Jinan Younis

Will AI create even more out-of-touch businesses?

This article originally featured in MediaCat Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Right now the AI scene is buzzing with potential

Businesses are aggressively racing to incorporate AI into their operations, heralding a new era of efficiency. But with this relentless pursuit of innovation comes the risk of staying connected to what matters most: the people. Open AI has just unveiled its latest development, Sora — a text-to-hyper-realistic video tool. This tool can create real-time videos from text prompts with an unparalleled level of realism. While many celebrate this long-awaited development of AI, many are also mourning the ‘death’ of something else — trust. The dark underside of innovative AI erodes trust in the life behind the art. Take the rise of AI influencers on social media, for example. These pixel-perfect, algorithmically generated personalities are raking in cash for brands, with no sleep or coffee breaks needed. Meanwhile, real-life influencers are left competing against tireless, ever-perfect virtual counterparts.

There’s a term I recently discovered, FOBO: fear of becoming obsolete

With AI technology on the rise staff are increasingly worried about their roles becoming obsolete. This fear is of the very practical loss of a role (most likely of someone already from a marginalised community, as studies show) and a wider fear of being left behind. The mass adoption of AI requires a level of digital literacy and agility that promises success to those quick to adopt, and threatens to leave behind those who might struggle to keep up with the pace of change. Implementing AI across a business is actually less about the technology itself and more about the approach and strategy behind the use of AI.

Is AI being developed to rid people of their jobs, or to enhance their day-to-day work and open up space for innovative thinking? Are we designing AI tools to dismantle bias and mitigate harm, or is the pace of development glossing over key ethical questions? Are we leveraging AI tools to uplift marginalised groups in the workplace, or are we pushing people out? And crucially, are we equipping our teams with the skills to navigate this new AI-enhanced landscape, or are we leaving them in the dark? The acute need for a Diversity, Equity and Inclusion lens across all AI strategies is missing in many conversations around AI, even in the ethical AI space. DEI must be a foundational principle to embed AI systems that put people first and to help build trust that AI can benefit all. Applying a DEI lens means prioritising equity, fairness and inclusivity from the get-go.

It means centring marginalised communities in AI’s design and deployment, tailoring training programs to ensure all employees can upskill in AI, and committing to equitable outcomes through AI usage, even if it means taking a hit to the bottom line. In the world of AI video and influencer marketing that’s not likely to mean removing AI video and influencers altogether. But it might mean ensuring rigorous control over potentially harmful content created by these tools. It could mean working with minority-led businesses to shape marketing strategies or ring-fencing budgets to commit to working with human influencers and creative strategists.

Embracing bold technologies demands equally bold strategies

With AI development outpacing regulatory frameworks, businesses must take the lead in crafting people-centred AI strategies that leave no one behind. AI has the potential to be the ultimate leveller, democratising access to information and resources, automating routine tasks and opening room for innovation. AI can become a pivotal force for equality when anchored with a commitment to fair outcomes.

But realising this promise depends on businesses’ collective commitment to addressing not just the technological possibilities, but the human implications, so that they don’t lose sight of what truly matters in their quest for relevance.

The DEI Data Deficit is Fuelling the Pensions Gap

Swathes of the population who are already facing financial exclusion are not even on the radar of pension schemes, as new research has found that more than one in three pension schemes don’t collect any diversity data on their members at all. And the ones that do often only scratch the surface, tracking just age and gender.

This is not just a logistical hurdle; it’s a symbol of a deep, systemic issue that fuels the cycle of economic inequality.

The Pensions Gap throws a spotlight on how marginalised groups have been missing out on their chance for a secure retirement. Only a quarter of ethnic minority individuals have a workplace pension, compared to 38% nationally, and for those that do have a pension pot, it’s less than half the size of an average white British person. Disabled? Your pension pot might be just over a third of the average. And though we’re chipping away at the gender pension gap, it’s still at 37.9%. That means women are ending up with disproportionately lower retirement incomes than men.

Retirement has become a “privilege”, as one respondent to a study stated. It’s particularly tough for marginalised communities, who often already face financial exclusion through lower-paid jobs, unpaid labour and unemployment. The result? Financial instability, and poor physical and mental wellbeing when they retire, at best. Outright poverty at worst.

When pension schemes don’t track the diversity data of their members, they’re entrentching the economic divide. Without knowing who their members are, and importantly, who is falling through the net, pension schemes can’t create tailored products or provide specialised education that could help bridge the wealth gap.

Part of the issue is a lack of engagement of minoritised groups. Studies have shown that over a quarter of those from minority ethnic communities see pension schemes risky and in fact turn to religious institutions to provide financial guidance. Pension schemes need to step up and build trust by really getting to know their members, and fill in the gaps – something shockingly few are doing right now. But collecting data is just step one. It’s on the pension schemes to then take some action.

They can start rebuilding trust by providing financial education in multilingual resources, developing targeted education programmes and tailored pension products. They should also think out-of-the-box, like partnering with NGOs or religious institutions to offer resoures via trusted places. Similarly, they could leverage Diversity, Equity and Inclusion champions in workplaces to hand out financial advice in a way that really speaks to people.

With FCA regulations just around the corner, pension funds are at a crossroads. See this as a tick-box exercise or take this as a chance to win back trust from minority groups and make steps to close the wealth gap.

This is a pivotal moment for the industry. It’s more than just compliance; it’s about stepping up as leaders. Pension schemes have the power to reshape norms, push inclusivity front and centre, and disrupt the cycle of economic inequality. By smartly harnessing data for bold action, pension schemes can lead the charge towards a fairer financial future. After all, a secure retirement isn’t a privilege – it’s a right everyone deserves.

Is TFL naming Overground lines a good idea or not?

This article originally appeared in MediaCat Magazine. You can read the original article here.

With the Mayor of London’s tweet this morning that, for the first time ever, the six Overground lines are getting a name and colour; we decided to ask some marketers what they thought about Transport for London’s branding exercise. Are these historically inspired names a good idea?

Jinan Younis — award-winning diversity, equity and inclusion specialist

A renamed Overground line will likely cause rolled eyes more than celebration. A ‘windrush’ line just reminds us that many victims of the Windrush scandal are still waiting for justice from the government and have no access to legal aid to challenge compensation decisions. A suffragette line only highlights that more than 1,500 officers in UK’s own police force were accused of violence against women and girls in a six-month period. The Mildmay line celebrates the work of Mildmay Hospital for the LGBTQ+ community; while hate crimes against transgender people have hit a record high in England and Wales. Instead of spending £6m on renaming the Overground, people will be more excited to see their trains run regularly due to TfL workers getting a fair wage, victims of the Windrush scandal being adequately compensated, and investment in services that tackle violence against women and the trans community.

The branding of Overground lines to celebrate the diversity of London’s history is a nice add-on, a nod to cultural diversity amidst growing polarisation. But to many, it will feel like a glossy plaster over an ugly undercurrent of injustice.

Kev Chesters — trainer, speaker, lecturer, and co-author of The Creative Nudge

Humans don’t like change so no doubt this’ll unleash the usual torrent of bleating; mostly from types who tend to use the word ‘woke’ a lot in sentences without being able to define what it means. Naming things is rather useful, from a science perspective. It helps with everything from recall to resonance, and everything in between. It’s nice to see some right and proper things get recognition in the names, too. There are probably bigger and better things to worry about. Go for it. And I suspect it’ll annoy all the right people. So that’s a bonus.

Annalisa Roy — Fractional CMO at Axel’s Elixir and Brand Strategy Lead Consultant at Speedo

Naming is a powerful marketing tool, a meaningfully named brand has the power to inspire beyond its immediate definition. In naming these lines Sadiq is purposefully building pieces of London’s identity.

A city that celebrates diversity, respects minorities, supports charitable initiatives and recognises the importance of craftsmanship as an industry. In a nutshell: a liberal, accepting and creative city. Sounds a lot like Sadiq’s mayoral campaign, doesn’t it?

Fadi Dada — Strategy Director at Anomaly

I appreciate the intention behind this project. Creating distinct Overground lines is long overdue. I use the Overground every day and still find it perplexing and confusing. But couldn’t the new lines be named in a way that is more accessible to non-English speakers and visitors in London? Or in a way that provides people with a clearer sense of the direction they are travelling? The new names pay homage to history deserving of greater veneration… so no complaints there. But more consideration could have been given to how the new names will interact with the real world. What happens when TfL need to announce:

Overcrowding on the Windrush line
An incident on the Suffragette line
A severe fault on the Lioness line

And will people really say ‘Just hopping on the Windrush, see you soon’?

I can’t help but feel that PR has been prioritised over accessibility, clarity and way-finding.

Jenny Zhang — Strategy Director at CALLING

It strengthens the connection between people and the places they share. TfL is a common ground for all; it’s a cross-section of society that represents London.

In order to preserve and nourish what makes London unique, we need to do this to avoid becoming another soulless metropolis in an ever more digitised world.

AI can support brands to better embed DEI, but it’s not enough

This article originally featured in MediaCat magazine. You can read the article here.

2024 offers the promise of new and improved AI…

One that tackles the longstanding DEI challenges such as inherent racism in AI, faulty or non-corroborated information, or the lack of good quality data that can allow AI to be effective. But the challenges facing DEI aren’t tech ones, they’re human ones. Rooted in poor decision-making, lack of leadership prioritisation of DEI, and pervasive non-inclusive cultures.

We can see this most clearly in some of the biggest advertising controversies of the last few years. We have seen several ad campaigns that hark back to the days of Kendall Jenner’s 2017 Pepsi advert, which featured Kendall Jenner handing a can of Pepsi to a police officer amidst a faux protest, leading to outrage amongst the public for trivialising the Black Lives Matter movement. We’ve seen Balenciaga under scrutiny for its frankly odd ad campaign featuring children holding teddies dressed in bondage wear. We’ve seen Levi try to use AI to generate models with diverse body types to ‘supplement human models’, rather than taking the time to source and pay for real-life models with diverse body types. And most recently, we saw clothing retailer Zara come under fire for its ad campaign that evoked war destruction, released amidst real-life destruction in Gaza.

Often when we think of DEI, we think of the traditional areas of representation and recruitment, areas where there could be a quick tech fix to help make the process of sourcing (or generating) the right people in front of the camera easier, or creating blind CVs to remove bias from hiring processes. But DEI in this space is much more nuanced than that. It’s about the power brands and media have to either perpetuate stereotypes, or break them down. It’s about who’s behind the camera as much as who’s in front of it. And the intention behind this work is just as important as the outcomes. Brands receive backlash not because of their approach to AI, but because they are perceived as lazy, tokenistic, or inconsiderate in their approach.

There is a human element of DEI that AI can’t replace

AI can only be as good as the people in the room who can leverage it. If that team doesn’t have an adequate understanding of how their work may be perceived or what stereotypes they may be leaning into, if they don’t have the right people in the room or the right culture to enable challenge, then they will always risk having their brands tarnished. Building inclusive decision-making or embedding culture change won’t be an AI job. Neither will AI build a comprehensive DEI strategy that’s tailored to the company’s needs and integrated into the business vision. And while AI can support building the content, it won’t lead inclusive education across a company, or build DEI champions in leaders.

Where I see AI having the most impact is via its supportive function to existing DEI strategies and initiatives, and in its ability to expand the scope of DEI possibility. This is where I see some of the most exciting AI work in DEI taking place.

For example, AI has the potential to transform the workplace for disabled workers. Tools that enhance accessibility through assistive technology such as speech transcription, note taking, and scheduling or tools such as Microsoft’s Seeing AI app (which supports the visually impaired by describing their surroundings and individual facial expressions) are all paving the way for a more equitable workplace for disabled workers. There is, of course, a long way to go to ensure these AI systems are themselves free from bias, but it’s a clear step in the right direction towards making more accessible workplaces.

Another fascinating area is how AI is being used to transform inclusive recruitment. The biggest issue I see in recruitment is that companies don’t have a strong enough candidate pool. That’s why I think an exciting opportunity lies in using AI to expand the pool of candidates and widen the scope and demographic of candidates applying. Similarly, the lack of comprehensive data limits companies’ understanding of their hiring practices. AI can support tracking the influx of data to help teams assess the diversity of the recruitment pool, as well as retention of the candidates they hire.

However, there are still important questions to grapple with when it comes to AI use in reviewing applications, particularly around removing characteristics such as gender and age on applications, which may not allow employers to take into account historical disadvantage in candidates.

Finally, AI can support some of the more difficult, nuanced areas of DEI language. DEI language is constantly evolving, and it has led to a sense of fear amongst leaders who wish to write about DEI topics but are fearful of using the wrong terminology and facing backlash. As a result, they remain silent, which inadvertently creates more backlash. Sophisticated inclusive language tools can leverage AI to provide the most up-to-date feedback and nuanced alternatives for inclusive language and communications. These tools can equip leaders and communicators with the confidence to write about DEI topics, ensuring they are using language that is forged by the communities themselves.

When I think about the backlash in adverts at the beginning of this article, I struggle to see how the most effective DEI AI tools could have helped. Sure, an AI recruitment tool could have helped to bring people into the room, and an inclusive language tool could have helped them to reword their campaign, but would it have stopped those decisions that took the campaigns to market?

Would it have opened up the room for people to challenge decision-makers? Would it have shifted the culture to one where the team understands their power as advertisers to perpetuate or break down stereotypes?

I don’t think it can — or should — fall solely on AI. AI can play a hugely supportive role in embedding effective and impactful DEI across companies. But without the right culture, understanding, and leader prioritisation of DEI, it won’t get far. AI can help build more equitable workplaces — but it can’t do it alone.

Allyship isn’t about ‘making friends’

This article originally featured in MediaCat Magazine. You can take a read of the original article here.

The theme of International Women’s Day this year was ‘Embracing Equity’

Rightly so, many companies took this opportunity to unpack how allyship can support the journey to equity. Allyship is when someone from a non-marginalised group uses their privilege to advocate for and support those from a marginalised group. But while there has been increasing focus on the role of allies to support greater inclusion and equity in the workplace, sometimes this falls short of what it actually means to be an active advocate for under-represented groups.

The conversation around allyship is continually evolving. However, I have noticed in some conversations, there isn’t a clear understanding of how allyship should support structural change within an organisation. The discussion turns to more generic statements such as ‘it’s about making friends’ or ‘it’s being human’. Here, allyship has been sold to companies as ‘low hanging fruit’, an easy, light touch way to say your company is supporting under-represented groups. But, without an active strategy behind allyship and a clear understanding of how allyship leads to change within an organisation, it risks becoming performative.

Performative allyship is light touch actions that reflect very well on the ‘allies’, but do little to move the dial on the experiences of the under-represented groups in the workplace. This might look like a one-sided reverse mentoring programme, where a senior leader learns about what it means to be part of a marginalised group, but that reverse mentor experiences no benefit in their career, progression or experience of the workplace. It might look like an ally taking to social media to profess their outrage at a particular event without interrogating how those same systems are replicated in their workplace. In essence, performative allyship is displaying tokenistic support to marginalised groups without interrogating the systems that have generated inequality and their personal role in upholding those systems.

I think allyship in the workplace means three things.

One, it means acknowledging privilege and listening to the needs of marginalised groups
Two, it’s about being an active advocate and opening up space for difficult conversations, even when it doesn’t benefit you
And three, it’s about being ready to redistribute power. That means, opening up your wallets, reviewing who’s at the decision making table, and who has access to influential spaces

In practice, allyship in the workplace is about removing systemic barriers faced by under-represented groups. Organisations need to ask themselves: what are we using allyship for in the workplace? What systems are we trying to challenge? Which groups are we trying to elevate? How will our allies actually work towards actively embedding equity in our workplace?

This could look like being an Executive Sponsor of an ERG, advocating for the building of a new careers initiative, or rallying the Senior Leadership Team to begin collecting socio-economic diversity pay gap data. It could be opening doors for under-represented groups to attend the panel events, round tables, dinners and conferences. Or it could be ensuring there are routes for decision-making power for marginalised groups, such as having a rotating seat for an ERG Lead in a DE&I Board. Ultimately, successful and active allyship will be rooted in the DE&I goals of the organisation and will help remove barriers to entry, progression and inclusion for marginalised groups.Senior Leaders can set the bar for the types of conversations, initiatives and programmes they want to see to embed equity in the workplace. This is why it’s so important that Senior Leaders understand their personal connection to allyship and what their role as an Ally in the workplace could look like. To encourage leaders to become Allies, they first need to carve out learning and development time for this on their packed agendas, so they can explore what allyship means to them. They need to build a personal connection to allyship and interrogate how privilege shows up in their lives.

We also need to find ways for Senior Leaders to learn about the experiences of marginalised groups without this coming at the expense of extracting marginalised groups’ — often painful — personal experiences. Expert external facilitation is usually required here to ensure that the sharing of experiences and ideas is working towards a mutually beneficial relationship.

The final way to encourage allyship in Senior Leaders is by showcasing to them how the actions they take and the support they provide will actively shift the dial on inequality in their workplace. Here, allyship would be intimately tied to the DE&I goals of the organisation.

People are tired of performative allyship, and they can sense it from a mile off. Posting a black square, or changing your company logo to a rainbow in Pride month just isn’t going to cut it anymore. Allyship, when done well, shouldn’t be easy. It’s about working towards structural change in the workplace, using your privilege to advocate for others, even when it doesn’t benefit you, and it often means having challenging and difficult conversations.

What is true, though, is that when done well, allyship is incredibly rewarding. It has the power to actively change the structures that create inequality in the workplace and change the company culture. It can fundamentally shift the type of talent that walks through a company’s doors and it can increase the sense of inclusion and belonging amongst marginalised staff. Allyship is not a passive role that just entails befriending some people that don’t look like you, it’s intentional, active advocacy for marginalised groups.

Why companies must continue to engage with DEI in 2023

This article originally featured in MediaCat Magazine. You can read the original article here.

Since the beginning of my career, thinking about diversity, equity and inclusion wasn’t a luxury side quest — it was my everyday experience. For me, Diversity, Equity and Inclusion has never been a nice-to-have, it’s been an absolute imperative.

As we enter a challenging 2023, with increasing rates of inflation, a deepening energy crisis and the threat of an impending recession, businesses will be asking themselves where they can cut back on budgets. Diversity, Equity and Inclusion cannot be an area where companies cut back on. Here’s why:

It’s counter-intuitive

It has been well documented that Diversity, Equity and Inclusion is more than a ‘nice-to-have’, it’s imperative for business growth. More diverse companies have proven to have better financial performance and deliver increased value for their shareholders. McKinsey’s 2019 analysis found that companies with the highest gender diversity were 25 percent more likely to have higher profitability. Similarly, companies with the highest ethnic and cultural diversity outperformed those with the lowest by 36 percent.

If DEI directly leads to business growth, it would be counter-intuitive for companies to stop or slow down the rate of investment in DEI. In fact, investing in DEI is the very thing that can build company resilience in the face of tough times. Companies with diverse leaders in decision making rooms will lead to new solutions to pressing problems.

This is complex stuff

Disadvantage, racism and oppression cannot be neatly boxed away into a DEI initiative — they are the lived experience of millions of people around the world.

It’s clear that companies can no longer stay silent as political events threaten the rights of their staff.

Earlier this year, LGBTQ+ workers at Disney staged a walk-out in protest of the corporation’s response to the Don’t Say Gay Bill. The impact of this should not be taken lightly. CEO Bob Chapek publicly condemned the bill and paused political donations in the state, which resulted in Disney being stripped of its special tax status in Florida. He also apologised to Disney staff for his initial silence, and has committed to conducting a global listening tour and establishing an LGBTQ+ taskforce to ensure that Disney is a force for good for LGBTQ+ staff and communities.

Companies are beginning to understand their responsibility to respond to worldwide political events.

This pressure will intensify as a new generation of workers demand a duty of care from their employers amidst uncertain political backdrops which directly influence their lives. We can see this clearly in the example of Disney. We can also see this in the swathe of companies ranging from Nike to Microsoft to Amazon responding to the reversal of Roe V Wade which made access to abortion illegal across a number of states in the US.

Standing with your employees and with historically marginalised people is not always easy work. It requires a commitment and a willingness to sacrifice the things that do not benefit a company’s staff or its consumers. As we move into increasingly complex political times, now is the time to build consistent frameworks that embed DEI principles into the heart of businesses so that they can adequately respond to challenging external events.

We’re not there yet

While we should celebrate the successes we have made, we must not get complacent. The Covid pandemic was a stark reminder that progress is by no means linear. Women’s jobs were 1.8 times more vulnerable to the crisis than men’s jobs, and though women made up 39 percent of the workforce, they accounted for 54 percent of overall job losses.

The road to embedding genuine equity in an organisation is long, winding and tough. In the five years that UK companies have had to disclose their gender pay gaps, there has been minimal change. While some companies such as NatWest bank have disclosed their Ethnicity pay gaps, only 64 organisations in the UK disclosed their ethnicity pay gaps in 2021 (down from 129 in 2020). Companies are also beginning to interrogate how they track and disclose their socio-economic diversity gap, with companies such as KPMG and PwC pioneering this voluntary reporting. Yet very few organisations have begun to truly interrogate how to collect, measure and track their socio-economic diversity data.

Diversity, Equity and Inclusion therefore requires constant review, reflection and iteration. Any commitment to DEI must understand the long term nature of achieving systems change, and this requires consistent attention, budgets and senior level support.

Avoid burn-out

Employee Resource Groups are one of the most valuable assets a company can have. They help build staff engagement, drive culture change, and hold senior leadership to account. However, underinvestment and overreliance on ERGs to run a company’s DEI programme will lead to fatigue and burnout. While companies such as LinkedIn have committed to financially compensating their ERG leads $10,000 for each year served, a survey by The Rise Journey found that only 5.6% of surveyed organisations are currently paying their ERG leads.

As we move into 2023, companies need effective ERG Networks and must continually invest in their ERG Leads and members. This will lead to high engagement and retention, and long term culture change.

In sickness and in health

Consumers are increasingly sceptical of companies’ ad hoc DEI commitments and activities. Purpose Union’s Purpose Pulse Report outlined that 68% of gen z and millennials surveyed say companies promoting their diversity and inclusion efforts is integral to building trust. This trust is built through consistency. Ice Cream company Ben and Jerry’s started its racial equity journey back in 2016. From then, they have continually engaged with efforts to embed anti-racism across their company and in wider society. Each year they cement their genuine and authentic efforts to create a more inclusive world.

Companies have made serious pledges and commitments to tackle DEI, and they have a responsibility to their staff, their investors and their wider stakeholders to uphold those commitments. To do this, they must continually engage with DEI, in sickness and in health.

Companies should view the challenging year ahead as their opportunity to showcase to their staff, investors and customers that their commitment to DEI extends beyond warm words and ad hoc initiatives into long term, strategic change.

In 2023, DEI must sit at the top of the corporate agenda.

A new force is taking up the mantle of advocating for worker’s rights

This article originally featured in CityAM. You can read the original article here.

Companies are in the firing line for the way they treat their workers. The latest in the long list of companies who are experiencing the sharp end of worker anger is gaming giant Activision Blizzard whose workers are staging a virtual walkout in protest of the lifting of the vaccine mandate, which workers claim creates an unsafe environment for immunocompromised staff. Elsewhere in the US, Disney is facing backlash from its LGBTQ+ employees and allies for its mishandling of Florida’s controversial “Don’t Say, Gay Bill”.

Here in the UK, P&O Ferries has been in the firing line after 800 employees were sacked over Zoom.

Traditionally, these disputes are the bread and butter of Trade Unions. But as many speculate whether their time in the sun has come to an end, there is another force taking up the mantle of agitating for workers’ rights: Employee Resource Groups.

While the acronym ERG evokes a bygone era of the European Research Group, these groups were originally set up in companies to provide education, awareness, community for staff from traditionally marginalised backgrounds. Examples of typical ERG work are events to celebrate diverse cultures, celebrations of religious festivals, or a company celebrating its LGBTQ+ colleagues through a Pride event.

Over the past over two years, however, we have seen the increasing politicisation of ERGs.

The racial reckoning that came with the death of George Floyd in the US in 2020 forced companies into the spotlight. They were being held to account by their employees to look after their black staff, make a stand against racism, and commit to an anti-racist agenda. It was now that ERGs took on a different meaning. They were the saving grace for many companies that were able to point to a cultural group that had little decision making power, but at least they showcased diversity within the company. ERGs had the power to shift a company’s image from being silent to being “anti-racist”.

Now ERGs are harnessing that power.

Members of ERGs have been self-organising to become ingrained structures within organisations – backed by senior management, demanding adequate budget, and, sometimes, but rarely, taking up paid positions to lead the ERG. When companies work with ERGs authentically, they build the potential for a truly inclusive organisation that values diversity and creates routes for its marginalised staff to have genuine decision-making power.

At Unilever, the ice cream brand Ben and Jerry’s has turned heads by creating their own in-house activist team with a multi-million dollar budget; they have built their brand on being a business which doesn’t shy away from politics. Elsewhere, Global Pharmaceutical Sanofi has launched the first of its kind in healthcare global Diversity Equity Inclusion board which includes a rotating membership from the ERG leads; NatWest bank provided resources, headcount and organisational heft to its race and ethnicity ERG to create the Racial Equality Taskforce subgroup which was able to create the groundbreaking ‘Banking For Racial Equality Report’. Here, companies have accepted what ERGs can offer, and given them financial backing, senior support and routes for marginalised staff to have genuine decision making-power.

Some companies, however, are using the existence of ERGs within their organisations to excuse slap-dash and tokenistic PR stunts of inclusivity. These ERG groups are taking their lead from trade unions – it was the power behind the LGBTQ+ ERG which organised the walkout at Disney. They won’t accept businesses using them as a badge of honour unless they follow through; they are now political spaces advocating for the most marginalised.

When companies work hand-in-hand with unions, it’s beneficial for both of them. The same is true of ERGs – they are working to improve the conditions for staff and ensure diversity and inclusion schemes are at the heart of the businesses they work with. If it dissolves into a head-to-head between corporate leaders and ERGs, it will antagonise workers and waste precious resources – both in time and money.

The battle for safer streets is not zero sum: let’s safeguard women and fight racial stereotyping

This article originally featured in The Guardian. You can read the original article here.

Over the past month, it’s felt like every day has brought a grim reminder of the dangers faced by women on our streets and in our homes. The inquest into the murder of the Epsom college headteacher, Emma Pattison, and her daughter; the conviction of the murderer of the charity worker Elizabeth McCann; the arguments over the release of Joanna Simpson’s killer; the life sentence awaiting the boyfriend of Elinor O’Brien, who stabbed her in a “rageful and violent attack”; the conviction of the serial rapist police officer David Carrick; and the murder of 16-year-old Brianna Ghey. And it’s two years since the disappearance of Sarah Everard, murdered after being stopped on her way home by the rogue police officer Wayne Couzens (affectionately known by his colleagues as “the rapist”).

Against the backdrop of these horrific headlines, I have been having more and more conversations with women about how they feel unsafe in the streets. We’ve exchanged stories of being followed and catcalled, of sharing Uber rides with each other and making sure we text when we’re home safe. We’ve lamented the increased risk of attack that trans women face, and how Black and minority ethnic women face the threat of both racism and misogyny. We’ve discussed the 800 Met police officers under investigation for domestic and sexual abuse, and what it means for women’s trust in the police – though that’s a privilege many women of colour have never had.

But in my recent conversations with some women about their feelings of safety, I have noticed underlying coded messages. They say things like “it’s a dodgy area”; that they “wouldn’t want to be alone around there”. They say they are scared of men in hoodies.

Some forego any pretence. One woman said to me: “I probably do find Black men in hoodies more scary.” Others admit they quicken their pace when they see a Black man walking down the street.

When women talk in general terms of “dodgy” areas or that some “types” of men feel scary, often a lightly masked stereotype has informed that fear. Studies have shown time and again that images of Black men were seen as larger, more threatening and potentially more harmful in an altercation than a white person. Being scared of certain areas where there are more of the “types” of men perceived as scary, then, becomes code for being more scared of Black and minority-ethnic men in public. When I’ve challenged these women, they protest: “It’s just the crime statistics!”, without acknowledging that behind these statistics lie stories of police harassment, ethnic profiling and racial criminalisation.

Studies have tried to get to the bottom of this. One, in 2014, questioned a group of women about their fear in public spaces and reported: “Racist comments came up in the discussion: although the young women acknowledged they were stereotypes, they conditioned their feelings anyway.” A study last year examined views of Australian women on street harassment and spoke of “some participants saying they felt unsafe or perceived behaviour as threatening because the person was ‘not like them’.”

I find that the women who speak to me in problematic terms are usually those who have either not spent much time in areas with a high minority-ethnic population, or are part of the gentrification of poorer neighbourhoods and are living side by side with different racial groups for the first time. These women would typically pride themselves on being “anti-racist” – they may even have joined the mass global outrage over police brutality against Black men and women in 2020. They may have dipped into an anti-racism reading list. Yet it seems they haven’t truly interrogated how racial bias has seeped into the way they perceive their own safety.

This racial stereotyping can lead to a very real feeling of fear and vulnerability in women. Because that feeling is so real, women find it hard when challenged to unpack what biases have informed that fear. There’s a sense of outrage that anyone would question a woman who says she feels unsafe. Yet I am not challenging the fact women feel unsafe in the streets. I am simply asking for women to look at how their prejudices may inform who they are fearful of and why.

There are consequences to making lazy generalisations about “areas” that seem scary, or the “types” of men who inhabit them. It’s part of the same stereotyping that leads to the violent overpolicing of Black men. The Metropolitan police, for example, are four times more likely to use force against Black people, because officers perceive them as “more threatening and aggressive”.

The impact of this coded fear of certain “types” of men in certain “areas” is clear: increased policing of these communities. That means more surveillance, more targeting and more racial profiling of groups who are already treated with greater suspicion and violence than their white counterparts. If the headlines have shown us anything, it’s that women’s fear shouldn’t be relegated to a specific type of person; that anyone is capable of violence towards women, from teachers to police officers to intimate partners.

The goal of women’s safety does not lie in racial stereotypes. We should instead direct our concern towards a culture of toxic masculinity that has seeped its way into every corner of society. It shows up as misogyny in our institutions, in our workplaces and in our schools. It can be seen in the normalisation of violence against women in our popular culture. It is rooted in rigid concepts of gender and “manhood” and is supported by a system that routinely fails to believe women, and that blames and intimidates them.

Everyone should be able to feel they can walk down the street without fearing attack, assault or humiliation. So when we tackle the very real issue of women’s safety, we have to avoid actions that make the streets more dangerous for others.

This is not a zero-sum problem: we can fight for women’s safety in the streets and avoid playing into racial stereotypes. To have a coherent, intersectional approach to women’s safety, we have to work towards building streets that are safer for all vulnerable groups.

We need compulsory sex education in primary schools to tackle child-on-child abuse

Prudishness is harming our children.

This article was originally featured in The New Statesman. You can read the original article here.

Last night, a harrowing BBC Panorama documentary revealed the scale of child-on-child abuse in the UK. It was a powerful reminder of the importance of something we still shy away from: the need to make sex and consent education compulsory in primary schools.

The prevalence of the problem is horrifying – there have been almost 30,000 reports of child-on-child sexual abuse since 2013, 2,625 of which took place on school premises. And things are getting worse. There was a 71 per cent increase in reports of “peer on peer” abuse between 2013 and 2016.

The individual examples are particularly distressing. Panorama told the story of Emily (a pseudonym), who was assaulted at the age of 15 during a class at school without her teacher noticing. Then there was the case of the six-year-old girl abused by her classmates – the child and mother would sit in their living room with the curtains shut, unable to stop the boys from cycling outside their house.

This abhorrent lack of protection is a responsibility that lies on many shoulders – the school, the police, the local authority and the social services – and the documentary exposes a lack of process around dealing with abuse in young children committed by other young children.

The growth in cases may be driven by the rise of social media and a greater exposure to technology, but the fact is that our curriculum is simply not keeping up.

In March 2017, the government agreed to introduce “relationships and sex education” in all secondary schools and bring “relationships education” into primary schools. While primary schools will emphasise safe and healthy relationships, secondary school SRE lessons will focus on healthy relationships, pornography, sexting and consent. While primary schools can choose to teach sex education in an age-appropriate way, they are also allowed to withdraw from it.

These measures aren’t enough. Children in primary school should be entitled to good quality relationship and sex education, exploring areas such as consent, control and choice. The treatment of the six-year-old girl, who had been sexually assaulted by her classmates for over a month, shows the necessity of giving children the concepts and the language to understand and describe their experiences.

Rather than attempting to ban pornography, we need to focus on teaching children what consent means in the digital age – and we need to start young. When we neglect children at this age, we’re laying down the framework for how they should expect to be treated in the rest of their lives; abused, ignored and neglected.

Not only do children need sex and relationship education, but teachers in primary school also need adequate training in how to respond to incidents like this, and to review their own child protection procedures. It’s incredibly dangerous to fail children at such a young age, and we need to ensure that enough resources are being funnelled into education around this area, both for children and for teachers.

We need to foster a culture that encourages children to find the language to assert their boundaries, both to adults and to their peers. We need to foster a culture that listens to children and believes them, and we need the adequate processes in place that will look after those who do come forward.

It’s time to stop being prudish and worrying about protecting our children’s “innocence” and start looking at their experiences. Whether we like it or not, that innocence is being snatched from them daily across the UK, and our lack of sex education means we can’t protect them.

Embedding racial equity in the workplace

I work closely with large multinationals to help them to meaningfully engage with equity. This often boils down to a question about power. Who has power, and who doesn’t? Who has genuine routes to decision making? Who has the access to relay the stories about themselves? Who has the luxury of time, space and funds for creativity?

When we’re talking about racial equity, we’re talking about redistributing power in a sector where a select few people have been afforded the equal opportunity to forge their own paths.

Our professions don’t exist in a vacuum. They are heavily impacted by world events. We know, for example, that Covid-19 disproportionately impacted the ethnic minority population. We know that health inequity means that Black women are 4 times more likely to die in pregnancy or childbirth. We know that the cost of living crisis, while impacting many people across the UK, is hitting ethnic minority groups the hardest.

It’s in this context that we need to understand racial inequities in the workplace. Breaking the glass ceiling is only going to go so far if we’re looking at redressing wider societal imbalance – which, I believe, is the true and meaningful work that anyone aiming to embed racial equity into their organisations needs to be looking to do.

So what does this mean in practice? The industry has never been in a better position to tackle racial inequity and has been making those steps over the last two years. Companies are more confident than ever to bridge the gap between external political events and the impact that this has on their employees. To thrive, people need to feel like their experiences are validated, acknowledged and that they are supported.

In the wake of the Black Lives Matter Movement, many companies have started to address this with bold commitments to racial equity, being anti-racist, and often putting huge amounts of money behind those commitments. When these have been done successfully, it’s because of a groundswell of support – from the senior leaders to managers to colleagues. Allyship is also woven throughout the process. It’s part of senior managers’ objectives and KPIs, linked to their performance. It’s not just wheeled out on Black History Month or Pride Week, it’s a consistent flow throughout the year.

Next, we need to think about who we’re reaching. A career in PR is probably not even on the radar of the people who will be our future leaders. So we need to source them. That is through partnering with brilliant organizations like Creative Access, Rare and the Taylor Bennet foundation. But it’s also through doing our own work to go into local schools, work with refugee organisations, run career sessions in prisons. If we’re looking to embed racial equity in our workplace, we need to address racial inequity in society, and that’s through providing opportunity to those that don’t have access to it as easily.

I’ll finish with one final point that I think is crucial when it comes to this topic. We can’t underestimate the power of collective action, and the impact this is having on companies. We only need to look at to Netflix’s walk-out of LGBT+ employees in protest of Dave Chapelle, the protests at Disney to their lack of response to the Don’t Say Gay Bill, and the outrage that ensued when Jay Z hosted the Oscars after-party at Chateau Marmont knowing their history of allegations of sexual harassment and racial discrimination. Workers are demanding more from their employers. Embedding equity isn’t just a nice-to-have, or good for the bottom line, it has the power to make or break a company

All posts by : Jinan Younis