We keep hearing that Indiana is moving away from diversity, equity, and inclusion and pivoting toward a new standard, merit, excellence and innovation. At first glance, that sounds like progress. After all, what business leader would not want the most qualified people in the room? As I listened to the conversation, I found myself asking a much simpler question. What do we actually mean by merit?
“… under the banner of merit, we often reward familiarity.”
If merit truly meant identifying the most capable people, our institutions, businesses and state contracts would consistently discover excellence wherever it exists. Instead, under the banner of merit, we often reward familiarity. That distinction matters.
We often think of policy as something created at the Statehouse. Yet policy exists anywhere someone decides how opportunity is distributed. Every hiring process is a policy. Every procurement scorecard is a policy. Every definition of executive presence is a policy. Every decision about who is considered a good fit is a policy. Policies shape participation, and participation shapes outcomes.
A mediocre system is not built because mediocre people occupy it. A mediocre system is built when it limits who gets to compete.
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Imagine building a house in downtown Indianapolis and allowing only a handful of people to pour the foundation, frame the walls and design the blueprint year after year. They may be great builders. The problem is not their ability. The problem is everyone else was left standing outside the gate. Years later, we wonder why the house lacks strength, why innovation slowed and why the same structural problems remain unsolved. The answer is not that we lacked talent. The answer is that we limited participation.
When we narrow competition, we do not increase excellence.
Economies work the same way. Every perspective excluded is an innovation delayed. Every voice dismissed is a solution never explored. Every entrepreneur overlooked is an idea that never reaches the market. When we narrow competition, we do not increase excellence. We reduce the probability of discovering it.
Imagine a pond filled with ducks. Generation after generation, every duck believes success looks like another duck. Then one day, a swan arrives. Instead of asking, ‘What can we learn from the swan?’ the ducks ask, ‘Why doesn’t it belong here?’ The swan is not rejected because it lacks value. It is rejected because its presence challenges the pond’s definition of what belongs.
The tragedy is not simply that the swan leaves. The tragedy is that the pond never discovers what becomes possible when different ways of seeing, thinking and solving problems share the same water. Healthy ecosystems are never built on sameness. Neither are thriving economies.
Perhaps that is the greatest confusion of all. We are told that narrowing the gate protects excellence. What if narrowing the gate quietly protects mediocrity instead? Maybe excellence has never depended on limiting who gets to compete. Maybe excellence has always depended on widening the competition so the best ideas, regardless of where they originate, have the opportunity to emerge. That is not lowering the standard. It is finally allowing the standard to discover everything it has been missing.
