Publishing’s Diversity Problem: The Great POC Departure
Working in publishing taught me that words can become meaningless. ‘Committed to change!’ ‘Championing diverse voices!’ ‘Striving for inclusion!’ These well-intentioned declarations were inescapable — in meetings, emblazoned on cute infographics and reiterated in compulsory ‘Unlearning Unconscious Bias’ courses. Yet, the publishing world seems incapable of holding on to its non-white employees. A recent report by the Publishers Association exposed a ‘disappointing’ 2% drop in the industry’s (already modest) ethnic minority representation in 2024.
Like many creative fields in the UK, without connections, publishing is a notoriously difficult industry to break into, but publishing houses — particularly in the wake of the 2020 BLM movement — and charities such as Creative Access have increased transparency around hiring protocols and made concerted efforts to ensure underrepresented publishing hopefuls have better opportunity to get in.
Many POC are hired in entry level positions, often as assistants, hungry and hoping to play a part in shaping the literary landscape. But that landscape is filled with plot holes. It quickly becomes apparent that the industry is thrilled to get you in the room, but will do nothing to ensure you stay there. Firstly, the teams we enter will contain no one who looks like us, and not one senior member of the entire house will be non-white. Then, our names are confused with the one other POC in another department, with whom we share no similarities to other than the same colour skin.
What begins as imperceptible moments that you shrug off become clear patterns of behaviour. Next, we will be asked to undertake a sensitivity read — a task that is not in the job description and will not be given to our white counterparts. Certain campaigns will be given to us because of the book’s racial component and we will be typecast as someone to default all non-white authors to. Simultaneously, non-whiteness is exploited for their potential profit, but ignored at our personal expense.
What happens when microaggressions are repeatedly brushed off? Slaps on the wrist with personal assurances that a repeat offender is not ill-intentioned. When racist behaviour is allowed to continue over years, perhaps decades, with little to no to repercussions, it means that the fish is rotten from the head down. It also means that POC are not safe.
There are mediums through which to discuss these issues, such as diversity groups, HR, wider panel discussions. However, the issue is that it swiftly become a point of frustration as the same conversations boomerang around different departments, only to land exactly where we started: with ourselves, who as junior staff, are navigating unknown territory and wield very little power in terms of implementing change. While it can be encouraging that senior staff are listening and reading various reports, the truth of the matter still lingers: that they have been evading these grievances for years as nothing seems to be tangibly acted upon. We are consistently given lip service about caring for all employees and a continued commitment to diversity, which is just corporate jargon meant to placate us, and requires no introspection on the company’s part.
Ask any POC in any publishing department, from Editorial to Marketing to Agenting to Design, and their experience will be a variation of this. That is not to say there are no positive experiences, it is more to highlight that there is an undeniable truth within this industry that POC should contort themselves to fit into structures that do nothing to accommodate them.
Many of us enter this publishing world because of our genuine love for books and these experiences as a junior staff member can create such disillusion, as you try to love an industry that seems intent on not loving you back. Publishing is generally a tough business for anyone, regardless of background. With long hours, poor pay and difficult career progression, burnout is always on the horizon. For POC, in addition to this, there is the added mental exhaustion of being consistently othered.
Ultimately, publishing is a business. However, from even the most cold, corporate viewpoint, it seems imperative to ensure retention rates amongst staff of colour. A more diverse workforce allows for a range of perspectives, an understanding of nuances and fostering of creativity. We do a disservice to the audiences and authors we represent if our personnel do not reflect them. POC becoming disenchanted and subsequently leaving publishing careers prematurely only impedes the growth of the industry.
And ironically, books such as Yellowface, Luster and The Other Black Girl, as well as the Oscar-nominated American Fiction (based on the novel Erasure) have all been hugely successful amongst publishing employees, and with consumers. All these books expose an unseemly truth beneath the publishing industry’s twee and wholesome veneer, grappling with its lack of diversity and the implications of not addressing these shortcomings; it seems terrified of facing its own reflection. It would rather bury its head in the pages of these books without acknowledging that such fiction is not so far from fact.
The industry always seems to be nervously stumbling towards change, but it desperately needs to hurtle towards a reckoning. Until then, the doors will keep opening for POC, but once we are in — the room remains unread.
By Anonymous