bring about change, even where they affect attitudes. Oona King, for example, has put in place a ‘Diversity Toolkit’ which spells out the specific recruiting behaviors expected of staff at Channel 4, coupled with supplier selection criteria which set out requirements around supplier diversity. If you don’t make the grade, we can’t work with you.

This point also exposes a question common to much elearning content creation: is it possible to bring about behavior change within an elearning module? My contention (in previous blogs) is that attitudes generally follow behaviors (not vice-versa), so anything aimed at attitude change alone will be largely ineffective. But what alternative is there? What I have tried to do in more recent work is to place audiences in a realistic context - one in which they are given the opportunity to decide a course of action supportive of diversity - in the hope that these virtual decisions will then provide a baseline for workplace attitudes.

But at the heart of the diversity debate there is anxiety – and this is not entirely misplaced. When I was conducting interviews with senior managers in preparation for the creation of the BBC’s diversity online programme I noticed that they would often talk about diversity in terms of ‘bravery’. ‘Managers should be more courageous in recruiting new talent.’  Why? Because for many people – people who are used to working in a familiar way with familiar people, people who best understand other people who are most similar to them - diversity represents a risk. Hiring a staff member who is a wheelchair-user or requires flexible working arrangements will present challenges – challenges which they may not have encountered before and which may require them to change or to be more flexible. They may not know what to say or how to react. And at the core of human nature is a resistance to change. Merely inclining people to be brave may not be enough. What about those organisations which are profoundly risk-averse?

But the flip-side should be encouraging: programmes such as the BBC’s Extend which facilitate placements of disabled staff across the business can help to advance the cause of diversity greatly – by breaking down preconceptions and overcoming anxieties. Diversity training should be accompanied by real opportunities to work with people different from ourselves and by policies which bring about measurable change.

The injunction ‘know thyself’ has haunted me since my days as a philosophy student. It is only now, many years later, that I have any confidence in my response – and that has only come as a result of my experience of other, very diverse, people. I cannot say that this makes for a business case – but it is one of the few things that one can really accomplish in one’s lifetime, I think.