Understanding DEI: What It Means and Why Some Companies Are Moving Away From It

 

 The company used to have a Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion department so big it needed its own zip code. They had meetings about meetings to schedule pre-meetings. At one point, someone created a flowchart to explain the flowcharts.

Then one morning, the CEO walked in, tripped over a stack of laminated “Inclusive Communication Guidelines,” and face-planted directly into a bowl of ethically sourced, gluten-free office trail mix. That’s when things started to change.

“New plan,” he said, still wearing almonds like a facial scrub. “We’re simplifying.”

Nobody knew what that meant, but the DEI team immediately formed a subcommittee to analyze the emotional impact of the word “simplifying.”

Meanwhile, HR replaced a 47-page onboarding packet with a sticky note that just said: “Be normal. Don’t be weird.”

The office descended into chaos.

One manager tried to give feedback without first issuing a “verbal cushion statement,” panicked, and instead complimented the employee’s shoes for ten straight minutes. Another attempted to run a meeting without a “safe sharing circle” and accidentally started a competitive shouting match about spreadsheets.

In the break room, two employees stared at each other, unsure if they were allowed to make eye contact without filing a form.

“Do we… just talk now?” one asked.

“I think so,” the other replied, immediately spilling coffee all over themselves from the pressure.

The former DEI director wasn’t taking it well. They wheeled in a whiteboard labeled “Emergency Inclusion Response Plan,” tripped on the cord, and sent the board crashing into a motivational poster that read “Synergy Starts With You,” which then knocked over a ficus, which hit the intern, who accidentally emailed the entire company a meme titled “We’re Just Making This Up As We Go.”

Oddly, morale improved.

People started solving problems instead of scheduling discussions about solving problems. Meetings got shorter. Someone even finished a project before launching a task force about finishing it.

But every now and then, the ghost of the old system would appear.

A rogue PowerPoint would surface with 92 slides titled “Understanding Understanding.” A calendar invite would pop up for a “Preliminary Alignment Sync Alignment.” Someone would whisper, “Should we circle back?” and three employees would instinctively dive under their desks.

In the end, the company didn’t fully abandon anything—they just stopped turning everything into a three-ring circus… mostly.

Except for Greg in accounting, who still insists every conversation begin with a formal acknowledgment of the copier’s lived experience.

Nobody has the heart to stop him.