Note: for the second time in as many articles, I'm starting with a footnote. You're welcome, I guess. I ummed and aahed about whether or not to actually publish this, having written it and then started a replacement. It's possibly not my best work, and possibly not as useful as it could be if I applied a few more drafts. I do, however, think it speaks to a point that I've been making intermittently for the past four or five years: the potential but unrealised value of learning at work from a societal perspective.
For the vast majority of us, the working world will be our single biggest contact with the most diverse groups of people in our lives. It is therefore the ideal place for learning about other people and how to work with them and co-exist with them. When this doesn't happen or when this opportunity is not taken, as I would argue it has not been effectively taken, we get what we have seen in the last few weeks.
I've spent the last few weeks watching my country embarrass itself spectacularly. Mobs draped in flags they don't understand, screaming about a "Christian nation" that hasn't existed since Henry VIII had his marital difficulties, attacking people who've already endured more fear and hatred than anyone should face. It's been profoundly shameful to watch.
When I don't know what to do about something, I tend to sit and think, and here's what I keep circling back to: this isn't really about politics or immigration or any of the surface issues being shouted about. It's about something much more fundamental that we see played out in boardrooms and training sessions every day. It's about what happens when people refuse to let facts interfere with their feelings.
The 6 and 9 Problem
There's a classic thought experiment that's become tediously overused in the corporate world: two people stand on opposite sides of a number painted on the floor. One sees a 6, the other sees a 9. The suggested conclusion? Neither is wrong; they're just seeing things from different perspectives.

Bollocks.
Sometimes it's a 6. Sometimes it's a 9. The answer isn't to split the difference and call it 7.5, or to celebrate the beautiful diversity of numerical interpretation. The answer is to find out which one it actually is. Check the context. Look for other indicators. Ask the person who painted it. Do the work required to determine what's true rather than what's comfortable.
This obsession with treating every disagreement as a matter of perspective rather than fact has infected how we approach learning and development. We've become so concerned with respecting different viewpoints that we've forgotten some viewpoints are simply wrong, and saying so isn't mean-spirited; it's necessary.
Note: This does not mean behaving like an arse. It is entirely possible to say that someone is incorrect, mistaken, misled, or misinformed without belittling or demeaning them. In fact, this is the foundation of education. You cannot learn without, at some point, being wrong, not knowing, or being incorrect. It is essential in learning anything, developing any skill, or gaining any knowledge. And if we are doing our job correctly, this is not something anyone around us will fear.
When We Choose Comfort Over Truth
We see this pattern repeatedly in our own professional practice. Learning styles persist despite decades of research showing they don't work because telling people their preferred learning style doesn't matter feels harsh. We keep using the forgetting curve even though it's based on questionable memorisation studies because Hermann Ebbinghaus sounds more authoritative than "we don't actually know much about workplace knowledge retention."
We design training around Kirkpatrick's four levels because it feels comprehensive, despite the model's obvious flaws and lack of support. We implement 70:20:10 frameworks because the numbers feel precise, regardless of the fact that they're based on a 1980s qualitative study that never claimed these ratios applied universally.
When someone presents evidence that challenges our favourite frameworks, we often respond with variations of "that's an interesting perspective" or, “we I just use it as a guide…” rather than "let's find out if this is actually true." We treat methodology like opinion and research like preference.
Note: whilst there is a simplistic parallel here with the societal situation I have mentioned, it is not by any means direct. I would never charge those who might harbour a soft spot for learning styles with the same level of disregard for the truth. But it is important to acknowledge that at a foundational level, the same willingness to place how we feel about something above facts is at play.
My DEI Frustration
Which brings us to the most uncomfortable truth of all: our current approach to diversity, equity, and inclusion training clearly isn't working. We've been running these programmes in British workplaces for well over a decade now. We've delivered countless sessions on unconscious bias, cultural awareness, and respectful workplace behaviour.
And yet here we are, watching the same prejudices and hatred play out in our communities with depressing predictability.
This isn't happening because we're trying to do something bad. It's happening because what we're doing is demonstrably ineffective. We're still treating complex social and psychological issues like they can be solved with a quick e-learning module and an annual reminder to "be nice to people who are different."
The evidence from recent events suggests that surface-level training doesn't change deeply held beliefs or emotional responses. If anything, it might make people better at hiding their prejudices whilst leaving the underlying attitudes untouched. We're ticking boxes whilst the house burns down around us.
Note: to be clear, this is not one of those arguments to say that this ground should be entirely seeded and that we should simply say there's nothing we can do. As I've been saying for some time, we need to challenge ourselves not to do more but to do more effective things. I would argue, I think reasonably, that a lot of L&D-led or shaped DEI activity is predominantly what I would describe as feel-good activity. Whether it's workshops or modules or events whose primary output is to make L&D, HR, and senior leaders feel all warm and fuzzy inside because they've done a good thing. All the while, as evidenced throughout the working world and society at large, we are having minimal impact.
The Learning We Actually Need
Change requires work. It means creating environments where people can safely examine their own assumptions, where facts matter more than feelings, and where being wrong is seen as an opportunity for growth rather than a personal attack.
It means designing training experiences that acknowledge the difference between perspective and fact, between opinion and evidence. Sometimes the research is clear: diversity improves decision-making, inclusive teams outperform homogeneous ones, and treating people with dignity isn't just morally right, it's practically beneficial.
We need to stop pretending that every viewpoint deserves equal consideration when some viewpoints are contradicted by evidence. We need to become comfortable with saying "actually, that's not how this works" when people's preferred approaches conflict with what we know about human behaviour and organisational effectiveness.
Most importantly, we need to acknowledge that changing minds requires more than changing training content. It requires changing systems, cultures, and the environmental factors that reinforce the very attitudes we're trying to address.
Note: Much of this is not under the direct control of the average L&D team. That is not a reason for said L&D team to turn a blind eye to it. Even when we do not have direct control, we have an almost unparalleled level of access and influence in most organisations. We often exist outside of the standard company structure, in the same way that many other support functions do. We are often able to traverse company lines that other departments may struggle to navigate. We must choose to use this advantage if we are to have any meaningful impact in this particular area.
The mobs waving flags don't need better training about perspective-taking, unconscious bias, or empathy. They need to learn that facts exist independently of their feelings about them, and, I might suggest, that being British means something rather more dignified than what they've been demonstrating. Or at least, I hope it does.


Super post, my friend!