Dei is under fire, not just a politician, but from the academy itself. The initial push for equity is now facing an existential crisis. Teachers, students and even long-time advocates are questioning whether Dei is lost – whether it becomes too symbolic, too scripted or powerless to achieve real change.
I have been a DEI official in the field of higher education for five years. I pushed for change in the academic system that claimed to want it. I still believe in dei. However, I’ve seen it fail frequently – not because the idea is wrong, but because the execution is wrong. Diversity, equity, and inclusion can be transformative when well thought out and strategically embedded. But they often backfire when they become symbolic gestures, checkbox exercises, or top-down authorization without trust or buy. I’ve seen both.
This is not an evacuation. I write this because I still believe in the work and because the belief without censorship is dangerous. Dei does not need to be removed. It requires reform, strengthening and being more honest. We need fewer slogans and more substance. Less signals and more systems. Most importantly, the complexity of this work is more humble.
One of the biggest problems I see is reducing diversity to race, race or gender. These are important dimensions, but not the overall picture. When diversity becomes merely an agent for visible identity markers, we miss out on what really makes the institution stronger: a wide range of life experiences, skills and worldviews. Inclusion has nothing to do with consent – it is to make room for people who are different in the world. The danger of being too narrow attention is that we create institutions that seem diverse but whose members still believe to be the same, and this whole cannot solve complex problems. This makes us worse at solving them.
We live in a very complex period. Whether we are going to address climate change, artificial intelligence, mental health, or global conflicts, these challenges need to be cross-difference. Research shows that diverse teams produce better results. They are more creative, more innovative, and more likely to challenge originally untested assumptions. However, it only works if the inclusion is real rather than performing performance. Diversity without inclusion is like assembling a symphony, never letting half of the musicians play.
This is why we can’t afford the error. Because when we do this, the consequences are not just in missing out on opportunities for innovation, but in eroding trust, disengagement and opposition. In many cases, weapons were carried out politically, and some of the rebounds were also driven by real problems with the DEI itself.
We need to be honest with one of the questions: silent disagreement. When Dei makes compositions in a way that shows that there is only one acceptable point of view (or people who make legitimate criticism are seen as degenerate people), it undermines the values of inclusion and dialogue. True equity work must provide space for disagreements, especially when it is respected and based on a shared desire for improvement.
When critical issues are seen as threats, or when people are concerned about the professional consequences of expressing dissent, we can undermine the value of intellectual rigor and inclusion that Dei is designed to maintain. This is a short path from ideological clarity to rigidity that can close the conversation required for progress. Inclusion must also mean that it contains unwelcome opinions. This is a lesson I learned.
Another challenge to continue to undermine DEI efforts is the perception of so-called diversity hiring. The phrase is loading, toxic, and (when Dei is not done well) is not completely unfounded. This perception is needed in institutions that reduce recruitment to the checking crowd box. With that, the hired person is immediately set to fail. Not because they lack qualifications, but because their colleagues are convinced that they were selected for the wrong reasons. It erodes trust, reproductive dissatisfaction and legitimizes the entire process.
But that’s not what it should be. When done correctly, it expands the search process. It won’t lower the bar. This means investing in a wider network, conducting targeted outreach activities, and ensuring that the applicant pool reflects all talent that exists. This means interrupting the bias of shape recruitment, especially in homogeneous sectors. When you do this, the candidate pool becomes more diverse and more competitive.
During our tenure as DEI officer, we developed a suite of teacher recruitment tools to address these challenges. It supports wider outreach and inclusive work advertising and helps the search committee examine how bias affects assessments. The tool suite is adopted throughout the university and serves as the basis for peer-reviewed publications. The search committee reported feeling more confident and recruitment results began to reflect that intention. This is what it looks like when Dei becomes a tool of excellence rather than a threat.
But even the best tools cannot repair a broken structure. Many DEI leaders are employed to drive change, but deny the power or resources to do so. Their task is to change institutions, but is on the verge of decision-making. And, when changes are not fast enough, they blame them. I felt that pressure. And, I’ve seen how it erodes trust-not just those who work, but for the community they were supposed to serve. If we take fairness seriously, we must stop viewing DEI as a priority, and it is also an afterthought. It cannot be the conscience of the institution and its scapegoat at the same time.
The truth is, the DEI office or officer is irrelevant at all. What matters is what these offices and individuals have the right to do, and how institutions respond. Dei structures often have grand titles, but have very little actual authority. They are underfunded, burdened, and expect to bear the weight of transformation without tools. Worse, they are sometimes used for symbolic signals when real decisions occur elsewhere.
Here is a hot view: Land confirmation is one of the clearest examples of symbolic dei errors. Even many DEI advocates are upset about speaking out loud, but this is the conversation we need to have. They were initially recognised with respect for indigenous peoples, and they often became formulaic, superficial and without follow-up. The gesture ring is hollow when institutions recite them without attracting the Indigenous community, investing in their success or solving today’s systemic problems. Sometimes it even counterproductive – making the appearance of moral action without matter. This is the danger of symbolic DEI: it feels good at the moment, but conceals the real work that needs to be done, and it may do more harm than good. Respect requires more than just words. It requires meaningful participation, investment in resources and ongoing commitment.
Another hot point: Sometimes restrictions make jobs better. Guardrails (even legal ones) may force us to become more creative, more deliberate, and more focused on practical and effective methods. In my hometown of California, DEI work was conducted under the legal restrictions of Proposal No. 209 passed in 1996, which prohibits public institutions from considering race, gender, or race in enrollment, employment, or contracts. In 2020, a voting initiative to abolish Proposition 209 failed, leaving the status quo intact but rekindled the debate about what equity should be in the racially neutral legal landscape.
The 2020 vote did not mark the shift, but reaffirmed the challenges that California institutions have had in the past three decades. Public colleges and universities have spent years adapting – expanding advocacy and pipeline programs, improving search processes, and investing in mentoring and faculty development without the need to use racially conscious standards. Without relying on the most legally fragile tools, they are forced to build on a legally reasonable model of reform, widely applicable and not vulnerable to political attacks.
California is not alone – some other states have adopted similar restrictions. While the state is not immune to the scrutiny and investigations faced by institutions across the country, Prop 209’s restrictions force a more intentional and lasting approach to equity – a course that could provide useful for others.
With opposition to Dei, spread through litigation, legislation and public discourse, it is easy to see it as a reactionary. Sometimes it is. But sometimes it is a response to the real flaw: a lack of transparency, ideological rigidity, symbolic efforts, no results. The solution is not to give up on dei. This is better. More stringent, fewer theaters. More results, fewer slogans. We need to distinguish between bad guys and kindness. Between the chasm of division and unity. Between placement and what changes.
Here is the reality: alternatives to diversity, equity and inclusion – unity, inequality and exclusion – do not value what any institution should accept. Few people, even skeptics, defend. The real debate has nothing to do with the values themselves, but rather about how they are implemented and whether the methods we use really improve the outcomes we claim to care about. If you want to survive, you must evolve. Don’t like something more shiny or stylish, but becomes something real. Built on trust, not performance. This trust will not come from more committees or statements. It will come from showing our work, having our mistakes, and sticking to the values that bring us into this field.
That’s what I learned. I’m still learning. But I didn’t lose hope. The ground is shifting – but this destruction brings opportunities. It’s fertile soil that can build something better. If we bring more humility to our certainty, provide more evidence for our strategy, and provide more courage to the conversation, then this may not be the end of Dei. This may be the beginning of a stronger start.
