Don’t Fall for the DEI Sleight of Hand

This humorous misunderstanding goes on for several minutes and highlights the chaos that can arise from semantic confusion.

Unfortunately, a similar confusion in language, though far less amusing, is occurring in the United States today over diversity, equity, and inclusion. What should be a straightforward discussion about institutional goals has turned into a cultural flashpoint, partly because not everyone means the same thing when they say “DEI.”

Since his first day in office, President Donald Trump has worked to eliminate DEI from federal agencies and higher education, viewing it as an illiberal force that violates the Civil Rights Act by promoting racial and sexual discrimination. Many people, however, perceive these moves as an attack on civil rights and assume the administration is targeting the plain meanings of “diversity,” “equity,” and “inclusion.”

The problem is that both sides are, in a way, correct. DEI has become a label that refers to two very different sets of ideas and practices. In rhetorical theory, we would call this a lack of definitional stasis — a failure to agree on the meaning of the key terms under debate.

To understand the controversy, we must first clarify the two versions of DEI.

The more controversial version, criticized by commentators such as Chris Rufo and Bill Maher, is DEI grounded in critical social justice. This framework interprets all social relations as battles between power and oppression, focusing especially on race, gender, and identity. It assumes that systemic injustice is omnipresent and that achieving “equity” requires redistributing resources and opportunities to historically marginalized groups.

This model — let’s call it critical social justice DEI — rejects principles such as colorblindness, meritocracy, and even equality under the law. Instead, it emphasizes identity-based treatment and actively discriminates in favor of certain groups to counterbalance past discrimination. In doing so, it often runs afoul of the Civil Rights Act.

On the other hand, there is a version of DEI that genuinely aims to foster diversity of perspective, equal opportunity, and inclusion through accessibility — a vision much closer to the spirit of the Civil Rights Act. Let’s call this version Civil Rights Act DEI. It encourages institutions to ensure that people of all backgrounds have fair access to opportunities, and it includes, but is not limited to, considerations of race and gender. This model treats people as autonomous agents and promotes merit-based evaluation. It is inclusive without being prescriptive and strives for fairness without resorting to group-based favoritism.

The problem is that when people talk about DEI, whether in support or opposition, they often conflate these two very different models. Critics of DEI may be targeting critical social justice DEI, while supporters may be defending Civil Rights Act DEI — and vice versa. As a result, the national conversation has devolved into a semantic stalemate, with both sides talking past each other.

Worse still, some actors use this confusion to their advantage through a rhetorical maneuver known as the motte-and-bailey fallacy. When challenged, DEI proponents may retreat to the more defensible Civil Rights Act DEI, the “motte,” claiming that they’re simply promoting fairness and inclusion. But when unchallenged, they often implement critical social justice DEI, the “bailey,” which relies on ideological coercion, identity reductionism, and equity through preferential treatment.

This sleight of hand is visible at both micro and macro levels. For example, a campus diversity officer may defend his work as “making all students feel welcome,” or Civil Rights Act DEI, while in practice, enforcing trainings that treat merit or colorblindness as symptoms of white supremacy, or critical social justice DEI. Institutions such as Columbia University may frame pushback against DEI as a threat to academic freedom, even as their DEI offices implement policies that suppress viewpoint diversity and penalize dissent.

Unlike Abbott and Costello’s sketch, there’s nothing funny about this kind of confusion. The semantic ambiguity around DEI has fueled anger, resentment, and political polarization. It has led to poorly targeted legislation, ideological witch hunts, and a breakdown of public trust in educational and governmental institutions.

What can be done?

The first step is clarity. Before supporting or opposing DEI, we must identify which version we are dealing with. Is it critical social justice DEI, which reifies group identity and undermines legal equality? Or is it Civil Rights Act DEI, which seeks to remove barriers and empower people through equal access?

This won’t solve all our problems, but it is a necessary start. Without a shared understanding of what DEI actually means, our debates will continue to mirror Who’s on First? — only this time, no one will be laughing.