Is there a diversity issue among chief diversity officers?

There is a growing conversation among diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI) practitioners about the representative makeup within our ranks. At first glance, the suggested demographics seem less than rosy. 

One estimation from Zippia claims that 76% of Chief Diversity Officers (CDOs) are white. This figure has been shared aggressively across professional social channels and think pieces. When I first saw the statistic, I was surprised—and then skeptical. Not because the idea of white people co-opting spaces and roles was surprising, but because, as a DEI practitioner, I know better than to blindly believe the data without the necessary critical analysis. 

Blind belief is dangerous. Any desired narrative can be extrapolated from data and can be aggressively biased depending on the quality, quantity, methodology, source, and the individual interpreting and analyzing it. Growing up, particularly in math classes, my teachers would constantly exhort us to show our work. I expect nothing less from those producing data outputs. How was the data collected? By whom? For what purpose? And to serve whose interests? 

To best understand if there is a diversity issue among chief diversity officers, let’s start by taking into account some additional context. In 2021, The Washington Post surveyed the 50 most valuable companies from S&P Global Market Intelligence and found that the vast majority of CDOs were Black. This demographic data that they collected (though limited in scope) stands in stark contrast to the claim that most CDOs are white. In my work, I have not found any sources to support this claim outside of one 2019 report, which found that 60% of CDOs were white. 

The lack of available data may, in part, be due to the influx of CDO roles since 2020. After the murder of George Floyd, DEI jobs skyrocketed by 123%. Any number of factors, such as the disparate uses of job titles, could contribute to messy data collection and interpretation.

Much of the data on this subject also fails to differentiate experienced DEI practitioners from figureheads in human resource positions that are distinct from CDOs. For instance, some entities conducting these surveys qualified respondents with criteria such as “spends at least some of their time on the job dedicated to diversity and inclusion.” By that standard, any manager might qualify. What’s more, most surveys make no mention of other intersecting dimensions of identity—disability, LGBTQ+, age, immigration status, etc.  

Overall demographics of the U.S. suggest that it is conceivable that a large percentage of available workers, and therefore those applying for DEI roles, could be, in fact, white. The Bureau of Labor Statistics notes the composition of our labor force as, 77% white, 13% Black, 7% Asian 1% American Indians and Alaska Natives, and less than half a percent for Native Hawaiians and Other Pacific Islanders; people who were of two or more races made up 2% of the labor force. However, from federal forms to institutional surveys, those of Middle Eastern or North African (MENA) descent are often counted as white. This is just one example of how the data collection methods we employ have flaws and biases.

My present concerns rest less with the detailed demographic details of CDOs. Nor am I even addressing what myself (and many of my colleagues) feel is the problematic nature of white people filling DEI roles. My primary point lies more in the missed opportunity to argue with clear data. Data limitations present a challenge for all DEI teams and, perhaps more vitally, the potential to cause and perpetuate harm. 

A core principle in DEI is accountability, and we have a responsibility to practice information hygiene when sharing data to support our arguments. We do this by being specific in our practices, in our analysis, and in our use of data. 

Here are a few key things to look for when interrogating industry data:

1. Seek out sample size. This will be denoted by an “N=[number]” for the population size and “n=[number]” for the sample size.  
2. Seek out citations. We must think critically about who produces knowledge and the aim they seek in addition to attributing those whose work informs our process of discovery.
3. Seek out comparisons. One data set alone does not tell the whole story. Comparisons are the bedrock of data analysis, and help us understand the relevance of data and its use within our field. 
4. Seek out sources. Always consider the source. Who commissions a piece of research, and the methodology used, is as vital as the outputs themselves. 

When I speak with peers about the data in question, many posit that “it could be partly right.” Of course, then, it is also partly wrong. 

On her podcast, Midlife Career Rebel, Dr. Carol Parker Walsh aptly frames the necessity to show one’s work. “In daily practice, DEI practitioners must outline a practical and theoretical framework—the lens through which we do our work,” she says. “Like social scientists, we make clear to stakeholders how we come to our findings, our epistemology (i.e., what do you know and how do you know it?).” 

It follows that we ought to demand the same rigor of the data we use. No less than our own credibility, and that of our mission, is at stake.

Amira Barger is the EVP and head of health communications & DEI advisory for a global firm. She is also an adjunct professor of marketing & communications at Cal State East Bay.