When I took a job at the University of Bristol, I was given, for my induction, a series of online workshops and training programmes. Over the course of several months, I made my way through the many slides dense with information and all the attendant quizzes. They were…very boring. I don’t remember the exact questions, but they were along the lines of ‘Which of the following is not a protected characteristic? Age, race, football club affiliation…’—that sort of thing. Then came a question on the Equality, Diversity, and Inclusion module close to my heart:
‘A selection panel is in discussion. The strongest candidate is John, a Jewish applicant. However, there is a potential problem: he says he’ll need to leave early every Friday, which is when the weekly Team Meeting has to be held.
‘Which of these statements by the panel do you think is most appropriate? Click on each card to learn more.
1. “He’s the best candidate. Let’s just recruit him, and work around it.”
2. “But the meeting is vital. Let’s ask what he means by leaving early.”
3. “He’s not going to be able to make the meetings. Let’s recruit someone else.”’
‘Well, that’s a softball,’ I thought. Beyond the fact that no university department I’ve ever encountered would dare hold a weekly team meeting on Friday afternoons (what academic would stand for it?!), the best candidate is obviously not going to be denied the job for a matter pertaining to a protected characteristic. That’s basic Equality Act 2010, isn’t it? And common sense.
I cavalierly clicked #1. ‘Feedback card #1,’ it read, ‘Might not be a good idea. Whilst it’s important to be flexible when it comes to accommodating religious practices amongst employees or candidates, key work responsibilities must always be fulfilled.’
Um….what?? I took screenshots. I wanted to say something. But I was brand new – these were, after all, induction materials – so I didn’t. Also, my experience was good. When I was given teaching on Friday afternoons in the winter, I asked if it would be possible to move my classes since I needed to be home before the sun set, and my commute was long. I was immediately told—and without the slightest hesitation—that I would not be scheduled in-person teaching on Friday henceforth. Indeed, they have been true to their word, totally accommodating my religious requirements.
Contrary to popular belief, my university does not brew up antisemitic plots in its spare time. I didn’t know it at the time, but the EDI module had been outsourced; my university, like many universities, used a package from an e-learning consultancy that advertises themselves as ‘specialists in diversity, inclusion, and unconscious bias’ (sounds like the specialists could use some specialists!). Of course, Bristol should have reviewed the materials; of course, they should have done better.
But at the end of the day, my beef is with these training programmes. The training did precisely the opposite of what it was meant to do, which is to create a more inclusive work environment. It was teaching people to exclude, to discriminate against someone with a religious necessity that, in a flexible setting like a university, could easily find a workaround.
This week, I finally mustered the courage to share the problematic content. My tweet made it
around the world and then back again—right to Bristol’s head of inclusion, who contacted to me and let me know that the university cancelled their subscription with the provider last August. In response to my tweet (and the hubbub surrounding it), they also put out a statement distancing themselves from the content provider—and from the content itself.
Still, I can’t help but wonder what other universities and organisations are still using it and how many people around the country are being taught that it’s not ok to exclude a minority — unless, that is, the minority is Jewish.
