The ad industry doesn't care about DEI (and it's getting harder to pretend it does)

My career in advertising could be described as a series of red flags, each bloodier and more crimson than the last.

As if, fresh from university, I stumbled upon a troll underneath Waterloo bridge who set me a series of dastardly challenges that would test my resilience and suck my soul for 17 years. Including, but not limited to; abusive clients, sexist leaders, harassment, humiliation, booze dependency, huge egos and zero sleep (but I’m saving the really dark stories for when I write my tell-all book and have excellent lawyers).

It wasn’t all bad! There were some fun parties. The ones that didn’t end in sexual assault, anyway.

But it wasn’t all bad! There were some fun parties. The ones that didn’t end in sexual assault, anyway. I was taken to Wimbledon and Glastonbury as a VIP. I travelled to some amazing places. Business parks in Weybridge, Slough and Uxbridge, to name a few. 

And I adored the pace and timeless buzz of receiving a brief and smashing it out the park every time. The thrill of a brand new insight. The wondrousness of seeing people talk about your work. Getting excited about big ideas and new technologies. Understanding a client’s business inside out and, when one of those clients was Nando’s, the bonus of free chicken. 

Above: Trying to entice children to smoke cigarettes was an ethical line that couldn't be crossed. 

But as my time in adland drew to a close, I became more sensitive to the ethical bends. As a head of strategy in Asia, I was asked by a tobacco association to write a strategy inspiring Indonesian millennials to start smoking. I said no. Another time, after being told by a famous brand in a global pitch that our idea was “way off” we saw the exact script on TV nine months later. Oh, and I once watched a senior woman get demoted because the CEO “just didn’t fancy” managing her. All the tribunals and NDAs; I saw them with my own eyes. 

The image of a famously tee-total Malala was a little strange in a campaign response for cheap vodka.

A seemingly inconsequential moment sticks in my head. In a planning meeting for an alcohol brand, a junior strategist presented a proposal to collaborate with a women’s magazine. 

“Feminism is on trend at the moment so we could use this to create engaging content,” they said. Red flag one. 

“Could you replace the word feminism with women’s interests?” asked one of the business leads. “We don’t want the brand to alienate anyone.” Red flag two. 

“And remove the image of Malala [Yousafzai]? She doesn’t look anything like our target audience,” laughed a managing partner. To be fair, the image of a famously tee-total Malala was a little strange in a campaign response for cheap vodka, but it was red flag three, nonetheless. And pretty typical.

Above: Kean describes her career in advertising as "a series of red flags".

That’s why I’ve never been convinced by the industry’s claim that diversity and inclusion is important. How, overnight, a workforce that had always been proudly exclusive and manipulative, so profoundly aggressive and ruthless, so overwhelmingly rich and male and white, suddenly cared about giving everybody a seat at the table. The people in power loved that fucking table. There was foie gras and a myriad of powerful substances spread across it. Why would they give it up? 

But over the last few years, adland’s been going hard with its declaration that everyone matters. You know the drill: rainbow logos, working groups, anti-harassment ad campaigns, panel sessions at Cannes. It’s amazing PR, though maybe less so when your DEI spokesperson is someone who sits on panels and announces that “it’s important, when it comes to inclusion, that the inclusion experience needs to be inclusive, from an inclusivity perspective”. Long on pledges, short on details. 

Over the last few years, adland’s been going hard with its declaration that everyone matters.

Chat GPT estimates (I know, I know, but I needed numbers) that taking into account:

• industry-wide and trade body initiatives
• agency-specific programs
• brand-led inclusive advertising and representation Initiatives
• internal corporate DEI strategies in agencies and media companies 

that we saw at least 300 - but potentially as many as 600 - DEI initiatives in UK advertising between 2019 and 2024. 

Of course, many of these initiatives have been quietly defunded, chief diversity officers have left their roles, and public pledges faded into corporate memory. According to a report from Resume.org, one in eight companies say they plan to weaken DEI commitments in 2025. Especially if you’re a megalomaniac digital platform leader trying to impress the president of the United States.

Above: Why would a workforce that's been proudly exclusive and manipulative, suddenly care about giving everybody a seat at the table.

If you’re the kind of person who believes what people say, like some foolish, gullible optimist, you’d be forgiven for buying it. For having faith that an industry with a reputation for fetishising white youth and making women hate themselves actually did want to change. But there’s the issue of proof. It’s a funny thing, proof. I’ve seen a few cop shows and murder mysteries in my time and, normally, proof – cold, hard, inarguable proof - tends to be tangible. Another word for proof is sometimes evidence. So where is it?

In the ad industry - aside from the work of a small group of genuine activists desperately trying not to piss off the people in power - DEI is just another campaign.

Well, let’s look at one key metric. Pay gaps. Money! The important shit we can’t live without. A sign of gratitude and value. With so much attention thrown at DEI and how inclusive adland is becoming, you’d assume the gender and ethnicity pay gaps would be obliterated by now. Yet, both the gender and ethnicity pay gaps widened last year. According to the latest IPA Agency Census, the gender pay gap increased from 15.2% in 2023 to 19.7% in 2024, in favour of men. The ethnicity pay gap increased from 21.6% in 2023 to 32.7%. 

So why the disconnect between noise and results? Because, in short, it’s the ad industry. The same industry that worships the dollar sign. The same industry for which image is everything. The same industry that cares for as long as a campaign is live, until it moves on to the next. In the ad industry - aside from the work of a small group of genuine activists desperately trying not to piss off the people in power - DEI is just another campaign. A big launch, free pastries and some backslaps. 

Above: Both the gender and ethnical pay gaps widened last year according to the latest IPA Census. 

In their latest column for Campaign [subscription required], Marty Davies (she/they), founder of Trans+ History Week and former CEO of Outvertising, discusses a pledge she organised two years ago, in which agencies committed to “divest from media that spreads hate and disinformation" related to the LGBTQIA+ community. Two years later, only one of the 10 signatories is even returning their calls. In “an industry full of vain and performative players concerned about their own image and reputation”, she argues, the vulnerable are feeling more vulnerable. The illusion of progress is making people unsafe. 

The reason the ad industry isn’t becoming more diverse and inclusive is because the majority don’t want it to.

The problem is that protecting minorities requires the majority to take an interest. And what’s the majority of adland? Well: only 20% of the workforce are from a working-class background, compared to 40% of the UK population. 76.1% of the workforce are white. 60.1% of senior positions are held by men (all in Agency Census 2024.) What picture does that paint for you? 

The reason the ad industry isn’t becoming more diverse and inclusive is because the majority don’t want it to. DEI is merely a subculture in a white male-rich industry. A niche. No industry can have a personality transplant that fast. It’d be like the entire House of Commons putting out a statement promising to only tell the truth from now on. Sounds lovely, is impossible. 

Above: The final boss in this game called DEI, is a white, middle class, straight man.

The final boss in this game is a white, middle class, straight man. And the task? Getting him to act. Because it’s this and this alone that’s getting in the way of progress. What do I mean by progress? Results. Numbers shifting. Pay gaps going down. Harassment cases going down. Representation from people outside of that core demographic going up. PROOF! 

As a middle class white man, if you’re not involved in diversity efforts, then you don’t want diversity.

You can launch as many groups and change as many logos as you like, but if the ones maintaining the status quo ain’t listening - if they’re resisting - then nothing will change. I started my own diversity organisation five years ago with some industry peers (getdice.co.uk) but eventually gave up because I got sick of hate mail from men called Steve. 

The minute those IPA pay gap numbers were released, our collective heads should have swung in the direction of the white men. Because, as a middle class white man, if you’re not involved in diversity efforts, then you don’t want diversity. It’s as straightforward as that. 

But it’s hard to say this, isn’t it? The fear of backlash and hate someone might receive for saying what I just said is significant. Ostracised, simply for accurately describing a situation. In social media, especially on LinkedIn, using the words “white men” is considered by many to be offensive. A slur. Why is it so terrifying to state facts?