I have been working in diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) for more than six years. This year, more than ever, I have started to question what the purpose of it really is. Though I’ve been celebrating companies that took a stand against Donald Trump’s anti-DEI executive orders, under the radar I have noticed an insidious censorship rearing its head.
Since 2023 we have been witness to one of the worst atrocities of our lifetimes. Livestreamed to our phones, we have seen the slaughter of at least 58,000 Palestinians, more than 17,000 of them children, and many of them in hospitals, schools, refugee camps and food queues. We have seen the denial of water, electricity and medical supplies, the obliteration of communities, mass manmade starvation, and continued calls by Israeli ministers for the permanent expulsion or eradication of Palestinians in Gaza. Israel’s plans for a so-called humanitarian city to be built on the ruins of Rafah has been described by the former Israeli prime minister Ehud Olmert as a “concentration camp”.
Yet, although more than 200 companies released statements after the Hamas attack on 7 October 2023 – wholeheartedly condemning it and donating money to relief funds – since then, there has been a relative silence in the face of the ongoing destruction in Gaza.
One senior manager I spoke to said he had received an email telling him to remind staff they weren’t allowed to wear “political” badges during the Gaza conflict. Another company leader firmly stated, “We’re an apolitical company. Our staff need to remember that.” Last year, 50 employees were fired by Google after protesting against its and Amazon’s $1.2bn (£900m) Project Nimbus cloud infrastructure contract with the Israeli government. And just last weekend we saw an official at the Royal Opera House attempt to snatch the Palestinian flag from a cast member who unfurled it on stage after a performance.
All these organisations have DEI agendas. They say they are committed to inclusion and equal opportunity, and to enhancing business growth through diversity. Yet it seems this commitment is conditional on people’s silence. You can belong, as long as you don’t make us uncomfortable. We value your identity, as long as it’s not political.
Yet the companies themselves are not devoid of politics. A recent report by the UN special rapporteur for Palestinian territories, Francesca Albanese, backed by a number of high-profile economists, exposes the vast number of businesses who have been enabling or profiting from the Israeli military operation in Gaza. “The report shows why the genocide carried out by Israel continues … because it is lucrative for many,” it says, highlighting not just arms manufacturers but also the complicity of big tech, household brands and even educational institutions.
Booking.com and Airbnb have been listing properties in illegal Israeli settlements, enabling profit from stolen land. And, in the most stark cases of corporate hypocrisy, companies such as BAE Systems, which is directly tied to the Israeli military machine and dehumanisation of Palestinians, proudly brand themselves as champions of dignity and respect.
For the first time, I have found myself questioning not just how we do DEI work, but whether it means anything at all. If DEI is about rewiring unjust systems, how can companies silence staff who speak out or, worse, actively profit from a brutal war machine, and still claim to be inclusive? What is the role of DEI, if not to embed values and basic humanity within the company?
What is even more frustrating is that we have a direct blueprint of how business leaders can approach this. Since the invasion of Ukraine, more than 1,000 companies have voluntarily curtailed operations in Russia as a recognition that they don’t stand for war crimes, the murder of civilians or the ensuing humanitarian crisis. They hung Ukrainian flags on their buildings, donated tens of millions to humanitarian organisations, offered housing and created fast-track hiring schemes for Ukrainian refugees. The Royal Opera House itself published a statement in support of Ukraine, lit up its building in the Ukrainian flag colours, and for a period of time played the Ukrainian national anthem before every performance.
For many staff, this contrast makes the corporate silence on Gaza feel even more pointed. It’s not “apolitical”, it’s a choice. And it is a failure of DEI, which at its core is about challenging systems that breed inequality. It is rooted in values of fairness, dignity and respect for all. This isn’t simply about respecting racial or religious difference on an interpersonal level, it’s about who you invest in (or divest from), what you choose to speak out on, how you balance profit with purpose. To stay silent in the face of mass violence sends a clear message: some lives don’t matter.
What gives me hope is the people-powered movements within companies. Staff are holding their leaders to account. Be that employees at the Boston Consulting Group who shared a letter to the company’s top management demanding an end to its involvement in the development of the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation, staff at the Berlin-based retail company Zalando protesting against the dismissal of an Arab employee who criticised its support of Israel, or the more than 100 BBC staff who spoke out against censorship in its reporting of Israel/Palestine. These ordinary workers are taking up the mantle where DEI is failing.
We need to move away from this current sanitised, apolitical version of DEI towards one with meaning. Core values of dignity, humanity and fairness need to be integral to business decisions, not just corporate buzzwords. If you stand for nothing, you will fall for anything. And that’s not a DEI I want to be part of.
Jinan Younis is the founder of diversity, equity and inclusion agency WeCalibrate and former assistant politics editor at gal-dem magazine
