EDI is meritocracy – why is that hard to understand?

Everywhere I turn lately, someone is blaming “wokeness” for their career not going the way they planned. At a forum I attended recently an adjunct academic said he could not get a steady job any more because he was a white man. “All the jobs go to minorities now,” he said. “I work harder. Meritocracy would reward that. I just want people hired because of who they are, not a label.”

Often, people use the word “merit” to defend their own identity and comfort, not to make a logical argument. We have heard this again and again in narratives over equity, diversity and inclusion (EDI) “gone mad”.  Without evidence or back-up, many let the word “meritocracy” speak for itself. And, unfortunately, it often does. That word still resonates with people who think it represents fairness. Even otherwise thoughtful colleagues begrudgingly agree.

However, this makes the assumption that inclusion measures are just about rewarding minority status, when the reality is about recognising different types of excellence. When someone says: “Hire someone for who they are, not an identity”, they misunderstand that EDI doesn’t reduce people to labels; it reveals the systemic biases that have long shaped who gets seen as “worthy” in our society and allows us to find talent in different forms.

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Some people may not change their mind on EDI (the abbreviation is DEI in the US), but if we are going to bring anyone with us, we have to be ready to talk through how its ideas are not the opposite of merit. They are essential to it. 

Here is how I like to explain it, using arguments often levelled against EDI efforts.

1. ‘Interviews are objective tests of merit. Changing them lowers standards’

Let’s start with a key part of the hiring process: the interview. A job interview is supposed to discern a candidate’s ability to do the job. Yet, how many of us work in an environment where we are grilled by three people at once and expected to give eloquent answers under pressure? Probably none. The panel format rewards confidence and cultural familiarity rather than competence.

So, if an autistic applicant, for example, or someone from a culture that values humility is given a work trial or the questions in advance, they have a chance to show what they are capable of. Inclusive interview adjustments are not about lowering standards. They make the process a more accurate way to assess candidates based on the skills required, not on their ability to perform.

The university benefits, too. For one, it is less likely to hire someone who talks well but cannot follow through. Inclusive interviews allow for re-entry of experts who have taken time for care or health leave. That sounds like merit to me.

2. ‘Student evaluations and publication metrics are fair measures of academic quality’

Universities love data. It makes decisions – about who is promoted or reappointed, for example – feel objective. But a lot of the data used is flawed.

Take student evaluations. Everyone gets bad reviews sometimes, but studies show that women, people of colour, queer staff and disabled lecturers are far more likely to receive abuse, threats or personal insults.

Yet, despite their bias, these evaluations are still used to determine an academic’s career progression or job security. They are presented as neutral, when in reality they reflect deep structural and cultural bias.

Then there is publishing, another metric that hides inbuilt inequities. To expand EDI to include all minorities in higher education, Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander academics were criticised for not publishing as much as non-Indigenous Australians, especially in the wake of Australia’s campaign to introduce the Voice, a proposed advisory board composed of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, to federal parliament. This ignored the fact that many of them were doing critical work such as advising parliament, caring for communities and emotionally supporting students through a national crisis. First Nations staff – already under-represented in the sector, according to 2024 Universities Australia figures – were building the university’s public impact and well-being.

I ask: why do we value a paper behind a paywall more than other services and knowledge provided by minority groups? Is that the only way to contribute to higher education, and the only kind of contribution we wish to reward? 

3. ‘Accommodations give an unfair advantage’

Some academics hide their identity or go without support to be seen as “deserving” of success. This subtle pressure, to avoid the impression of having received favourable treatment based on race, gender or disability, however, also deprives the sector of understanding the benefits that diversity brings.

EDI is often assumed to correspond with under-qualified, when that is anything but the truth. Rufus Black, vice-chancellor at the University of Tasmania, for example, has spoken about how dyslexia gives him a different way of thinking. Paul Harpur, who is blind, leads disability inclusion projects that are reshaping research across Australia. Their diversity doesn’t undermine their contribution; it strengthens it.

Sometimes tapping into someone’s expertise might mean using an audio version, typing out a few extra sentences for an image description or allowing a different way of presenting ideas. That is not lowering the bar. It is opening the door to excellence.

Higher education is filled with people of all races, genders, sexualities, faiths and disability experiences. Many are working without the right support and still delivering outcomes that benefit the entire sector. Imagine what more they could do if systems were built with them in mind.

4. ‘We should reward people based on their merit, not identity’

Correct! That is what EDI is all about.

The way we define merit is not neutral. It is shaped by what we value, what we reward and who gets seen. Interviews, student surveys and publishing metrics are not free from bias. They reflect who the system was designed for.

Equity and inclusion are not about special treatment. They are about asking better questions. What does this person bring to the table? How do we expect excellence to look? How do we create conditions where talent can emerge in many forms?

To echo University of Sydney vice-chancellor Mark Scott: “Talent is equally distributed, but opportunity is not.” Considering how this works within our practice is imperative: if we only reward those who fit a narrow idea of “good employees”, we miss out on people who can think differently, lead authentically and bring communities with them. 

Not questioning our systems and ideas of meritocracy is not neutral. It hurts individuals, teams, students and the organisation’s impact. And it is bad business. None of that sounds like merit to me.

Brooke Szücs is a research assistant in the TC Beirne School of Law and project officer for the UQ Disability Inclusion Advocacy Network at the University of Queensland.