The Death of DEI and My Complicated Feelings About It

A few years ago, if someone had suggested I stop using the phrase Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, I would have laughed in their face. Or at least given them the look I reserve for people who call The Bachelor “a fascinating sociological experiment.”

Because words matter. Naming things gives them power. When we refuse to name injustice, it thrives. When we don’t articulate our values, we leave them open to interpretation—often by people who have no business interpreting them.

And yet.

And yet.

I find myself in a moment of uncomfortable agreement with the people suggesting we let DEI fade into the background. Not because I’ve suddenly decided the work isn’t essential (it is). And not because I think “wokeness” has gone “too far” (what a joke). But because DEI, as a term, was drained of its meaning long before Trump and his army of grievance merchants decided it was the bogeyman of the decade.

Let’s be honest: Corporate America got to DEI first.

Before anyone was banning it, companies had already turned it into an industry—a conveyor belt of bland workshops and vague commitments, more about checking boxes than changing systems. DEI became a thing you could buy in a 90-minute training session. A consultant could breeze through your organization, point out some implicit biases, and leave you with a glossy PDF that nobody would ever open again.

Even nonprofits, the supposed do-gooders, got sucked into the performative cycle. Committees were formed. Statements were drafted. And, in the most exhausting twist of all, the organizations least willing to actually shift power structures were the ones shouting “DEI” the loudest.

The work was real, but the language? The language was already exhausted.

The Power of Naming Things

There’s a reason conservatives want to erase these words. The people banning DEI and screaming about CRT aren’t confused; they’re afraid. They know that naming injustice makes it harder to ignore. They understand that if we call out systemic racism, we might actually do something about it.

But here’s the part I wrestle with: If DEI was already a shell of itself—if it had become something companies could perform instead of embody—was it actually serving us anymore? If an acronym is more about optics than impact, is it worth defending?

It feels like trying to rescue a word that has already been gentrified. Like insisting a neighborhood still has “character” while sipping a $9 latte in the artisanal toast café that replaced the bodega. The meaning was drained long before the attack.

What Comes Next?

I’m not saying we stop talking about diversity, equity, or inclusion. These concepts are still non-negotiable. But maybe it’s time we stop relying on language that corporations co-opted and conservatives weaponized. Maybe we start saying what we actually mean:

• We’re talking about power—who has it, who doesn’t, and how we change that.

• We’re talking about justice, not just vague ideas of fairness but actual structural shifts.

• We’re talking about liberation, because equity alone isn’t the goal.

So yes, I feel conflicted. I hate that we’re being told to stop saying DEI. I hate that this country is so terrified of confronting racism that it’s easier to erase the words than do the work.

But if I’m honest? I had already stopped relying on those words myself. I had already started looking for something sharper, something that hadn’t been drained of its bite.

Let them ban the acronym. They don’t get to ban the fight.