Why we get zero diversity shortlists

And what we can all do about it

It’s a moment of pure despair anyone who works to champion diversity and inclusion (D&I) will recognise well. When a thorough, impartial and prestigious award shortlist is published with no or low obviously visible diversity in its midst. I say despair but it elicits a curious blend of frustration, irritation, anger and hopelessness. A lot of great work is being done in this space in food, drink and hospitality. So, why do we end up here time and time again? And what can we do to change it?

The shortlist or award-winner reveal is usually the tip of a far bigger iceberg. There are challenges with D&I at every level of it starting at the very bottom. It’s complex, it’s industry-wide and it’s also unjustifiable. So, let’s break it down. Always keen for your thoughts too!

The beginning

Food and drink, media and publishing are not the most diverse of sectors for a start. Many families want their children to pursue careers in areas perceived as traditionally professional and lucrative. Think law, business, medicine (feel free to add your own joy) etc. Mine reacted in horror when I suggested media, so I was made to do Business Studies. By the time I suggested a Masters degree in Journalism, my father had discovered Rupert Murdoch and agreed to the ROI (return on investment) I now represented.

I didn’t last in journalism for a number of reasons. A newly-married, first-generation immigrant cut off from the family kitty, I couldn’t afford it, for a start. Many of these careers need financial propping in the early years. Some of this continues well into more established phases. It is commonly accepted that food writing alone doesn’t always pay the bills. You need additional income - through generational wealth, a partner or another income stream. Doing a job that doesn’t help make ends meet is a privilege not everyone can afford.

The middle

Now once you’re in the role, you need to stick at it, grow, keep going. These are hard at every level. Representation matters, and there’s not a lot of it. It’s the “you can’t be, what you can’t see” thing. The career in communications I moved to paid more, but I was acutely aware of my diversity. It’s hard to last when no one looks like you and you feel like you don’t belong.

It’s doubly hard to keep all the plates spinning. If you have three jobs so you can be financially stable, it’s difficult to invest the time, money and energy into the social media platforms that add up to your net talent worth. And that’s before you work out how to navigate inherent techphobia, discomfort, dysmorphia, lack of belonging and/or an intovert nature.

Let’s say you make it this far. Great work, well done.

The end

Now you need people in positions of power to notice you and your talents, and reward you. There is a lot of evidence to show that people promote people of their own ilk - meritocracy doesn’t work. In the glaring absence of people who look like you and understand inequity, the role of advocacy, positive action and allyship becomes crucial. Individuals from majority groups have to actively promote and champion people who wouldn’t seem the obvious choices.

A bit, perhaps, like the way the British Library invited me to run food writing courses (still going well four years later, Inshallah), or (BBC) Good Food asked me to be a podcast host with my thick set, unique brand of Indian/Welsh accent, or even how I got selected to be Non Exec Director (NED) at a leading food business from a list of more obvious candidates. I benefitted from this at many stages of my communications industry career and it was mostly the men you might describe as “pale, male and stale” who pushed me forward.

But this is also where things get tricky. Because these opportunities are still mostly handed out by the majority. Unconscious bias and a lack of familiarity kicks in, which can stymie appreciation and opportunity. There is much white washing that still goes on to make the work of diverse audiences more palatable to large, mainstream audiences (publishers are not charities, after all). Conversely, those using specialist ingredients and techniques can find it tough to make the mainstream.

The food writing world is also one full of tribes that you either belong in or not and rife with groupthink. The same talent and candidates keep appearing across shortlists and finalists, because no one wants to miss a slice of the hype pie. Less well-networked, known or trendy talents can find themselves without active champions.

Where diverse candidates exist, there are boxes for them that get quickly get ticked and then the room for fresh talent shrinks. Representatives from diverse communities being present for decision making, isn’t enough alone. They can hold back from piping up or find they have to shout louder to make the need for diversity heard. When they do, diversity can have a narrow definition based on lived experience and background. You also have to contend with applications that aren’t very diverse or badly written.

When these cycles repeat, it can create a self serving loop putting talent off entering the fray to start and then the movement for change stalls at the first hurdle - the very beginning. If there aren’t enough entries and entrants at the bottom, there are slim pickings at the top. Where does this leave people working to effect change? Feeling all the good stuff I mentioned in para 1!

The end is just the beginning

Working to improve diversity & inclusion needs what Lorraine Copes calls “emotional labour” and Ridhi Radia “mental energy”. As founder of Be Inclusive Hospitality and Head of Diversity at Immediate Media Company respectively, they know a thing or two. As do I. I’ve been Committee member for diversity at the Guild of Food Writers and have trained almost 900 people on food, culture and diversity in the food world and beyond. Is my job done yet? Not remotely. It’s taken centuries to get to this point. It’s going to take a while before a diversity team isn’t needed (if we ever get to that point).

People who see the ugly tip of the iceberg, don’t know about the many layers that are addressed underneath. The interventions staged, the issues averted, the people actively championed. When I started my role at the Guild, we had a flurry of new members who DMd me first to say they didn’t realise the organisation was for people like us. That’s the power of representation. It took a while, but they started posting more on our FB group, in the newsletter and organising and participating in events.

I’m not at it alone. There’s an able and passionate team of volunteers alongside me as special officers - all with day jobs, families. Making change happen takes daily emotional labour and mental energy. Shouting from the sidelines is necessary to make sure we keep doing the good work, but it is also free. Investing time, energy and emotion to drive change is not.

In fact, the term cultural taxation was coined to describe the opportunity cost of missed earnings from time spent unpaid addressing D&I. There is an argument asking why people from diverse backgrounds have to take the lead in making change happen. I would argue it’s because we have insider intel and can use it to benefit others. Besides, there are enough good people in food, drink, hospitality, media and publishing who want to be better. If I didn’t think and see that in action, I’d have been out of here a long time ago.

Making change happen

So, if these are the things that need to change, how does one make change happen? Here’s my thoughts, what are yours?

1. Fresh Talent: Believe you deserve a seat at the table. If you don’t, no one else will. Join the industry, be the change you want to be, apply for the awards and draft winning applications! I’ve seen many that make me want to weep, which is a travesty on many fronts. If the applications don’t exist or are substandard they won’t get anywhere

2. Existing talent: Be aware of groupthink and look beyond your tribes. Get stuck in as changemakers and tastemakers. Like Brexit and the European Union, its easier to drive change within dysfunctional organisations than from the sidelines

3. Organisations: Review your processes. They’re not working. You know my saying already! D&I is a spice not a seasoning. It needs to be built into your organisation not sprinkled on the top as an afterthought.

I lost my appetite last week. It’s slowly coming back. Time to bake and brew, not stew. I may not be winning any awards any time soon, but the work is not done here.