One of the core tenets of learning and development is championing and fostering professional growth, knowledge and opportunities for all employees. There has been a long-brewing problem within this industry, though — and it has grown so insidiously it is nearly impossible to ignore: Learning and talent development has a racial inequity problem.
Spurred by the protests for racial justice during the spring of 2020, many organizations have made diversity, equity and inclusion a priority. Although long overdue, the endeavor to root out the structural racism in many of this country’s institutions is welcome nonetheless. The hard work must be done and no establishment is completely blameless, including L&D.
Whether intended or not, many of the learning systems, programs and resources that are put in place by L&D are not equally accessible to everyone across the board, especially those who are on the front line. And many occupations within front-line industries are made up of people of color. According to an April 2020 report by the Center for Economic and Policy Research, just over 41.2 percent of front-line workers are nonwhite. Meanwhile, a 2018 Deloitte study found that only 16.1 percent of board seats at Fortune 500 companies were held by nonwhites. The data is even more stark for Black workers specifically. A recent McKinsey & Co. report found that Black employees make up 14 percent of all employees. But at the managerial level, the Black workforce drops to 7 percent, and at the senior manager, vice president and senior vice president levels, it decreases further to 4-5 percent. If things remain the same, it will take 95 years for Black employees to reach talent parity with their white colleagues.
At best, we could chalk the reasoning for limited access to L&D resources to a limitation of budget resources and allocation. At worst, many L&D policies are simply racially exclusive. I myself have been guilty of this. While working in a Fortune 100 financial services firm leading learning technology and innovation, I rolled out advanced learning systems and robust learning content libraries to employees. When I hit a roadblock with call center and branch employees related to internet bandwidth, expanded costs of the libraries — and concerns about nonexempt labor costs — I decided to focus the offerings on exempt workers instead. I was convinced that these workers needed access to the programs the soonest, and I couldn’t wait for access problems to be resolved for front-line workers to launch these initiatives. At the time, I didn’t connect that by limiting the access for front-line or nonexempt workers, I also limited access for the company’s most diverse talent pool. This limited their mobility within the company.
Since then, I’ve tried to be more intentional about rooting out those kinds of systemic biases in my decision-making, and I hope I have become more mindful of my shortcomings. The reckoning has only just begun, though. I need to remain diligently aware of all the ways I could be unknowingly excluding people of color, and the same should go for L&D. The legacy structures and frameworks that have been put in place exclude front-line workers and, as such, exclude the majority of people of color in our workforce.
Even in the places where we have made investment in the front line, we’re hyperfocused on microlearning with programs teaching highly perishable skills around our companies’ processes and systems, not establishing the kinds of durable skills that are more transferrable to other roles. Skills development for the front line slightly resembles the old coal miners’ “company store,” where the value of the skills developed is limited to the organization and role they work in today, not building skills that set up employees for future mobility.
While the L&D industry did not create America’s race problem, we are in a unique position to do something about it. We can elevate the skills of all of our talent in a more equitable manner. And we have a professional, if not moral, mandate to dismantle the flawed system we helped build.
Shutting out those who would gain the most
Tuition reimbursement is a common form of an employer talent development investment. Those benefits often go to salaried employees who want to continue their higher education, not front-line employees who are most in need of new skills for economic and talent mobility. In a recent analysis of one company’s tuition reimbursement benefit, my team and I found that 88 percent of the cost went to full-time salaried employees, who comprise nearly 79 percent of the overall enrollment in the education benefit. As a result, this benefit isn’t serving those who could get the most out of it, particularly those who come from disadvantaged socioeconomic backgrounds or underrepresented minority groups.
In addition to who tuition reimbursement is offered to, the very model of tuition reimbursement perpetuates structural inequity. Instead of a debt-free or tuition assistance model, where the cost of education is paid up front, employees must first float the cost of tuition, fees and books. Although they are later reimbursed — usually only partially — by their employers, this arrangement unintentionally shuts out workers who are not high earners, are not able to take on more debt or do not have savings on hand. Indeed, even before the pandemic, the Federal Reserve reported in May 2019 that 40 percent of American workers did not have $400 in savings to pay for an unexpected expense, much less pay for tuition. This all leads to lower adoption and completion rates of education programs among diverse populations.
For workers who do decide to take on the debt for their education, students can incur as much as $20,000 to $40,000 in debt, according to a 2019 report by the Institute of College Access & Success, and in a recent analysis for a potential customer, we found that for every $1 invested by the company in tuition reimbursement, employees took on $5 in debt, with fewer than 10 percent reporting earning a credential over a three-year period. If our goal as talent development professionals is to leave folks better than we found them, this program is failing miserably.
Turning the tide: embracing populations and pathways
To rectify a potentially exclusive L&D approach, we need to support our front line by making learning programs and systems available to the widest population possible. This is not accomplished by any single action, but rather several, all of which help build a framework toward this goal.
Training centers, for instance, should be located in areas that are accessible by public transport. If they aren’t, employers should set up assistance and tools to help talent commute there. Consider how workers who are non-native English speakers will consume training materials and content too. Years ago, a business partner at a Fortune 100 firm and I were testing the use of an online game for a learning program. The game had a timed element to it and many workers piloting the program became nervous when playing. The front-line employees worked in retail in New York, and a large portion of them spoke English as a second language. The game was anxiety-inducing, a fact that initially eluded the project team who were all white, spoke English natively and worked in cities with low immigrant populations.
Be intentional about mixing different employees, whether of differing job levels or demographics, whenever cohorts are a part of the learning experience. This will help diverse talent establish the social networks they need to progress and avoid struggling with feelings of isolation. In the same McKinsey report, only 23 percent of Black employees say they believe they receive “a lot” or “quite a bit” of support from their employers to advance, compared with 30 percent of white workers. Employee resource groups can help sponsor, advertise and host learning events about leadership and communication for their members to create further opportunities for diverse talent to socialize and support one another.
Employees with various backgrounds and points of view should be brought in during review cycles and pilot programs to ensure many perspectives are included in feedback. If employees are uncomfortable sharing their thoughts and opinions with large audiences, use “divergent” brainstorming and discussion groups so they can share their feedback in smaller group settings. Consider methods that anonymize responses, as well.
Last, we can’t just remove barriers; we need to create intentional mobility. That comes by embracing and enabling a multistep process to path careers that are focused on elevating front-line employees. Employers can transition qualified entry- and mid-level workers into leadership roles. These destination roles have higher earning potential and serve as launchpads for even more upward mobility. With additional upskilling, such as an advanced credential or degree, a former front-line worker could ultimately land an in-demand, high-skill role. Over time, this results in a more diverse and equitable workforce up and down the organization.
The questions we must ask ourselves
Reforming L&D so that we can contribute to the creation of a more equitable workforce is a huge challenge. No one person, team or company will get it absolutely right. But striving for progress, not perfection, gives us a starting point toward a fairer future for everybody.
Success will require a kind of individual vigilance that constantly questions, evaluates and then reevaluates the structures in place that may be unintentionally discriminatory.
Take full stock of your workers and ask yourself: Are my trainers nonwhite? Are my instructional designers nonwhite? Are my learning business partners nonwhite? In order to create programs and development opportunities that accelerate opportunities for nonwhite employees, we need representation within L&D that bring perspectives we might not otherwise have. That means featuring not only BIPOC, but also more women and LGBTQ speakers at conferences and webinars. As a white male myself, I encourage you to look toward others learning leaders, like the work of Myra Roldan, Lori Niles-Hoffman, KimArie Yowell and Dr. Sydney Savion.
If you’re truly at a loss of where to begin, consider the words of influential management consultant Peter Drucker: “You can’t manage what you can’t measure.” Start tallying up the genders, races and ethnicities of your learning offerings’ registrations and completions and report on it. That way, you can evaluate your spend and program design across populations to identify whether certain groups are limited in access or outcomes. Industry reports in general should include gender, race and ethnicity as points by which we measure progress in our field. And as metrics improve, we must take it upon ourselves to do better now.
I can’t go back and correct the times I’ve shifted the most meaningful resources and tools away from nonexempt, and thereby the most diverse, employee populations. I deeply regret that my actions at the time unknowingly upheld the racial inequities embedded in L&D structures. Still, we all must acknowledge both our past and current blindspots if we want to move forward. Front-line workers are often the main source of a company’s diverse talent and they have been long overlooked by L&D investments and initiatives. The faster we recognize, support and elevate these employees as the wellspring of innovation that they are, the faster we can repair L&D’s broken systems, and the faster we’ll all be better off for it.
