The Banality of Policy
by Will Shelling
Illustration: Dionne Co, @dionnetology.
One of the really interesting things about working within anti-oppression is to the degree to which the social norms are actually unwritten. Oftentimes, we assume that policy, specifically that of human rights, civil rights, or human resources is obscenely habitual and covers every possible incident that could be contained, through the use of the words “including, but not limited to”. We believe that those who handle complaints, like HR, remain “at arm’s length” from an organization or institution are often able to be the ones who can champion change, but they’re limited by their policies, and more specifically, the banality of them.
The political theorist, Hannah Arendt, wrote at length about the idea of the “banality of evil” a concept she coined during the trial of Adolf Eichmann. Her later book titled Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil highlighted a peculiarity in his criminal defence during the trial. Specifically, it was not that he displayed little to no remorse or guilt for what he participated in, but rather bore no responsibility because he “did his ‘duty’...; he not only obeyed ‘orders’, he also obeyed the ‘law’” (Arendt, 1963, 135).
Ta-Nehisi Coates writes similar reflections about those in the United States in regards to racism, referring to the fact that “there is nothing uniquely evil in these destroyers or even in this moment. The destroyers are merely men enforcing the whims of our country, correctly interpreting its heritage and legacy” (Coates, 2015, 10). Similar instances of “duty” and “doing your job” are extremely common in psychology and sociology, such as the Milgram experiment and the Stanford prison experiments, which explored how when normal people are placed into positions of authority, they ultimately abuse their power, while others conform to subjugation. Even the conception of blaming your superiors for their actions as a defence in the face of criminality is extremely pervasive within our society and is routinely brought up within courtrooms.
However, it’s specifically that banality, that normalcy that requires further examination by people who live, interact, and submit themselves to policies, politics, and problems. In the workplace, complaints are handled by human resources, which often sits apart from company structures, but still use the same policies that do not go far enough on oppression in the workplace. Despite their best intentions, common human resources or human rights offices are unable to accurately capture the experiences of things such as racism or sexism, because they do not fit neatly into company policy.
Racism and other forms of systemic oppression, especially in the workplace, are no longer limited to overt gestures or slurs. It’s not about what they say to you, but rather what they choose to omit. It’s not being invited to functions after hours, it’s being subject to invasive questions about your religion, or being asked inappropriate questions about sex or gender in the workplace. It’s microaggressions that are so prevalent and run deeper within our workplace that we’re often unable to recognize or even meaningfully grapple with.
Microaggressions are subtle, invasive slights based on an individual or group’s marginalized identity, and these are often mentioned in company policies as forms of harassment. However, the withering effects of these small, interactional slights are often the reasons why people leave their workplaces, feel certain professions are not for them, or disengage fully. This is also layered onto the fact that within the workplace, if we’re unable to identify microaggressions or talk about them within our policy, we cannot support or engage marginalized groups of any intersection in how harm manifests for them in their workplaces. By not knowing what these subtle slights look like, we’re unable to even broach conversations about them.
What does this mean for human resources? For civil rights in the workplace? Or even simply having your pain recognized? It means that everyday people within companies, who often proclaim their status as “accomplices” or “allies”, are actually upholding policies that are underdeveloped or ignored (a larger question we can ask here is why we’re still debating whether or not to place microaggressions or bias within policies for companies and organizations, when they’re consistently referenced within our culture). For instance, we’re constantly seeing companies acting performatively; changing their logos to be reminiscent of Pride flags or “pinkwashing” their brands or giving black tiles instead of meaningfully contributing to change for anti-Black racism. This creates a huge disparity between the perceived “wokeness” of companies and the actual experiences of BIPOC folks within the workplace, which is often riddled with microaggressions.
This is where Arendt comes back into play; people within companies, institutions, or non-profits, are simply doing their job. They’re following the policies that have been set forth by their predecessors or by someone who doesn’t have experience of dealing with and negotiating the nuances of racism and other systems of oppression. In a way, it’s the banality of our policy that limits so many organizations from maintaining stances on racism or discrimination, because they often do not have the language to grapple with microaggressions or other forms of under-the-radar slights. BIPOC folks are extremely aware of microaggressions but are underrepresented in leadership positions. This means that when a majority cisgender, white, or male leadership attempts to tackle these topics come up, they’re unequipped to actually address them. More diversity of marginalized groups within leadership means that things like microaggressions in the workplace can be meaningfully addressed and can trigger systems change.
It’s not that people willingly exclude others or choose not to investigate instances of workplace violence or harassment. Maybe they choose to simply follow policy and “do their jobs”, and act out of their belief that the system was designed well, it benefits the majority, or that we “cannot investigate microaggressions”. I think if we look at history, current events, and our lived experience, we realize that “evil” doesn’t necessarily have to be outward symbols of hatred, but rather is so ingrained in our society and policies that it’s just common. It’s the typical status quo.
The purposeful refusal to aspire for different systems that equitably benefit all, rather than a select few perhaps reveals that evil doesn’t shout slurs, but rather follows company-mandated policy. We ought to reject the typical actions of human resources or other policies that have a blank spot when it comes to discussions of harm in workplaces because it’s almost never explicit anymore. It begs the question: How can we radically shift our policies and systems, to cover implicit, subjective harm, and actually centre those who are often the victims of these policy gaps in the process?