It was a typical exercise that plays out in conferences on workplace diversity.
A group of consultants, academics and managers from the public and private sectors were split into various teams last week, given five hypothetical candidates for kidney dialysis and asked to pick one.
In his group, Fred Lynch wondered whether the ambiguous characterization of one candidate meant the person was an immigrant. If so, should that not be a criterion in selection, perhaps a negative one, he asked.
Several in the group got upset with Lynch, who clearly was not being politically correct. A social worker from New York derided him for being anti-foreign.
It was no surprise, since Lynch was a wolf in pinstripe clothing at the National Multi Cultural Institute, which held a four-day gathering where the utility of a diverse workplace was a given–to virtually all except Lynch.
He’s a professor of government at Claremont McKenna College outside Los Angeles who has written extensively, and critically, about affirmative action. He’s now finishing a book critical of diversity management for a New York publishing house, Free Press, of conservative bent and run by Adam Bellow, son of Saul.
For sure, the business of diversity management is more than a business. It has turned into accepted ideology and a central element of how companies are run. Human resources departments (increasingly headed by women and minorities) are asked to be on the prowl for institutional forms of prejudice and to develop programs to make employees more sensitive to the cultural values and attitudes of others. Some firms even have executives whose job title is director, human resources diversity.
It is good to have a workplace–whether it’s a sales force or a newsroom–that reflects the community. Right?
“If I had a room filled with chief executive officers, I’d say, `Prove it,’ ” says Lynch. “Ask the Japanese and Germans. They don’t have diverse workforces. In a global market, you produce the products people want to buy. Do you want to be diverse, or do you want to be the best?”
Lynch simply does not buy a connection between diversity and either quality or profits. He’s not dogmatic, conceding when pressed that a newspaper newsroom claiming to cover a major metropolitan area might do well to have somebody who doesn’t need flash cards or a translator to communicate with members of the Hispanic or Asian communities, among others.
“Sure, it can be an edge to have a reporter who reflects the customer base,” he says in a rare concession. But he quickly warns about matching skin color of seller and buyer and thus “return to the old segregationist line that you had to have white sales people to sell to white customers.”
He warns about “pushing the idea into the public consciousness that Asians should sell to Asians and Hispanics to Hispanics. Diversity management, carried to extremes, leads to a tribalism of the marketplace.”
Generally, Lynch views diversity management as affirmative action by another name, though he has discerned changes in the movement.
In the late 1980s came what he derisively tags the “Hallelulah Stage,” in which some much-publicized private and government reports (notably the Labor Department’s “Glass Ceiling Initiative”) urged promotion of females and minorities.
That was followed by a stage in which the benefits of multiculturalism were praised and sought, with lots of in-house education programs and the rise of diversity consultants who might charge $3,000 for a one-day workshop to $200,000 for a total corporate overhaul.
Now comes a third stage, he says, marked by economic recession, a “revolt against political correctness and the coming of the angry white male.”
Indeed, with Americans feeling a growing economic anxiety, many have blamed affirmative action. They argue that preference programs are no longer needed and that they victimize the currently mythic “angry white male.”
The issue has also gained prominence due to a pending ballot initiative in California to remove such preferences. Affirmative-action bashing is a stock item for Republican presidential candidates, while President Clinton, long a defender of such programs, ordered a review of federal programs. His core political constituency wonders if he will stand tall on the issue.
Lynch sat quietly during much of last week’s gathering, whose stated goal was “Creating an Inclusive Society: Challenging Personal and Institutional Barriers.”
During a half-day workshop on how to deal with white males, he says, “practically nobody brought up the issue of reverse discrimination, though it is a primary reason for the discontent of white males. But consultants won’t bring it up. Instead, their thesis is that white males are afraid of change and a loss of power and status, and are thus afraid of increased competition from women and minorities.”
Where will this all wind up?
Lynch finds the diversity establishment straining to be more inclusive, less confrontational and less anti-white male, especially amid dwindling budgets for diversity projects and the changed political climate.
“I now look at this as a social-policy movement, and most movements have plateaus,” he says. “A lot of its future may depend on who gets the White House.”
A voice of reason
The summer issue of Forbes Media Critic, a good, generally right-leaning quarterly from Forbes magazine, has excellent pieces on whether public broadcasting is worth your money.
Notably, there’s a fine effort that argues that “The MacNeil/Lehrer NewsHour” not only “stands alone among the nightly newscasts in its commitment to depth and balance” but could survive without federal funds inasmuch as nearly half its $24 million budget already comes from Decatur-based Archer Daniels Midland Co. and New York Life Insurance Co.
And, notably, the piece is by ABC News White House correspondent Britt Hume.
On Friday, Hume said he routinely watches a network newscast or two each evening, then “MacNeil/Lehrer,” and is convinced it would do well as long as it didn’t alter its basic character.
That means not succumbing to a frequent network newscast malady, namely bringing in a new news director when ratings go down and doing “hand stands” to attract “people who aren’t watching, the people who don’t like news programs, anyway.”
Cokie watch
There may no longer be a need to take outrageous sums from special interests for speeches. Instead, become an agriculture journalist.
Dwayne Andreas, the boss of Archer Daniels Midland Co. who terms agriculture the “Siberia of journalism” in what may be an understatement, has quietly decided to fund a $100,000 yearly prize for the supposedly best agricultural journalist.
One more time: $100,000.
Andreas, who contends that American agriculture (translation: the need for continuing subsidies) is grossly misunderstood, wants a prestigious institution to oversee selection of the Ward Sinclair Award. Sinclair, who recently died, was a droll Washington Post farm writer whose work was far more sensitive to small farmers than big firms like ADM. He left journalism to become an organic farmer in Pennsylvania.
For low-paid newsies, the prize conjures heady visions of others following Andreas’ lead. Imagine General Motors, Microsoft, Boeing Aircraft and Midas Muffler doing likewise with journalists who cover them.
As the elite reporters here often prove, everybody has their price.
