Divided by Design...

How DEI Undermines Academia’s Mission

When I first joined the University of Alabama as a faculty member, I had high hopes of contributing meaningfully to the field of science. I envisioned a career rooted in rigorous inquiry, collaboration, and teaching students to approach problems with curiosity and an open mind. But over the years, I watched as the university and others like it pivoted toward a different focus: the enforcement of Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives. While these programs were ostensibly designed to foster inclusivity and fairness, what I saw, and experienced, was something far darker.

The DEI agenda at the University of Alabama and throughout the university system did not unite students or faculty; it alienated them. By reducing individuals to their immutable characteristics, race, gender, or ethnicity, DEI initiatives created division rather than cohesion. Instead of building bridges, they drew hard lines between groups, segregating students and faculty into reductive categories. These programs claimed to fight inequality, but they seemed only to foster resentment and mistrust.

Speaking Out and Facing Backlash

I was vocal about my concerns from the start. In STEM fields, where merit and collaboration should be paramount, DEI policies felt particularly intrusive. One of the most glaring examples of this was the push to eliminate the GRE as an admissions requirement for graduate programs, all in the name of equity. I fought against this decision, arguing that the GRE, while imperfect, provided a standardized measure to evaluate students’ readiness for the rigors of graduate-level work. Without it, we were left with subjective criteria heavily influenced by identity-focused initiatives. This made it exceedingly difficult to fairly and accurately assess applicants, especially when academic records varied widely in quality and rigor across institutions. By removing objective metrics, we risked admitting students who might struggle unnecessarily while overlooking others who were truly prepared to excel.

My resistance to these changes and my broader critique of DEI policies earned me immediate and intense backlash. Colleagues branded me a racist on social media, a reaction that was both predictable and profoundly absurd.

These accusations weren’t rooted in anything I had said or done but were based solely on my refusal to unquestioningly accept the DEI orthodoxy. The hostility escalated to the point where the university’s strategic communications office instructed my department to cut off all communication with me entirely. Overnight, I became a pariah in my own academic community.

The absurdity didn’t stop there. One of my department’s DEI initiatives involved participation in the Unlearning Racism in Geosciences (URGE) program. Ironically, this program, designed to promote diversity, was almost entirely white at my institution, save for one student, despite the large number of minority students. Yet, this overwhelmingly homogeneous group felt entitled to lecture me about revising my lab protocols to ensure they were free of “microaggressions.” The suggestion was baffling, my protocols were strictly about research and safety. The idea that they could harbor hidden biases was a performative exercise in wokeness, devoid of any real-world application. Instead of addressing meaningful issues or advancing STEM education, initiatives like URGE devolved into self-congratulatory rituals that did nothing to foster genuine inclusion.

These experiences highlighted just how far DEI efforts had drifted from their stated goals. Policies and programs ostensibly designed to promote equity and fairness instead created barriers to objective evaluation, fostered resentment, and prioritized virtue signaling over substantive progress. My refusal to stay silent about these issues came at a significant personal and professional cost, but it was a stand I knew I had to take.

The Illiberal Shift

This silencing wasn’t limited to me. Across campus, there was a growing sense of illiberalism, where dissent was no longer tolerated. Faculty and students alike were pressured to conform to the DEI narrative, regardless of whether they believed in it or not. Conversations became stifled, as people feared being labeled as bigots or facing professional consequences for voicing alternative viewpoints.

Worse still, DEI policies actively segregated students. Programs and initiatives were designed specifically for certain racial or ethnic groups, excluding others by design. Rather than fostering cross-cultural understanding, these policies made students hyper-aware of their differences. The result was a climate of tension and hostility, where students began to see each other not as peers but as members of competing tribes.

The Evidence: Proving the Harm

For years, I argued that DEI policies were doing more harm than good, but my warnings were consistently dismissed as alarmist or out of touch. Now, however, the study Instructing Animosity: How DEI Pedagogy Produces the Hostile Attribution Bias by the Network Contagion Research Institute vindicates everything I had been saying. This comprehensive analysis provides hard evidence that DEI initiatives not only fail to foster inclusivity but actively exacerbate racial tension and mistrust, leading to the very animosities they claim to resolve.

The study delves deeply into the effects of segregating students and faculty by race, uncovering a disturbing pattern: rather than creating understanding or mutual respect, these practices amplify divisions and breed hostility. Figures 5a and 5b from the study are particularly illuminating.