College leaders are alarmed by criticisms of equality, diversity and inclusion (EDI), most recently set out by Reform UK’s leader Nigel Farage, who wants to ban public bodies (including colleges) from engaging in or promoting EDI (also known as DEI) policies.
But it is time to rethink this agenda. The general public is already shifting in its stance. Recent research shows a modest majority still support EDI, but the numbers have fallen dramatically in a year.
Pollsters find that policies such as flexible working, inclusion training and blind recruitment are popular, but only 19 per cent want EDI to go further, while 36 per cent say it has gone too far.
Critics, including academics, come from across the political spectrum.
I too am an EDI sceptic. I think it delivers a formulaic, spreadsheet version of equality, diversity and inclusion, and rarely does much to help the most disadvantaged.
Most EDI-related issues originate in real struggles in civil society, where groups such as trade unions, or movements for civil rights or women’s equality, organised and represented themselves.
It is now the preserve of “expert” consultants, compliance officers, trainers and accredited bodies who can be, and often are, promoting an EDI-deology.
This EDI-deology has a recognisable methodology. Society is thought of in terms of groups, defined through fixed identities (such as class, race, or gender). Equality is about average group outcomes. In a world of big data, these are relatively easy to analyse, with the aim being to spot disparities in the average outcomes for each group. These disparities are assumed to be unfair and caused by structural advantages and disadvantages. Solutions are actions which close the gaps and equalise the average outcome.
This methodology does not receive a great deal of public scrutiny, although it should, because it is widely practised but deeply flawed. Among the general public, the solutions gain more attention, often being a source of discontent. They can seem like social engineering, playing off one group against another, producing results no fairer than the injustice they set out to redress. In assessing impact, EDI advocates frequently celebrate the beneficiaries of different interventions, but they almost never consider the losers.
Frank Dobbin, author of Getting to Diversity, What works and What Doesn’t shows that many widely used EDI initiatives are ineffective and often counterproductive. And he is critical of the professional culture, among the expert class, of diffusing “best practice” without any evidence to back it up.
The result is that they drive EDI “norms” through consultancy, professional bodies and regulators – defining problems, prescribing solutions and certifying compliance. But they have no one holding them to account.
The result is that we are surrounded by EDI myths.
The “McKinsey myth”, for example, claims there is a “business case” for board-level diversity, because it makes companies more profitable. Academics have scrutinised the original research and shown the evidence to be flimsy. There is evidence that diversity of thought matters, but demographic diversity is a different story. We might like the idea and want it to be true, but confirmation bias and binary thinking should not cloud reality.
Throughout my career, which has involved working on some high-profile projects in area-based regeneration, community cohesion, and initiatives to improve educational and economic outcomes for the most disadvantaged, I struggle to think of any examples where EDI made a positive contribution in shaping effective interventions. This is because of the flaws in the method.
Groups are rarely as easy to define as we think, and average outcomes mask more than they reveal. They can help spot broad patterns, but cannot be easily transposed into individual cases because few individuals are average. In any statistical group, there is a range, and within group-variation can be larger than between-group variation. It is not safe, therefore, to assume disparities in group outcomes are, in themselves, unfair. It is too easy to confuse correlation with causation.
And the most disadvantaged can get lost. If we divided the world into five socio-economic groups and planned, arbitrarily, that 10 per cent from each group could have a free income for life, 70 per cent worked for a living and enjoyed relative comfort, but 20 per cent were condemned to a life of misery, the group averages would all be equal. Would this be fair? Or would it be formulaic EDI-deology?
These are not abstract problems.
Has the attainment of poor white boys been masked, until recently, because group averages suggested white children as a whole were doing reasonably well? Has the NEETs problem received so little attention for the past decade because equalising group outcomes meant focusing on those with greater potential for “long upward” social mobility? Does the use of the “disadvantage gap” actually help anyone, or does it reinforce inequality by measuring all against a standard academic criteria which some will always fail to live up to? And what exactly does it propose we do for those who don’t do well academically, but are apparently not disadvantaged? Has EDI been much of a friend to FE, or do better group outcomes for the disadvantaged usually mean FE is the least desirable option?
Refusing to subscribe to the full-fat EDI methodology does not mean rejecting equality, diversity or inclusion. It means thinking differently about how we help all individuals to achieve their potential, being less attached to a rigid methodology for delivering this (there are other approaches), being more critical of those who set the agenda, and being much more anchored in the evidence. And it definitely means listening to different points of view.
After all, surely the form of diversity which we should most value, give equal treatment to and include, is diversity of thought.