As a Diversity and Inclusion Leader, framing “The Business Case” for Diversity, Equity and Inclusion is an essential component in establishing a foundation for the work that follows. Everyone expects it. And so, through rigorous research, benchmarking, and partnership with key stakeholders, we eventually land on a compelling argument for why Diversity and Inclusion matters, and therefore, why initiatives that foster a culture of inclusion or practices that increase diversity in the workplace are worthy of investment of time, money, and human capital resources.
Our business case often looks something like this:
- Our communities are changing. A recent report published by Fortune Magazine indicates that America is becoming increasingly diverse racially with the population of white Americans declining while non-white American groups are increasing in size steadily.
- Companies that are led by women or that have racial diversity in senior level roles consistently outperform those that do not. McKinsey Consulting firm’s recent January 2018 report “Delivering Growth Through Diversity” shares findings that “increased gender diversity on executive teams is strongly correlated with profitability and value creation.”
- Inclusive cultures foster innovation and growth, as discussed in Deloitte’s 2013 study “Waiter, Is that Inclusion In My Soup” in which perceptions of inclusion by employees were linked to strong innovation, collaboration, and customer service.
All of those things are true. But some of my recent work in health equity has made me wonder if perhaps we’re going about preparing our “business case” all wrong. Because even though changing demographics, a competitive healthcare landscape, and innovation will be key to our respective organizations’ ability to deliver on our mission, in healthcare, there is a more compelling reason to prioritize diversity, equity, and inclusion.
Here’s my new business case for diversity, equity and inclusion in healthcare: When we don’t get diversity, equity and inclusion right in our hospitals, in our clinics, in our coverage policies, and in our communities, people die.
Here’s my new business case for diversity, equity and inclusion in healthcare: When we don’t get diversity, equity and inclusion right in our hospitals, in our clinics, in our coverage policies, and in our communities, people die. Share on XIt is that simple.
Perhaps that sounds like too harsh of a statement. Perhaps it is. And I am not a doctor. Healthcare is complicated in ways that I am continuing to understand. Yet our mission—ensure the health and well-being of people – is not. And if we are to meet it, then we must address the fact that diversity and inclusion is not a matter of innovation and outperforming the competition. It’s not a “nice to have” so that our patients feel included. It is a matter of life and death.
Over the course of this series, I will describe three ways in which this “business case” is ringing true in communities and hospitals across the country. Here is the first one.
Maternal and Infant Mortality
In April of this year, Linda Villarosa released the New York Times article, “Why America’s Black Mothers and Babies are in a Life or Death Crisis,” in which she hypothesized that the disparities in maternal and infant health is directly linked to the racialized experiences of being a Black woman in the United States. While the United States’ overall numbers for both maternal and infant mortality are devastatingly high, especially when measured against international standards, for Black mothers in America, the situation is even worse. One leading indicator of maternal mortality, which is defined as death within 45 days of giving birth, is pre-eclampsia and eclampsia. In the United States, Villarosa states, Black women are 60% more likely to have these conditions than their white counterparts. Infant mortality, which looks at death within a year of birth, among women of color is no better, with black infants two times more likely to die in America than white infants.
This data hit home for me especially because I read this article about two weeks before my husband and I found out that we were expecting our first child. So, being the healthcare diversity leader that I am, each doctor I interviewed needed to answer for me: “What are you going to do to ensure that I’m not one of these statistics?” The response across the many doctors that I spoke with was very similar. “Those statistics don’t account for prenatal care. You’re educated and a different socio-economic status, so it doesn’t necessarily matter for you. You don’t have the co-morbidities that often accompany the populations described in these studies, so you have nothing to worry about.” And for a moment, I relaxed. They are right, I thought. I have a good job; I’m a runner; and save the occasional pregnancy craving, I eat mostly vegan.
Feeling more confident, I went back and re-read the article and stumbled on this line that shook me to my core: “Education and income offer little protection. In fact, a black woman with an advanced degree is more likely to lose her baby than a white woman with less than an eighth-grade education,” (Villarosa, 2018).
So, this was not about choices that some communities were making that others weren’t. It didn’t matter that I’d overcome socio-economic odds or prioritized my health and drank green smoothies for breakfast most mornings. It didn’t matter that I’d read every baby book there was to read about a safe and healthy pregnancy and had consistent prenatal care. Technically, I could do everything right and still be one of those statistics.
Which begs the question, was something in the water? It’s hard to ignore statistics that are so stark across racial difference and not imagine that race has something to do with it, particularly given the history of race in our country and the relationship between the healthcare industry and Black Americans. Does unconscious bias play a role? This is an equity issue at its core, and while we as a healthcare industry across the country work to figure it out, Black mothers and babies are dying.
This is an equity issue at its core, and while we as a healthcare industry across the country work to figure it out, Black mothers and babies are dying. Share on XDiversity, equity and inclusion is a matter of life and death.
[Note: This forms part of a 3-post series; check out Part 2 and Part 3.]
