We can move further and faster to bring diversity to the board room

Conservative Party Vice Chairman calls for government action to expose disadvantage and discrimination in the hiring of non-white candidates.

In a move designed to put the focus on gender diversity in the workforce, the government recently published regulations which include the requirement for listed companies to disclose the number of women and men within their organisation as a whole and at senior and board levels. The government has now also called on all executive headhunting firms to publish the numbers of men versus women they place in senior positions.

But the government should look into going further. Whilst gender balance is one measure of workforce diversity, ethnicity is another. Championing workforce diversity should be about improving both.
 
The regulations should be extended so listed companies also have to set out the number of employees from both white and black and ethnic minority (BME) backgrounds within their workforce as a whole, as well as at senior and board level.

Just as there is under-representation of women at senior levels there is also under-representation of those from non-European ethnic backgrounds. The latest figures from the Office for National Statistics estimate that around 12 per cent of the population in England and Wales has a non-white ethnic minority background.

By contrast, the overall proportion of ethnic minority male and female directors on the board of FTSE 100 companies is only 4.4 per cent and 1.3 per cent respectively, according to analysis published this year by Cranfield University. And only seven of the 48 male directors from minority backgrounds, are known to be British.
 
It is a real concern that there may not always be a level playing field when it comes to applying for a job. The All Party Parliamentary Group on Race and Community has just published a report on ethnic minority female unemployment which concludes that discrimination can be found at every stage of the recruitment process - when assessing applications, during interviews, at recruitment agencies and also in the work place itself. Just having a non-European name may stop a candidate from getting an interview.
 
To throw light on this the government could consider introducing a further disclosure regulation with listed companies required to breakdown, by gender and ethnicity, the total number of job applicants, interviewees and new employees over the past year. This would certainly help to highlight companies and sectors where either, ethnic minority candidates and women are just not applying in any number, or where they are not getting interviews.

Some may explain a low level of interviews to minority background applicants by the fact that not enough qualified candidates are applying.
If this really is the stumbling block, it should reinforce the need for companies to undertake more outreach work and mentoring to achieve, over time, a workforce representative of today's society.

Appointing people to jobs on merit and experience is absolutely right. But the proposed new regulations are about taking companies one step further towards focusing on what they need to do to increase diversity in the workforce.

Companies with diverse boards are more effective and outperform their rivals. If a company's workforce and senior management are representative of its customers, it is more likely to make decisions which respond to their needs and hence ultimately benefit the business. And that virtuous circle is one which every company should be looking to square.

Alok Sharma is MP for Reading West and Conservative Vice Chair with special responsibility for BME communities

The way things were and often still are. All white men. Source: Getty

Alok Sharma is the MP for Reading West and Vice Chairman of the Conservative Party with special responsibility for BME communities.

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Relive your worst experiences for $15 an hour: how confessional journalism exploits women writers

The women’s website Bustle asks its writers to fill out a checklist covering every possible personal angle; it puts a low-market value on their most intimate truths.

Let me tell you about the worst thing that ever happened to me, the most terrible thing I’ve ever done. Let me tell you everything there is to know about me, all the buried markers of self that live under my skin. OK not that one, and I’ll keep that one too. I have to have something left over, after all. Even so, I’ve written about being the May Queen at school, and the time I got flashed in an underpass; about having depression as a teenager, and the unplanned pregnancy that became my son.

Actually, I’ve written about that last one twice: my first successful pitch for a comment piece was a response to anti-abortion comments by the then-influential semi-thinker Phillip Blond. It was a kind of pitch I now refer to now as the “what I think about X as a Y”: what I think about abortion as a woman who had and chose to continue an unplanned pregnancy. Experience is capital, and in 2009, I used it to buy my way into writing.

It’s a standard route for women writers, but not usually as formalised as it is at women’s website Bustle, which (as Gawker reported last week) asks its writers to fill out a checklist covering every possible personal angle: “I see a therapist”, “I’ve had group sex (more than three)”, “I used to have a Fitbit but I don’t now”.

Every bit of what you are, granulated and packaged for easy dispersal through a range of stories. It’s an editorial approach that gives rise to a weird, impersonally-personal tone. “Five Reasons I’m Grateful For My Parents’ Divorce”, chirrups a listicle; “that’s why I tried anal sex in the first place”, trills a gif-heavy piece about the benefits of bumming.

That’s just the shallow end of the confessional genre. The ideal online women’s interest story combines a huge, life-changing disclosure with an empowering message. Like this, from xoJane: “I'm Finally Revealing My Name and Face As the Duke Porn Star” (the last line of that one is: “My name is Belle Knox, and I wear my Scarlet Letter with pride”). Or this, from Jezebel: “On Falling In and Out of Love With My Dad” (which concludes like this: “And to the victims of their abuse, I want to say what I have finally been able to understand myself: that my attraction, and what it led to, was not my fault”).

It’s tempting to think of this blend of prurience and uplift as a peculiar product of the internet, but it’s been a staple of women’s publishing forever: the covers of women’s magazines are full of lines like “Raped for 50p and a biscuit!” and “The groom who went ZOOM!” about a jilted bride, exactly as they were when I used to sneak them from my aunt’s magazine rack to read them as a child. The difference is that, in the trashy weeklies, there’s no pretence that trauma is the overture for a career. You get paid for your story, and someone else writes it up. The end.

At Bustle, the rate apparently runs to $90 for a six-hour shift. That feels like a low market value to put on your most intimate truths, especially when the follow-up success you’re investing in might never materialise. The author of the father-daughter incest story for Jezebel told a Slate writer that, despite the huge web traffic her confessional received, her subsequent pitches were ignored. Her journalistic career currently begins and ends with her very grimmest experience.

“Everything is copy” is the Nora Ephron line. But when she said it, she didn’t intend the disclosure economy we live in now. For Ephron, “everything is copy” meant claiming control: “When you slip on the banana peel, people laugh at you. But when you tell people you slipped on the banana peel, it’s your laugh. So you become the hero, rather than the victim of the joke.”

Does the aspiring writer plucked from an editor’s checklist to retail her own Worst Thing Ever get to call the banana skin her own?

The Bustle checklist suggests not. “Don’t put anything on here you don’t want to write about,” it stresses, before adding, “that said, you can always say ‘no’ . . . You might be too busy when an editor approaches you about possibly writing an identity post, or simply not interested, and that’s okay! We won’t be mad!”

Ticking the box basically puts you in a position of assumed consent, but which hopeful young woman would dare to set her boundaries too close when an editor tells her this could be good for her career? (Yes, I know this sounds a bit like a story of sexual harassment. Funny, that.)

So many confessionalist pieces of writing tell stories about women having their limits overridden. Rape and coercion. Abuse and assault. Being talked over and ignored. But the logic of the perpetual confession journalism machine is the same: everything about a woman should be available to use, nothing a woman has to say is valid without a personal claim to authority, repackage their guts as shiny sausages and call it an “identity piece”.

Women writers shouldn’t be waiting for permission to say no. We need to tell our stories on our own terms, and we need to set better terms than $15 an hour and the hope of some exposure. The worst thing that ever happened to me? It’s mine. I’m keeping it.

Sarah Ditum is a journalist who writes regularly for the Guardian, New Statesman and others. Her website is here.