Economic mobility and opportunity are foundational American promises: If you’re willing to work hard, you will have a fair chance to thrive. When clear paths are open for anyone to achieve economic security, our workforce becomes more vigorous, our communities more resilient, and our nation more prosperous.

Yet today, headlines trumpet eliminating diversity, equity, and inclusion offices at universities; politicians rally their base by portraying these programs as divisive or dangerous; corporations are hopping on board, scaling back commitments made during 2020’s racial reckoning and erasing the gains we’ve seen over the past five years—removal of the contributions and historic milestones and accomplishments of Black and Brown people, women, and immigrants.

But by tossing aside diversity, equity, and inclusion initiatives with the claim that they undermine meritocracy, we risk dismantling the structures designed to create fair access to opportunity for our workforce.

This threatens our collective economic potential and undermines our ability to build a truly inclusive economy where talent from all backgrounds can contribute. The cost of this dismantling doesn’t just fall on those who are the perceived beneficiaries of such programs but on our entire workforce ecosystem.

At a time when we should unite as a community in response to tragedies and the loss of life, we have heard this administration and its allies refer to individuals as “DEI hires,” attributing these crises to “wokeness.” Incidents such as the D.C. plane crash (blamed on intellectual disabilities), the collapse of Maryland’s Key Bridge (attributed to the Black governor of Maryland and the Black mayor of Baltimore City), and the attempted assassination of President Trump (blamed on women serving as Secret Service agents) illustrate this troubling trend.

This narrative implies that Black and Hispanic people, women, people with disabilities, and members of the LGBTQIA+ community do not achieve their positions based on their skills, experience, or education. Instead, it suggests that their success is solely due to their race, gender, disability, or sexual orientation. Furthermore, it reinforces the idea that straight white men are the default and that anyone outside of that demographic does not deserve to exist, progress, create, contribute, or have their voice heard in this country.

Unfortunately, this divisiveness exacerbates a profound fracturing of our shared community fabric that has been happening for decades. But even before diversity, equity, and inclusion became a dog whistle, it fell short of achieving its goal of truly including anyone who is excluded from attaining economic security—primarily poor white men.

These two forces—intentionally dividing us and unintentionally making some people feel undervalued—might make it seem better to abandon the whole approach. Resist that inclination.

When inclusion efforts falter, they don’t just affect workplace demographics; they close doors to economic advancement for millions of Americans across all backgrounds.  We must not abandon this vision but instead evolve our approach toward “true inclusion”—a more robust framework for rebuilding community across deepening divides.

The Valid Heart of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion

I still believe in making our workplaces and country fair and welcoming for everyone, and I applaud those still working on those efforts. Research consistently shows that organizations perform better when people from diverse backgrounds have equal access to career advancement, and communities experience more substantial economic growth and resilience. These initiatives emerged from recognizing that our institutions and systems have not served everyone equally, and deliberate efforts are needed to address historical inequities. This core commitment to fairness and representation is the only way to ensure people lead lives of their choosing.

But in our effort to be more fair and representative, some programs too often emphasized numerical metrics over lived experiences, reducing complex human dynamics to demographic checkboxes. Some initiatives inadvertently created perceptions of exclusion among certain groups—mainly working-class white Americans who felt their struggles were minimized and that they were tossed aside so others could get ahead.

When someone sees a corporate diversity, equity, and inclusion statement but doesn’t see investment in their economic future, the resulting resentment is understandable. When diversity, equity, and inclusion are framed (or perceived) as promoting some groups at the expense of others, they unwittingly reinforce the fractures they aim to heal.

Rather than defending terminology, we must pivot toward a more expansive vision of inclusion that addresses historical inequities and current divisions while ensuring economic opportunity, security, and upwardly mobile careers are available to all.

True inclusion means making the table bigger for everyone. It recognizes that the unemployed veteran in West Virginia, the immigrant family in Los Angeles, and the transgender teenager in Texas all deserve dignity and voice. It acknowledges that our differences matter, but so does our shared humanity.

One intriguing model for this new path forward is what’s known as “deep canvassing.”

Rather than sidestepping tough conversations, deep canvassing centers them. Unlike other forms of political conversation, deep canvassing prioritizes listening, asking people to have more extended conversations about values and underlying experiences, not just policy beliefs and political loyalties. The counterintuitive idea behind deep canvassing is that sometimes, the way to change someone’s mind is to understand their current state better. Deep conversations can be time-consuming, but in an era that rewards soundbites and talking on the “other side,” deep and attentive listening can promote genuine inclusion and belonging.

Our communities didn’t fracture overnight, and rebuilding them requires intentional effort. Each of us has a role to play.

As individuals, we must ask questions through a lens of curiosity, assuming goodwill and good intent, and practicing radical listening, particularly with those whose experiences differ from ours. As leaders, we must model inclusive behavior by ensuring diverse voices inform decisions, acknowledging blind spots, and creating environments where authentic dialogue flourishes.

The attacks on inclusion serve as a warning about the fragility of our progress toward a more just society. But we can still rebuild the society we desperately need by heeding that warning and embracing true inclusion.

True inclusion isn’t just a moral imperative—it’s an economic necessity if we want to build a workforce where talent can thrive regardless of background. Our collective prosperity depends on tapping the full potential of every willing worker.

Now is not the time to retreat from our commitment to equity—it’s time to deepen it by ensuring everyone feels invited to participate in creating our shared future.