What really holds people back from stepping up as allies in support of their marginalized colleagues? For example, why don’t more men say something when they see a colleague or a customer make a sexist remark about a female co-worker? Research that I co-authored, published in the European Journal of Work and Organizational Psychology, suggests that people often hesitate to intervene when co-workers are mistreated because they themselves feel disempowered in their organizations and experience distrust and polarization. Our findings run counter to the common assumption that people don’t step up to support marginalized colleagues because they don’t care or are unmotivated. Not seeing much action against inequity and injustice can drive this cynical idea. It’s built into many diversity, equity and inclusion training programs that rely on motivational tactics of persuasion, guilting and shaming to get people to act.
We surveyed 778 employees in Michigan and 973 employees across all provinces of Canada, representative of urban and rural areas, working-class and professional jobs, and across all demographics. We asked them, “What makes it hard for you to be an ally for underrepresented and marginalized people (e.g., people of color, women, persons with disabilities) in your organization?”
Low motivation represented just 8% of the barriers people cited. The lack of awareness that marginalized groups face inequities accounted for only 10% of the barriers people mentioned. Most diversity training money tends to be devoted to teaching employees about these topics – suggesting why many diversity training programs fail.
The most common barrier to allyship that our participants named was distrust and tension between people in their organization, which had them second-guessing themselves and self-censoring. People also reported feeling disempowered, like they didn’t have the power, opportunity, or resources to make a difference for their colleagues.
Researchers, specialists and consultants alike approach issues of workplace inequity with the assumption that to drive action, they need to first unblock potential allies’ deep-seated resistance to change. For example, specialists assume that people need to become more motivated, more courageous, less biased, or better informed in order to act as allies.
In this study, we temporarily set aside all preexisting assumptions and directly asked people what made it hard for them to be an ally. Our goal was to identify practical roadblocks at the top of people’s minds that stop them from taking the first step, or the next logical step. When popular messaging and organizational interventions misunderstand the causes of people’s inaction, they risk exacerbating frustration and tensions. Interventions need to account for their audience’s true perspectives on what makes allyship difficult. Otherwise, they’ll lack credibility, and people will likely be less receptive to program content.
We’d like to further investigate the impacts of the specific barriers mentioned in our study. More insight could help workplaces focus interventions on addressing barriers that are the worst pressure points and avoid overspending on interventions that can move the needle only so much.
More than a quarter of respondents said they experienced no barriers to standing up for colleagues. We’d like to investigate whether these respondents simply didn’t want to engage with our question, are uncertain about the barriers, or are already engaging in some form of allyship. Our team’s previous research has shown that even loud allies who publicly call out bias often also engage in quiet allyship actions, such as privately checking in on how a victim of bias is doing and assisting in strategizing next steps.
Our research team is investigating whether programs designed with this study’s findings in mind – starting with building trusting relationships and helping people feel empowered – can increase allyship action. When diversity programs built on inaccurate assumptions don’t show the desired results, they risk having funding withdrawn or being halted altogether.
Meg A. Warren is a professor of management at Western Washington University. Distributed by The Conversation and The Associated Press.
