I want to share an example of being wrong from my own life. My purpose is not just to illustrate how ideology can lead a person to a flawed understanding, but also to urge the public not to abandon the concept of equity in the justified backlash against DEI. This essay is inspired by a Facebook post that challenged those who oppose DEI to courageously reject each word in the acronym—diversity, equity, and inclusion—along with the purpose they convey. The post was intended to shame opponents of DEI, but it framed the issue disingenuously. The real task is not to accept or reject these words based on how they have been co-opted but to reclaim their proper meanings. In this essay, I focus on equity to illustrate the importance of clear and consistent definitions.
In the 1990s, while in graduate school, I was assigned to teach an introductory sociology course. While lecturing on inequality, I presented affirmative action as an effort to promote equity, which I defined as ensuring equality of opportunity. To illustrate this, I began with an analogy: wheelchair-bound children. I believed that by starting with a clear example of a physical barrier, I could then apply the concept to racial disparities. After all, who would object to accommodating wheelchair-bound children?
I explained that a teenager in a wheelchair needs a ramp to enter a school building. This accommodation does not guarantee academic success, but it does ensure that the student has access to the same educational opportunities as others. In my mind, this was a clear example of equity—removing a tangible barrier to opportunity.
A student interrupted, asking, “Are you saying black people are like crippled people?” To my ears, his question implied that he found the analogy offensive because he saw disability as an inherent deficiency in a judgmental way. My response was dismissive: “Is there something wrong with being disabled?”
Years later, I came to understand the deeper significance of his question. He was pointing out a flaw in my reasoning. While wheelchair ramps are an example of equity, affirmative action is not. The disadvantage faced by disabled individuals is partly because society is designed for those without physical impairments. A wheelchair ramp addresses an objective, verifiable need. Racial disparities, however, do not stem from inherent physical limitations but rather from complex social, historical, and economic factors. The causes of racial disparities are contested and difficult to isolate, making policies designed to address them inherently more subjective.
My inability to grasp this distinction at the time stemmed from ideological conditioning, which had redefined equity to justify group-based policies under the guise of justice. This is how ideology can constrain logical thinking, and why critical self-examination is necessary.
Equity, properly understood, focuses on removing tangible barriers to opportunity while allowing outcomes to be determined by individual effort and circumstances. The example of a wheelchair-bound child needing a ramp is appropriate—he is not guaranteed success, but he is given the same access as his peers. In contrast, affirmative action does not remove a concrete barrier; it selects individuals based on race, treating them as members of a collective rather than as individuals.
A more accurate analogy can be found in gender differences. There are clear physical distinctions between men and women that justify differential treatment in certain areas, such as sports. Women’s sports leagues exist because strict equality—forcing women to compete directly with men—would systematically exclude them from competition. Equity, in this context, requires separate leagues to ensure fair opportunity. This differs from racial affirmative action because it is based on an objective, measurable difference rather than an abstract social construct.
Similarly, economic disadvantage presents a tangible and measurable disparity. Poverty, regardless of race, creates barriers to opportunity. Poor individuals face limited access to quality education, healthcare, and economic mobility. A class-based approach to equity, which targets disadvantaged individuals irrespective of race, is more effective at reducing disparities and promoting fairness. In contrast, race-based policies assume uniform disadvantage within racial groups, ignoring the fact that economic circumstances vary widely among individuals of the same race. Addressing class-based barriers ensures that assistance goes to those who genuinely need it, rather than being distributed based on racial identity.
This distinction is crucial in the broader discussion of fairness and justice. Equity should be about removing clear obstacles to opportunity, not about enforcing proportional outcomes. Affirmative action, as it is commonly practiced, does not eliminate barriers—it creates a new form of discrimination by prioritizing racial identity over individual circumstances and merit.
DEI frameworks often distort the meaning of equity. They claim that equality means treating everyone the same, while equity involves ensuring equal outcomes. This redefinition is misleading. Properly understood, equity is a form of equality—it ensures equality of opportunity by accounting for real differences in circumstances. However, when equity is redefined to mean achieving uniform outcomes across groups, it ceases to be about fairness and becomes a tool for ideological work.
In practice, if equity is to be just, it cannot be based on ideological constructs and speculative social theories. It must be grounded in objective realities—physical, economic, and structural barriers that can be addressed without resorting to group-based discrimination. If we are to reclaim equity from ideological distortion, we must insist on applying it consistently and rationally, ensuring that it remains a tool for fairness rather than an instrument for enforcing ideological conformity.
freedom and reason 