Using DEI as an insult is really code for something else

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Shirley Phillips is a former deputy minister in the Ontario government.

It’s become common in certain circles to use the term “DEI hire” to disparage a person, and to suggest they are in a role to fill a diversity, equity and inclusion quota. Most notably, U.S. Vice-President Kamala Harris, who is eminently qualified to be the presidential nominee for the Democratic Party, has been labelled as such by her rivals. It’s an easy insult, a dog whistle denoting tokenism and questioning her legitimacy.

DEI exists for many good reasons, not least because redressing inequities and enabling all citizens’ full participation in the work force increases competitiveness, boosts productivity and is simply the right thing to do. Still, when doors that were previously shut are opened, each individual is responsible for walking through and delivering on the other side. Attributing a person’s earned success solely to DEI is specious. It doesn’t just smack of sour grapes; it also undermines that individual’s broader experience and expertise.

I had a successful 30-year career in government. I worked my way up from early junior roles as a researcher and bilingual adviser for the government of Ontario under then-premier David Peterson in the late 1980s. Over the years, I moved through all levels of senior management and executive ranks. During my tenure as assistant deputy minister, I managed Ontario’s response to the Syrian refugee crisis, among other critical issues. As deputy minister, I had the honour of serving in three portfolios: Citizenship and Immigration, International Trade, and finally, Economic Development, Job Creation and Trade, where I managed Ontario’s response to the renegotiation of the North American free-trade agreement. I was the first woman of colour appointed to the vaunted economic development file.

I enjoyed a wonderful career that afforded me myriad opportunities, all of which required hard work and dedication. But almost every single time I landed a new role, every step of the way, there were inevitably those who felt I got the job because I was brown – full stop. It’s highly simplistic thinking, but it also belies a much deeper issue.

Looking around at the company I kept, it was clear who had long benefited from unfair advantages – and it wasn’t the people who looked like me. The vast majority of my colleagues throughout my career were white. During the time I served as deputy minister, most of my counterparts in Ontario and across the country presented as able-bodied cisgender white men – so yes, it’s fair to say that I brought some much-needed diversity to the table. To me, that’s not a negative thing, and, thankfully, things have changed substantially at that table since then. After all, considering a full range of viewpoints and ensuring input from people representative of our society results in better business and policy decisions. The problem at the time was what an anomaly I was, and how hard it was to move the yardstick to change that.

I was often asked to sit on interview panels to ensure a DEI lens was applied to decisions. That did not mean that candidates were selected because they came from diverse backgrounds; it simply meant that the barriers to fair process – of which there were many – were kept somewhat in check. I was also routinely tapped to be a ministry’s “DEI champion,” though other leaders had far more to learn than I did on that front. I did it, though, to be a role model and to give hope to those who faced discrimination and wanted to be seen for their full potential. This is not about tokenism or optics. It’s about systemic change – and it’s an old story.

Everyone deserves to run freely on a level playing field, and to be given a chance not just to fit in, but to belong. The world is full of boardrooms and executive tables whose homogeneous composition has been built and sustained by the old boys’ club for hundreds of years. Few, if any, of my white male deputy-minister counterparts were questioned – or wrung their hands – about their legitimacy. They viewed their promotions as merit-based, took any special treatment that came their way at face value, and felt entitled to be exactly where they were. They were good colleagues and we worked well together. However, it was never lost on me that having access to a bigger piece of the pie, feeling like you belonged no matter what room you were in, and enjoying a higher level of humanity just by virtue of your gender and skin colour is a privileged place to be. But is that truly a satisfying win? To me, it’s better to compete with the whole world and be the best, than to compete only with a narrow slice of the population that looks, sounds and thinks the way you do. That’s what DEI allows.

I never doubted my qualifications. I fought for and earned my right to be at the table. Still, I knew I had to work harder than others to prove my worth. While it’s frustrating – even exhausting at times – to have to justify the space you take simply because you are not another one of the usual suspects in the job, it’s also vitally important. Ultimately, the benefits far outweigh the cost, because times need to change.

The only people not ready for this shift are those who are afraid to compete fully, refuse to relinquish power, and want to hold onto the old ways of doing things, whether they’re effective or not. They have no vested interest in changing the systems designed to keep them in place. So when people who are experienced, competent and qualified – and, yes, come from diverse backgrounds – smash glass ceilings and break down barriers to full participation, perhaps they should be recognized, rather than denigrated, for their ability to get ahead against the odds. Rather than calling this a matter of “inclusion,” which implies letting someone into an elite club, let’s talk about creating fair and open channels. And instead of expecting people from diverse backgrounds to feel grateful for getting a leg up, let’s recognize that they shouldn’t have needed the boost to begin with.

The world’s not in great shape, and we need to do better. I, for one, can’t wait to see future generations embrace the full range of human potential at their disposal. Till then, all the “firsts” we are witnessing – or still awaiting – are necessary and meaningful. Blazing a trail creates a path for those who come after us. And going first means no one else ever has to go first again.