Why Inclusion Needs More Than a Seat at the Table

For years, we’ve heard the call to “make space” and “amplify diverse voices.” In every workplace, from government departments to nonprofits and corporate boardrooms, inclusion has become a stated goal. But anyone who’s worked inside those spaces knows that inclusion doesn’t always mean transformation.

Sometimes it means being welcomed in, but only if you don’t challenge the way things are done. Sometimes it means being given a seat, but not a voice. Or being asked to speak, but only within the boundaries of what’s comfortable for those in power.

Inclusion on these terms often asks people to adjust. Adjust to codeswitch, to translate, to adapt, while the deeper power structures remain untouched. So, the problem isn’t just about access, it’s about power. And unless we’re willing to look at how power operates, how it shapes what is normal, who gets heard, and what kind of change is possible, we’ll keep circling the same conversations.

That’s why this article introduces a different way of thinking about inclusion. It’s not just about who is “in” and who is “out.” It’s about gravitational power: a force that holds the centre of our institutions, our meetings, our cultures. This gravitational pull isn’t always loud or aggressive. Often. it’s invisible. But it decides who gets to feel at home, whose voice is “credible,” and what stories we tell ourselves about fairness and change.

And if we want real inclusion, ethical, transformative inclusion, we need something more than goodwill or optics. We need ethical repositioning: the internal and external work of shifting ourselves away from the centre of comfort and towards a shared space of integrity and courage.

What Inclusion Often Misses

The language of inclusion is everywhere. But the practice often falls short. We hear phrases like “diversity and belonging” or “bring your whole self to work,” yet too often those messages mask an uncomfortable truth: people are still expected to conform to dominant norms in order to be accepted.

This is what makes performative inclusion so insidious. It looks right on the surface, statements, policies, perhaps even representation, but it doesn’t shift the underlying gravitational pull of the space. The terms of belonging are still set by the dominant group. Inclusion becomes conditional, and difference is tolerated rather than genuinely valued.

This is not to say that those promoting inclusion are insincere. Many are deeply committed. But too often the work stops at surface-level representation, or at strategies that assume inclusion is simply about adding in, rather than changing the structure itself.

The result? A revolving door of diverse hires who don’t stay. Communities consulted but not heard. Leadership programs that centre on confidence rather than power. And a growing fatigue among those asked to share their stories over and over again with little structural shift in return.

To move beyond this cycle, we need a new question, not “How do we include?” but “What needs to change at the centre to make inclusion real?”

That question doesn’t just point outward. It points inward. Because real inclusion, ethical inclusion, requires the people at the centre of power to do something far harder than listening it asks them to reposition themselves.

What Is Ethical Repositioning?

Ethical repositioning is the act of consciously shifting one’s stance, voice, or influence to make space for others, not as an act of charity, but as a recognition of where power lies and how it can be redistributed.

It begins with a simple but radical premise: inclusion is not neutral. It always involves a gravitational field, someone’s norms, language, and frameworks are setting the terms of belonging. If those at the centre don’t shift, then others are always doing the bending.

Repositioning asks: What would it mean for the centre to move? What would it mean for those with authority or cultural weight to name their position, decentre their voice, and open space for different truths, not as guest perspectives, but as co-foundational?

This isn’t about stepping aside entirely or surrendering leadership. It’s about leading differently, grounded in ethical clarity rather than control, in relational accountability rather than performance.

Repositioning can look like:

• A manager reframing a discussion to expose its bias before someone else must.

• A facilitator pausing a meeting to ask whose voice is missing and why.

• A leader acknowledging the harm caused by prior norms and inviting new ways forward even if that means letting go of familiar tools or language.

  
  

But ethical repositioning isn’t only about visible gestures. It’s also deeply internal. It requires the courage to confront your own attachments to authority, certainty, or control. It demands discernment, humility, and a willingness to be changed in the process, not just to make room for difference, but to be transformed by it.

This is how change becomes real, not when others are included, but when those at the centre learn how to ethically move.

 But knowing that ethical repositioning matters is not the same as knowing how to practice it. For many leaders, the challenge lies not in intention but in embodiment, how to act in ways that shift the gravitational centre of power without collapsing trust or coherence. Repositioning is not a single act but a repertoire of subtle, situational practices that reshape how space, voice, and legitimacy are distributed. What follows are four distinct postures of ethical repositioning, each offering a way to lead differently from within, and each grounded in a quiet refusal to preserve comfort at the expense of justice.

The Postures of Ethical Repositioning

1. The Reframer

This posture involves reshaping the dominant narrative. Reframers hear a familiar question, “How do we get more diverse people to apply?” and turn it on its axis. They ask instead, “Why haven’t people felt safe or welcome here to begin with?” They gently but firmly challenge the assumption beneath the conversation and redirect the focus toward structural responsibility.

It’s not about putting others on the defensive, it’s about nudging the frame so that power, not identity, is the thing being questioned.

2. The Deflector

Sometimes repositioning requires a redirection of attention. The Deflector doesn’t absorb credit or attention but instead uses moments of visibility to platform others. If invited to speak on behalf of a whole community, they might say, “That’s not mine to speak to, but here’s someone you should hear from.” They don’t erase themselves, they simply recognise when their voice is not the most needed one.

This posture is critical when inclusion is performative, when institutions seek to amplify marginalised perspectives without giving up control. The Deflector resists becoming the token by consciously repositioning the spotlight.

3. The Disruptor

This is the most courageous and potentially costly posture. The Disruptor interrupts harmful patterns in real time, not with aggression, but with principled clarity. They name the exclusion no one else will. They intervene in silence, not to dominate, but to hold a mirror to the room. Sometimes this is done with a sentence. Sometimes, just a look.

4. The Revealer

This posture is about surfacing what has been hidden in plain sight. The Revealer doesn’t create conflict they expose what is already causing harm but remains unacknowledged. When a policy assumes English fluency or a strategy assumes a nuclear family model, the Revealer gently asks, “Who might this leave out?” or “What are we assuming here that we haven’t made visible?”

The power of this posture is in making the implicit explicit. Not as a critique of individuals, but as an invitation to see what we’ve grown accustomed to overlooking. The Revealer works not by accusation but by illumination.

What makes these postures powerful is not that they guarantee change but that they shift the gravitational field. They open a crack in the dominant logic and make room for something else to emerge.

The Inner Work of Ethical Repositioning

Ethical repositioning cannot be sustained by intellectual clarity alone. It requires internal transformation, a recalibration of one’s ethical and emotional compass. While the outward actions of repositioning may take the form of reframing a conversation, amplifying a voice, or resisting a norm, these gestures are only coherent when they are rooted in a deeper inner shift.

This work often begins with discomfort. For those in proximity to the dominant centre, repositioning may provoke unease, not because it is wrong, but because it reveals where we’ve grown accustomed to comfort at the expense of others. The discomfort signals misalignment; rather than being dismissed, it must be welcomed as a diagnostic cue. It is here that ethical integrity starts to grow.

From there, the journey moves inward: a process of self-interrogation, an honest examination of how one’s own status, identity, or habits have been shaped by proximity to power. What have I normalised? What have I protected? What have I overlooked in the name of pragmatism? These are not abstract questions. They shape the tone and trustworthiness of our leadership.

This work also demands a form of moral courage, an ability to act even when the immediate reward is unclear, or when it runs counter to institutional incentives. Leaders who reposition ethically may risk being seen as disruptive, naive, or even disloyal to their own peers. That risk is real. But what they gain in return is a rare coherence: a way of leading that is internally aligned, ethically intelligible, and resistant to co-option.

Ethical repositioning is not heroic. It is vulnerable, uncertain, and often slow. But over time, it builds something more durable than inclusion checklists or performance pledges. It cultivates people who are not just saying the right things but becoming the kind of people who can hold space for a different kind of future.

Repositioning as a Practice of Leadership and Inclusion

The internal shifts of ethical repositioning must eventually translate into leadership practice. But this isn’t leadership as command, as charisma, or as performance. It’s leadership as ethical alignment, holding space for others, modelling coherence, and shifting the gravitational field of what feels possible in a room, a workplace, a community.

Leading through repositioning means being willing to go first, not in dominance, but in vulnerability. It means reframing conversations that have grown stale or extractive. It means stepping back so that others can step in, without needing to be praised for the gesture. It’s about nurturing a culture where dignity isn’t earned through assimilation but recognised as already present.

This is where inclusion becomes real. Not when it’s plastered on the walls or embedded in policy language, but when the leaders themselves begin to shift their posture, less gatekeeping, more listening; less defending, more discerning; less centralising, more circulating. That shift cannot be faked. It is felt. And it invites others to show up differently too.

Ethical repositioning is not the endpoint. It’s part of the larger arc of reconfiguring power itself, moving from performative gestures to structural change. But it matters deeply, because the people closest to the dominant centre are the ones with the most leverage to shift the system and often the least guidance on how to do it with integrity.

This work doesn’t require perfection. It asks only for clarity, commitment, and a willingness to be reshaped. And in a time when inclusion is too often reduced to slogans or numbers, ethical repositioning offers a deeper invitation: not just to include more people in the old centre, but to transform what the centre is and who it serves.