Why DEI actually matters

There has recently been a great deal of discussion focused on the elimination of initiatives that support DEIA (Diversity, Equity, Inclusion and Accessibility). Major corporations around the world are rolling back their DEIA programmes and removing DEIA messaging from their communications at an alarming pace. In less than five years, the number of prominent international drinks companies that had been promoting a strong commitment to DEIA has dwindled significantly. While some individuals might be dancing in the street, others – me included – are very worried about the future.

Now more than ever, those of us who work in the wine, spirits and hospitality industries need to re-explore the ways in which we form coalitions with each other. We need to move beyond our own experiences and focus on developing our collective empathic skills. We might even need to have some very difficult discussions. Perhaps we need to look at the concepts of diversity and equity in a more all-inclusive way?

The goal of a true coalition is to build trust and consensus between people and organisations that have similar responsibilities and concerns within a community – or, in the case of the wine, spirits and hospitality industries, within several interdependent communities – so that the various individuals can work together to achieve a common goal.

Our collective goal must be to support every single person that works in these industries so that everyone has a fair chance, but also so that nobody feels neglected or subjected to scorn or ridicule. In an ideal world, a rising tide should lift every single boat in the sea. Every single one.

The mere mention of DEIA has polarised people across the world in recent months. Both supporters and detractors have become reduced to effigies of simplified political symbols in the public space, akin to the way that wearing a mask or not did during the recent global pandemic. But what if we moved beyond false dichotomies and listened to each other in a meaningful way? What if we found a fresh way to evolve so that everyone could feel included? In 1959, South African Robert Sobukwe said, ‘There is only one race to which all belong, and that is the human race’.

As a 50-year-old Franco-American white gay man who has worked in this industry for most of my adult life, I have had some painful experiences of my own, and I have seen colleagues deal with things that most people would consider atrocious. Back in 1999 when I was a young marketing assistant in New York, my direct boss cautioned me to not ‘act too gay’ during a sales presentation since it might alienate the client; I was far from flamboyant, and I had never discussed my own sexual orientation with my boss or with anyone else. A couple of years later, I spent an evening with the president of a prominent distributor in Chicago and his team following the launch of a successful collaboration with a hotel. Every single person at the table was talking about their spouses and showing photos of their children. I listened to stories about daycare, after-school activities, summer vacation plans, etc. with aplomb. When it got to be my turn, I simply mentioned that I had a boyfriend but that we didn’t have any children. The distributor’s president looked at me and said, ‘Dude, don’t make me lose my appetite! Can’t you guys just do what you do and not tell us about it?’ In Moscow in 2008, I was on hand to help launch the prestige cuvée of a champagne house during a private dinner organised by the brand’s local distributor. At the end of the meal, the 12 men at the table asked me if I wanted to join them at a nearby strip club. For a variety of reasons, I declined the offer, politely but adamantly. In front of everyone, the owner of the distributor looked at me and said, ‘You’re not a fairy, are you? Because I don’t do business with fairies.’ It was one of the only times in my life that I denied who I was, not because I feared for my job, but because I feared for my safety. I just said that I was married to a lovely woman, and that she wouldn’t approve. My response was met with veritable chortling as the men around me assured me that, while they were also married, that wasn’t going to dissuade them from going – and if it was going to be covered on someone else’s expense account, what was there to lose?

I have a Latina friend in Houston who is one of the best wine salespeople I’ve ever met. When she called on one client with me in tow, he mentioned, just as we arrived at his restaurant, how much he appreciated the sight of her breasts. I asked her why she put up with that. She said it was because the guy bought six pallets of wine a year from her, and because she had a family to feed. ‘He doesn’t touch me, and I think he’s gross, but he pays his invoices, so I tolerate it.’ Every single woman I have ever met in our industry has horrible stories about customers who were ‘too friendly’ during a strictly professional appointment or meeting. Every single one.

A couple of years ago in Virginia, I spent the day in the car with a Black male colleague as we tried to sell wines. When we showed up to our scheduled appointment at a wine shop towards the end of the day, the manager of the store locked the door in front of us. After approximately 20 seconds, she recognised my colleague under the light and opened the door, saying: ‘Oh of course I recognise you, please come in!’ She then looked at me, a fellow white person and said, ‘I’m so sorry but, you know, you can’t be too careful’. That just happened in 2023!

I am the textbook definition of the liberal elite person that people want to hate in this current political climate. I grew up in Connecticut and graduated from Vassar with a degree in Women’s Studies in 1996. Nearly three decades ago, I literally wrote my senior thesis about gender dysphoria. In the early 1990s, all of us in academia were devoted to exploring postmodern and post-structuralist ideas. We had debates about fluidity, the subjectivity of human experiences, and the role power relations had in shaping discourse. We argued about the social construction of gender. We fought for safe spaces. We argued among ourselves. At Vassar, we had co-ed bathrooms, and it didn’t bother any of us. We lived in a beautiful, magical bubble for four years, where we had the privilege to have these conversations – and I loved it. But looking back, I see where we might have let our youthful enthusiasm and shared ideals keep us from seeing other perspectives. In retrospect, I do remember that I read all the criticism of Freud and Lacan and Dostoyevsky and Foucault before I ever read the original source materials. Perhaps I had much more to say about what needed to be dismantled before I fully understood what needed to be dismantled.

Looking back to nearly three decades ago, I acknowledge that we didn’t think about the poor white straight men in town who were struggling, but they clearly were. Just beyond our proverbial Ivory Tower, the city of Poughkeepsie was filled with people who were working multiple jobs just to put food on the table for their families. My friends and I would leave our campus to head to a ‘townie bar’ where we could drink underage, and we were judgmental. We saw things through our own lenses, and we judged people who weren’t like us. We embraced displacement as a defence mechanism that enabled us to transfer negative feelings from ourselves to other entities, specifically onto poor white straight guys who might have looked us up and down, and perhaps we thought they were sexist or racist or homophobic, and maybe they were, but we never really gave them a chance to let us know that, like us, they were also struggling with their own identities – and they were also looking to be heard and, most importantly, to be accepted. As a group of self-identified misfits, we were naturally scared and defensive, but we should have talked less and listened more. The one part of DEIA that is very rarely addressed is that of class, of economic access, of those attributes that you might not easily see on the surface…

During the last 25 years working in the wine, spirits and hospitality industries, I have seen disadvantaged straight white guys suffer, too. Anyone who has ever worked in a bar or restaurant can tell you shocking tales of drug and alcohol abuse, of people who burned themselves out quickly for very little compensation, and of the morning hours spent in convalescence. I have also seen young men become brand ambassadors for international wine and spirits companies and be paid to fly to places like Singapore and London and Nantucket to convince people to drink until the wee hours, and to be paid a bonus for their rates of conversion. I have rarely seen programmes that address issues of dependency and alcoholism in this community. The guys are paid to look good and convince you to buy wine and spirit brands. If they burn out at 32 years old, that’s not something for you to think about. But nobody seems to be concerned about this specific population. We think they are being looked after – but that’s not always the case. But they seem to be doing okay, don’t they? At least on the surface …

On another note, few people seem to be concerned with forms of neurodiversity that are not easily seen. A friend in the industry who has suffered from Tourette’s Syndrome for his entire life recently told me that, according to his own observations, it's still completely acceptable to make fun of people who suffer from his condition, even though society at large has condemned other forms of mockery. It’s true that optics can be deceiving. A friend who runs a scholarship programme awarded a grant to an applicant a couple of years ago who was a handsome white 22-year-old man from a well-heeled part of the United States. She was criticised by many people for ‘wasting’ her funds on someone who hadn’t suffered as much as many others in the industry. In truth, the scholar she championed had been punched in the face by his own father after coming out of the closet when he was 19 and subsequently kicked out of the house. He ended up in a shelter and then went on to pass the WSET diploma. Appearances can be deceiving. Yes, some of us have had more privilege than others. But who are any of us to judge?

Certainly, per capita, some groups have suffered more than others. There are millions of people who have never had to deal with the legacies of postcolonialism or slavery or indentured servitude in all its ugly forms. There are some who have always had access to clean drinking water and education and health care. There are some who have never had to confront coming out to their parents. There are some who have never had to fight off the unwanted advances of an overzealous colleague in the back of a taxi in Shanghai or Marseille at 2 am.

But perhaps we can embrace a post-postmodernism that seeks to temper reason with faith, as we explore how to adjust some of the basic tenets of DEIA so that every single person on the planet feels included. That is going to force us to rethink many of our existing ideas, and require us to work closely together. We might need to have some tough discussions. But this is the only way forward.

Those of us in the wine, spirits and hospitality industries need to work together as a team now more than perhaps ever. In the last few months, we are starting to see a fraying, and communities are being pushed against each other in a way that empowers only the global hegemony. The best way to divide people is to divide them into groups. If we fight against each other, we do not have the time or energy to fight that which oppresses ALL of us. We cannot forget from where others have come, and we should also not stop asking questions about the background stories of people we don’t know at all. Let’s do a better job of checking in with each other. Let’s put an end to tokenism. Let’s think about what being an ally to EVERYONE means in the broadest sense of the term. Let’s work together to support each other. Truly.

For the managing directors in the wine, spirits, and hospitality spaces out there, this is why DEIA initiatives directly impact your bottom line, now more than ever:

They bring new perspectives and new ideas – and different points of view.

They help to broaden consumer reach.

They help to improve employee retention.

They help to create a positive brand image.

They help to foster partnerships and collaborations.

The wine, spirits and hospitality industries are changing faster than ever. The threats of climate change are now accepted as universal truth by anyone who owns a vineyard. The number of people who choose to avoid alcohol completely is growing steadily. Historical markets are struggling. Emerging markets are struggling.

For so many reasons, we should look at ways to find new solutions together.

Image at top by Natalia Vetrova via iStock.

Christian Holthausen is a Paris-based Franco-American who has worked in wine communications for 25 years.

Share this Story

inclusion and diversity

Guest contributor