The limitations of allyship

In 2020, HuffPost reported that 82% of white men and 81% of white women perceive themselves as strong allies to historically excluded colleagues. Fast Company

More people than ever before identify as allies.

Allies are people who support and stand up for the rights and dignity of others, especially those from marginalized groups. And yet, the effectiveness of allyship in achieving equity and parity is nonexistent.

Allyship has not closed the gender wage and opportunity gap.

Allyship has not put more money in the hands of female entrepreneurs, even as more and more women are turning towards entrepreneurship. That figure is sliding backwards.

Allyship isn’t creating a safer world for LGBTQIA folx. As I write this, there are 633 anti-lgbtqia bills moving through various state legislatures.

Allyship has become an identity that allows people with privilege to feel good about theoretically supporting the rights of people who are marginalized (or even seeing themselves as marginalized), while feigning powerlessness, unable to take meaningful action.

1. Allyship is optional for people with privileged identities

True allyship, by its very nature, is often a choice rather than a necessity for those with privileged identities - white, cis, able bodied, neurotypical.

In most instances what passes as allyship is just common sense and care, it’s being a thoughtful colleague, a good neighbor. Something we extend to others in our privileged bubble without a thought.

This optional engagement leads to a lack of genuine commitment and inconsistency in allyship efforts. Dr. Kimberlé Crenshaw, who coined the term "intersectionality," emphasizes the need for sustained and active engagement, noting that "Allyship is not an identity—it's a process of building relationships based on trust, consistency, and accountability with marginalized individuals and/or groups."

Dr. Leticia Nieto describes allyship as a state of putting aside guilt and shame associated with having awareness, and taking action in solidarity with people who have been marginalized.

Instead of solidarity, the optional nature of allyship allows people to retreat to the comfort of their privilege when convenient, undermining the continuous effort needed to drive real change.

What else explains the silence and inaction as legislations seeks to dismantle rights for women, people of color, immigrants, queer and disabled folks, and nearly everyone at the intersection of multiple historically marginalized identities?

“[W]e are witnessing a disheartening cycle of retreat among white “allies” who have allowed DEI teams to be cut—and for conservatives to co-opt conversations about DEI.” Fast Company ?

2. Allyship is conditional

Another limitation is the transactional or conditional nature that allyship takes on. This quid pro quo approach -"you help me, and I'll help you" - is deeply rooted in not seeing others as equals.

Absent solidarity and a desire for collective liberation, actions are taken more for personal gain or public recognition than for genuine progress.

Sarah Ahmed calls this performative allyship, "When support is conditional, it serves the interests of those who offer it, rather than those who need it."

In some (or many) instances, allyship rests on people from marginalized groups succeeding, but not surpassing people who already hold privilege. The instant we get closer to parity, support is pulled out.

Time and time again, I see the dependencies on people with privilege allying with us, as if wanting safer, equitable world is somehow a threat.

3. Overuse, commodification and monetization of allyship

I rarely trust anyone that calls themselves an ally.

If you are one, I’ve seen it in your actions, your choices, your points-of-view.

Allyship at work has been reduced to a buzzword, a checkbox. It’s an easy, feel good identity to try on.

Just sign up for a 2-hour training, and voila! You’ve emerged an ally.

Allyship has become diluted and commercialized, being co-opted into corporate jargon where its impact is minimized to superficial gestures or branding strategies. This transformation of allyship into a marketable term detracts from its intended intent to foster genuine inclusivity and support.

bell hooks write: "To be truly visionary we have to root our imagination in our concrete reality while simultaneously imagining possibilities beyond that reality."

4. Allyship fails to address system oppression

The rarity of true allies, and the cost of allyship is significant.

Stand up for colleagues with chronic illness requesting work-for-home accommodations, and see your bonus drop.

Stand up for equal pay, and you’re the first to be laid off. Don’t even try and unionize, you’ll be fired en masse.

Allyship is its limited scope in addressing the deep-rooted systemic inequities that exist within workplace structures and society at-large. They often fall short of tackling the institutionalized policies, practices, and norms that perpetuate inequality.

Sociologist Patricia Hill Collins says "addressing systemic inequities requires more than individual actions of allyship; it demands a collective and systemic approach to dismantling the structures of power that uphold discrimination"

Tackling systemic issues requires solidarity. It requires most people to stand with, not watch from a distance.

To move beyond these limitations, there needs to be a shift towards a more systemic, consistent, and unconditional approach to allyship.

Our world and work needs real allies. People at the margins can’t continue to be the only ones fighting to usher in a safer, dignified and a more equal world.

That responsibility belongs to all of us.