The Promises and Perils of Representation

In today's rapidly evolving cultural landscape, terms like "diversity," "equity," and "inclusion" (DEI) have become ubiquitous in discussions about workplaces, education, media, and even evangelical Christians institutions. These concepts are often presented as essential tools for building a more just society, yet their meanings and implications can vary widely depending on the underlying worldview. 

As someone deeply engaged in conversations about a biblical approach to cultural analysis, I've spent considerable time exploring how these ideas intersect with Christian principles. This article builds on a previous discussion about diversity, shifting focus to its close companion: representation. I'll examine its origins, its expression under the influence of critical social theories, and the potential pitfalls when it becomes an all-encompassing lens for understanding human interactions. I'll also ground this discussion in Scripture, asking how the Bible's vision of justice and human dignity speaks to these modern concepts. 

Diversity as the Foundation for Representation

Diversity, in its simplest form, is about assembling people from varied backgrounds—racial, cultural, socioeconomic, and more—into shared spaces like workplaces or communities. Representation takes this concept a step further, ensuring that these diverse voices aren't just present but are actively contributing, especially at leadership levels. It's not merely about entry; it's about influence and visibility. As an idea, representation starts with good intentions but can lead to complex, sometimes contradictory outcomes. 

Representation builds directly on diversity. If diversity is the doorway inviting people in, representation is the mechanism that sustains their presence and amplifies their impact. In organizational terms, it's about ensuring that individuals from underrepresented groups aren't confined to entry-level roles but are visible and influential across all departments and hierarchies. This article from Gloat.com provides a typical description about the connection between diversity and representation: "Diversity is about bringing people together from all walks of life... Representation ensures that these diverse employees and their viewpoints can be found or depicted across all departments and seniority levels within the organization."

DEI trainers will tell CEOs and workplaces that diversity ought to be a big priority, but they will also say that these efforts fall short when they don’t address representation. True change requires more than recruitment; it demands structural shifts to foster meaningful participation. Having representatives from an array of historically marginalized groups in top level leadership is a vital part of reaching these goals.

The Core Problem: Whiteness 

To understand representation as a "cure," we must first identify the "ailment" it aims to address. DEI advocates—even Christian ones—often point to "whiteness" as the root issue. This is a term that encapsulates the values, culture, and practices of Western civilization. At its worst, whiteness is portrayed as inherently racist; at its best, it's criticized for lacking diversity.

In antiracist frameworks, popularized by scholars like Ibram X. Kendi and Robin DiAngelo, whiteness refers to how white people's customs, culture, and beliefs serve as the societal standard against which all others are measured. This normalization, they argue, has historically positioned nonwhite individuals as inferior (or abnormal), perpetuating racism. 

The (now infamous) infographic published in 2020 by the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture defined it as a "White dominant culture" that grants advantages to white people, allowing them to navigate society feeling and being viewed as "normal."

(Here is the landing page from the web archive. And here is the page on whiteness.) White individuals are seen as rarely contemplating their racial identity because it's the cultural default. 

This infographic illustrates aspects and assumptions of what is seen as “whiteness” and “white culture” in the United States. It includes traits like rugged individualism, self-reliance, the nuclear family (husband as breadwinner, wife as homemaker), emphasis on the scientific method, Protestant work ethic ("hard work is the key to success"), future orientation ("tomorrow will be better"), and even bland "steak and potatoes" aesthetics. Holidays based on Christian traditions and male leaders, competition ("be number one at all costs"), and communication norms like the "King's English" and politeness were also listed. 

What's striking is how many of these elements align with Judeo-Christian influences on Western society: the nuclear family (Genesis 2:24), respect for authority (Romans 13:1-7), private property (Exodus 20:15,17), and a work ethic echoing biblical principles like sowing and reaping (Proverbs; Galatians 6:7-9). Dismantling whiteness, then, risks eroding foundational aspects of the value system that built the West. From a scriptural perspective, this critique of "whiteness" borders on a form of idolatry when it elevates the power of social structures above God's sovereignty. 

The Bible warns against judging merely by outward appearances or human standards (1 Samuel 16:7), and it identifies sin—not any particular culture—as the true root of injustice (Romans 3:23). True oppression stems from the fall (Genesis 3), affecting all humanity, not just specific groups. Christians must discern where cultural critiques reveal real sin, like historical racism, while rejecting narratives that demonize elements of God's common grace in Western society.

The Cure: Representation

If whiteness is the problem, representation—paired with diversity—is seen as the solution. The goal is to allow minority individuals to "see themselves" in various contexts, fostering belonging, while cultivating empathy among white people. This involves people in power (especially white people and heteronormative men) elevating underrepresented voices (various oppressed minority groups) in order to dismantle the perceived dominance of whiteness.

The concept of representation is often traced back to a foundational essay in 1990 by Dr. Rudine Sims Bishop, "Mirrors, Windows, and Sliding Glass Doors," published under the Reading Is Fundamental initiative. Bishop argued for diverse children's literature reflecting the multicultural world. Books serve as "mirrors" for minority children, affirming their experiences and reducing feelings of isolation: "Literature transforms human experience and reflects it back to us, and in that reflection, we can see our own lives... as part of the larger human experience." For white children, books act as "windows," offering glimpses into other lives to build understanding and counteract ethnocentrism.

Bishop highlighted the scarcity of books about minorities in the 1970s and 1980s, noting that without positive representations, children learn they are devalued. Dominant groups, she said, always find mirrors but lack windows into others' realities. This essay laid the groundwork for representation in education, emphasizing empathy and interconnectedness: "When there are enough books available that can act as both mirrors and windows for all our children, they will see that we can celebrate both our differences and our similarities."

Christian DEI advocates would likely connect the mirrors-and-windows metaphor to the biblical call for empathy, as in Hebrews 13:3: "Continue to remember those in prison as if you were together with them in prison, and those who are mistreated as if you yourselves were suffering." What is often not addressed is how compassion can easily devolve to include calls for representation from other religions, sexual orientations and gender identities. In education, for example, organizations like the American Library Association and the National Education Association advocate for books featuring LGBTQ+ characters, arguing they provide mirrors for "sexual minority" youth and windows for others. 

Here is where Christians must exercise caution. While virtues like compassion and mercy are biblical, affirming identities or behaviors contrary to Scripture—such as those in the LGBTQ+ spectrum—can lead to compromise. The Bible upholds God's design for sexuality (Genesis 1:27; Romans 1:26-27) and warns against conforming to worldly patterns of thinking (Romans 12:2; 2 Cor. 10:5; Col. 2:8). Representation that promotes such ideologies prioritize cultural affirmation over biblical principles can quickly downgrade historically conservative Christian institutions into progressive sensibilities.

Representation in the Workplace

In professional settings, diversity hiring isn’t seen as adequate to achieve equity. This is where representation comes into the institutional practices. Representation ensures that members of underrepresented groups aren’t merely hired, but also advance to leadership. It demands that members of historically marginalized groups be visibly present—and empowered—in positions of leadership, decision-making, and influence.

When employees from underrepresented groups look up the organizational ladder and do not see “people like them” in senior roles, they frequently perceive limited advancement opportunities. This perception can lead to disengagement, lower morale, and higher turnover, as documented in countless corporate DEI reports and articles. Conversely, promotions signal growth opportunities to lower ranking employees as well as prospective employees.

The prevailing DEI framework does not treat representation as a neutral or purely merit-based goal. It operates within a “matrix of oppression” that sorts individuals into privileged oppressors and marginalized victims across intersecting identity categories: race, sex, gender, sexual orientation, class, ability, religion, and age.

Typical “privileged” categories include:

• White

• Male

• Cisgender

• Heterosexual

• Christian

• Middle- or owning-class

• Able-bodied

• Middle-aged

• English-speaking

Typical “targeted” or “underrepresented” categories include:

• People of color

• Women

• Transgender or gender-nonconforming individuals

• LGBTQ+ people

• Working-class or poor

• Disabled

• Religious minorities (historically Jews, Muslims, Hindus)

• Very young or very old (categories that shift over time)

Success at many companies is measured by the number of "targeted" employees who are in leadership and promotion pipelines. The goal is not to simply engage in "diverse hiring" at entry levels. Equity is achieved when members of "underrepresented" groups are promoted to senior roles. Many organizations now track and report on the percentage of “targeted group” members in C-suite, board, and executive positions.

When hiring and advancement is explicitly tied to demographic identity, it can result in a system where merit, experience, and character becomes subordinated to meeting representational quotas. This can lead to problems in work culture, such as resentment among those who feel overlooked, suspicion about the qualifications of those who are promoted, and a subtle pressure on leaders from marginalized groups to conform to the prevailing ideological narrative in order to maintain their positions.

It can also lead to unqualified hiring. A particularly stark example of this came to light in early 2025 when a 2019 promotional video from the Los Angeles Fire Department resurfaced and went viral amid devastating wildfires in the region.In the clip, Assistant Chief Kristine Larson—an openly lesbian officer who spearheads the LAFD's DEI efforts and oversees its Equity and Human Rights Bureau—defends the department's focus on diverse hiring.

When addressing concerns about physical capability, she is asked if she could carry a victim's husband out of a burning building. Her response: "He got himself in the wrong place if I have to carry him out of a fire." She further emphasizes that victims supposedly feel more "at ease" when rescuers "look like" them, implying shared identity or appearance builds trust more than raw competence.

When representation is applied to hiring—especially in life-or-death fields like firefighting or airplane pilots—it is not uncommon for it to look and sound something like this: prioritizing a firefighter (or pilot) who "looks like" the community over whether they can actually execute the job's demanding physical requirements.When representation devolves into valuing surface-level resemblance over qualifications, strength, and proven ability, it doesn't just lack common sense—it becomes potentially dangerous, undermining public safety and trust in critical institutions.

It's also important to consider an often unspoken component of these practices: representation is not merely about demographic membership. It also involves ideological alignment. A Black conservative like Larry Elder, or my ministry partner Monique, would not typically qualify as “good” examples of representation. Their personal convictions—particularly their rejection of the matrix-of-oppression framework—disqualify them from being seen as authentic representatives of DEI goals and values. This ideological gatekeeping transforms representation from genuine inclusion into enforcement of specific viewpoints.

The Slippery Slope

The idea of representation started by Dr. Bishop's essay in 1990 has evolved to touch many areas of our everyday life. We may not even be aware how we have been shaped by the idea of representation.

And not all representation is bad. There is a softer, more inspirational side to representation that many of us can appreciate. Stories of individuals overcoming significant obstacles—like Bethany Hamilton, the surfer who returned to competition after losing an arm to a shark attack—can genuinely motivate others facing similar challenges. The 1980s show Life Goes On, with its Down syndrome character Corky, humanized people with intellectual disabilities at a time when such portrayals were rare. More recently, I was quietly encouraged by seeing an older woman playing lead guitar in a Johnny Cash cover band; it spoke directly to my own insecurities about aging in ministry.

These kinds of examples remind us that representation can inspire and affirm human dignity.

Products like multicultural crayons or skin-tone-matched band-aids can be a positive expression of care for a diverse customer base. Publishers can decide whether there is a market for medical textbooks (which have long defaulted to illustrations featuring white anatomy) to include more black models. Members of a particular ethnic group can decide whether to pool their resources in order to increase their representation in local politics. Having a goal that local government reflects the broader community seems fair and reasonable. Such instances to promote representation ought to be free-will decisions that aren't coerced by the government.

But when representation is framed within the DEI “matrix of oppression,” it can quickly degenerate into a slippery slope that intentionally omits the faces of so-called privileged people: white, heteronormative, Christian men. For example, I’ve noticed how marketing imagery reflects the ethos of representation. Whenever Monique (my ministry partner) and I fly on Delta, we have to sit through the safety video before the flight. It’s basically a parade of representation from historically marginalized groups telling us to fasten our seat belts and how to exit the plane if there is an emergency: the gay flight attendant, the Muslim woman flight attendant, the white female pilot. But there is no straight, white, masculine-presenting male in the video.

Similarly, when I search for stock images for “multiethnic family” or “interethnic friendship” for ministry social media graphics, the results overwhelmingly feature couples or groups from the LGBTQ+ community, Black women, or other historically marginalized identities—while straight white men appear only if they fit another “targeted” category (e.g., disabled, elderly, or poor). 

Representation brings special challenges to historically conservative Christian institutions. The logic demands that historically marginalized groups must be represented in every sphere—including leadership. Then why limit the principle to race, ethnicity, or gender? Consistency requires extending the same logic to sexual minorities, members of other religious traditions, or any group deemed “targeted” by the oppression framework. Progressive denominations and organizations have already moved in this direction, often embracing LGBTQ+ leadership and interfaith inclusivity as natural extensions of representation.

This is where evangelical institutions face a difficult reality. Scripture sets clear qualifications for leadership—elders and overseers must be “above reproach,” faithful to sound doctrine, and exhibit godly character (Titus 1:6–9; 1 Tim. 3:1–7). These standards are not about demographic checkboxes; they prioritize fidelity to the core doctrines of the Faith and the ability to shepherd the flock. When representation is elevated to a moral imperative that overrides or competes with these biblical criteria, the result can be a dilution of historic Christian conviction. Churches, ministries, and Christian colleges risk becoming places where conflicting worldviews are given equal standing—not out of love or hospitality, but out of ideological consistency with the oppression matrix.

The tension is real: representation can inspire and affirm human worth, but when it is tethered to a framework that reorders reality around a socially weighted identity rather than God’s truth, it can lead to a gradual erosion of human dignity for members of the "privileged" groups and undermine the core distinctives that define biblically faithful communities.

A Christian Perspective

From a Christian perspective, these kinds of practices raise serious concerns. When practiced within the prevailing DEI framework, representation often prioritizes elevating members of targeted groups, often at the expense of—or by de-emphasizing—those from privileged categories. Biblically, this approach stands in tension with Scripture’s repeated warnings against unjust favoritism (Ex. 23:3; Lev. 19:15; James 2:1–9). As Christians, we cannot rectify historical injustices by installing new forms of injustice in their place. Scripture calls for impartial judgment and equal treatment before God, not perpetual division by socially weighted identity categories where unequal value is assigned to some groups but not others. Scripture calls us to pursue justice, but it does so through impartiality, humility, and love—not by creating new hierarchies of privilege and disadvantage. True representation in leadership should value the gifts God has given them, not for the boxes they check on a demographic scorecard.

Personally, I'm skeptical of representation as a necessity for psychological or professional success. Data touting its benefits often assumes a sensibility of social programming where people have already been conditioned to need it. This unquestioned presupposition fails to measure whether mindset, identity, or worldview matter more. It also conditions people to think that it is more necessary for success than it really is. As a seminary pioneer in a male-dominated field, I succeeded without mirrors. There were literally no inerrancy-believing female theologians working in evangelical seminaries for me to look up to when I was going through my Master’s programs in the early to mid-90s. But my strong will, combined with my trust in the Lord’s sovereign plan, has taken me on a pretty amazing journey.

My seminary journey—surrounded by male classmates and professors—illustrates a deeper truth that the “matrix of oppression” approach to representation often obscures. Human beings are not merely the sum of socially constructed categories. There are universal realities that bind every person across time, place, and culture: the ache to be truly known and loved, the alienation we feel from ourselves, from others, and ultimately from God because of our fallen human condition.

For example, if a black female English major complained that C.S. Lewis’s writings failed to “represent” her because the author was a mid-century white Oxford don, a wiser mentor should rightly challenge such shallow ethnic narcissism. The same would be true for a white male reader of Amy Tan's work. Great literature endures precisely because it articulates universal human themes that transcend race, sex, culture, era, and geography. Tragically, much of the modern academy has swallowed a distorted version of representation that reduces people to their group identities and encourages them to read everything—and everyone—through the narrowest tribal lens. No one’s dignity, worth, or identity should ever be tethered to the demographic boxes they check. Our primary and most fundamental identity is not our ethnicity, male or female, oppressed or oppressor, but human—created in the image of God but fallen.

There is also a practical reality that rarely gets acknowledged in these conversations: there simply aren’t enough Black Americans to fill leadership roles in every field at levels of proportional representation. According to the U.S. Census, Black Americans make up roughly 13–14% of the total population—but only about 7% of the working-age population (ages 18–64) when accounting for age distribution. Yet DEI frameworks often demand that Black individuals be proportionally represented in C-suites, boardrooms, faculty positions, executive roles, and every other visible leadership space across industries. The math does not add up. To achieve “equitable” representation everywhere would require either drawing the same small pool of qualified Black professionals into multiple high-level positions simultaneously or lowering standards to artificially inflate the numbers—both of which undermine the very meritocracy that many DEI advocates claim to support. This demographic limitation reveals a deeper problem: the pursuit of perfect representational parity across every sphere is not just challenging; it is mathematically unfeasible without coercive measures or tokenism.

When representation prioritizes identity over character or gifting, it may conflict with the biblical precedent of choosing leaders based on certain qualifications (e.g., 1 Timothy 3; Titus 1). God emphasizes things like integrity, self-control, and wisdom rather than demographic checkboxes. We have literally had pastors call the ministry asking us if we maintain "a list of black pastors" that they could use for diversity recruiting. This is not a biblical way of hiring. Dismantling "whiteness" should not be the goal. Representation shouldn't override qualifications, Godly character or sound doctrine.

In conclusion, there is a version of representation that can be noble—one that fosters inspiration and empathy. But without biblical guardrails, it can easily morph into a tool for ideological conformity controlled by the principles of the contemporary critical social theories. Christians must engage these matters thoughtfully, asking for definitions and evidence, anchored in Scripture. As Colossians 2:8 cautions, "See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ."