An Alternate History of Diversity Efforts
How the smallest change might've made a big difference
In this column:
What if…
Two competing visions of diversity
The speech that never happened
10 possible consequences of the road not taken
I don’t write much about DEI. Gobs of other people focus on the subject, and often the discussion produces more heat than light. That’s not my bag.
But recent events have made me wonder whether one small change to diversity implementation years and years ago might’ve made a world of difference. That change might have not only dramatically lowered the temperature of future debates, it might have also strengthened higher education—and efforts to help disadvantaged groups.
So here’s my question:
What if higher education had made political diversity one of the core elements of the diversity agenda?
Two Visions of Diversity
Today, DEI is understood as an array of initiatives designed to protect and assist historically marginalized groups.1 But a generation ago, when diversity programs were first taking root, the aim was described differently. Back then, the focus was primarily on ensuring that all groups and all individuals could equally participate in discussions, access opportunities, and shape their organizations. Those early-stage diversity efforts recognized that American fairness demands equal opportunity, that decision-making is stronger when a variety of perspectives are included, and that organizational leaders often purposely or inadvertently exclude certain groups.
This earlier understanding of diversity emphasized that all leaders need to constantly check themselves to make sure all groups are being given a seat at the table. A key lesson was that all leaders are susceptible to blind spots. This earlier understanding of diversity also emphasized that organizations hurt themselves when they don’t make room for everyone.
In my opinion, the under-appreciated aspect of today’s debate is that the early conception of diversity and today’s conception of DEI—although the two might seem indistinguishable—can lead to very different types of implementation.
A few examples.
If you believe in the everyone-engages approach, you’d probably be a free-speech maximalist—everyone needs a full voice. But if you believe in the support-of-the-marginalized approach you might be willing to limit speech that could affront the disadvantaged.
If you believe in the everyone-engages approach, you would ensure all sides of a contentious debate get the chance to fully express themselves. If you believe in the support-of-the-marginalized approach, you’d probably privilege the arguments of those deemed to be the most historically underrepresented.
If you believe in the everyone-engages approach, you would defend, even encourage, unpopular research and advocacy—because even provocative ideas are worth exploring. But if you believe in the support-of-the-marginalized approach you might be willing to limit research and advocacy that is deemed potentially harmful to the disadvantaged.
If you believe in the everyone-engages approach, professional development and training would focus on free speech, free inquiry, and the skills and dispositions of democratic deliberation—we need to teach people to be forthright and courageous but respectful in the public square. But if you believe in the support-of-the-marginalized approach, training would probably teach people how to advance the cause of those deemed to be the most historically underserved.
I think this framework helps explain why—despite years of diversity and inclusion efforts—so many private universities have been hostile to free speech and inquiry, why students and faculty report so much self-censorship, and why the presidents of three of America’s most prestigious universities were unable to explain their policies on free speech, safety, protest, and antisemitism.
In short, lots of organizations haven’t been clear about a) what diversity and free speech actually mean to them and b) whether some people and some ideas can be excluded in the name of inclusion (e.g., repressive tolerance).
10 Possible Consequences of the Road Not Taken
I don’t know exactly when or how the initial diversity conception gave way to the more modern DEI conception. But today’s radioactive battles do make me wonder if things could have turned out differently.
When I think of the current travails of Columbia; the remarkable recent about-face on mandated diversity statements and contribution requirements; the recent about-face on university political statements; the fights over speech codes, and so on, I keep wondering what might’ve happened had one or more university presidents, 20 or 25 years ago, explicitly included political diversity in the conception of diversity.
Imagine if a college president had gathered her executive team and said something like this:
We are going to pursue a diversity agenda that ensures our institution becomes fairer and more open to historically marginalized groups. That is essential. But we must also be mindful of our institution’s progressive bias. We don’t talk about it, but we know that there are very few Republicans and conservatives on our faculty or in our leadership ranks. We know that our strongest campuses voices are very left of center. “Diversity” means including everyone more fully, and we know that our institution, for whatever reason, is not very good at naturally including those on the political right. So as we ramp up our diversity work, we will explicitly include political diversity in our definition. That will help us to do better on this score and help us hold ourselves accountable for results.
I think this would have had astonishing ripples. That tiny statement could’ve changed the course of the last generation on campus. Here are 10 possible consequences.
Expansive free-speech and free-inquiry protections: I bet we wouldn’t have had today’s speech codes. When you explicitly embrace those who disagree on matters of policy, politics, and philosophy, you will naturally recognize their need to freely express themselves.
No university-wide political statements: When you recognize the legitimacy of a variety of perspectives on difficult issues, you’ll avoid declaring one position to be correct.
Stronger public support for higher education: Public support for higher education has fallen significantly in recent years, partly because campuses are viewed as too political. Had campuses prioritized political diversity, they wouldn’t have earned this reputation.
Conservatives as possible allies: Much of the decline in public support for higher education is due to cratering support from the right. They often see campuses as downright hostile. Had colleges prioritized political diversity, conservatives might today be strong defenders of diversity initiatives instead of often fierce opponents. Diversity might’ve been understood by the right as a tool to ensure their views were protected and that people like them were hired .
No mandatory hiring statements: Many campuses decided that embracing the modern conception of DEI was essential, so they required job applicants to articulate and demonstrate their commitment to particular views. This violated job-seekers’ freedom of conscience and all but excluded anyone with a dissenting point of view. A campus that prized differences of political opinion never would have required such loyalty oaths.
A politically balanced faculty and administration: Presidents, provosts, deans, department chairs, and search committees would’ve understood their duty to ensure some political balance in hiring. They would have asked questions about possible political imbalance in departments and what caused it. They would have advertised their interest in right-of-center candidates. They would have recruited conservatives to various roles.
Improved academic output: In the last generation, academia has suffered from a replication crisis and jaw-dropping instances of politicized academic journals. Had there been more political diversity on campuses, the wider array of perspectives could have led to more rigor and far less group-think.
No need to create new centers: One of the most interesting campus developments of the last decade—one that continues to grow—is the emergence of new academic centers that commit to political diversity and free inquiry. These have become necessary because many faculty members—especially those on the right—don’t feel at home in many departments because of the progressive politics. Had campuses committed to political diversity, this movement would have never happened.
Less polarization, better citizens: With more open political disagreement on campus, college leaders could have recommitted to teaching students how to appreciate diverse viewpoints, how to disagree agreeably, and how to foster their own curiosity and engagement skills. That would’ve decreased society’s political polarization and developed a new generation of productive citizens for our pluralistic, democratic republic.
Stronger diversity initiatives for the disadvantaged: Had diversity initiatives explicitly included more people, more people would have seen themselves as allies of diversity initiatives. Diversity efforts would have been embraced broadly as a way to make more space for everyone. The upshot would have been more stable support for all such work—including programs for the historically marginalized.
Expanding opportunity, particular for disadvantaged individuals and neglected communities, has been one of the drivers of my career.