The everyday work of inclusion

Good morning, everyone. Thank you for being here today. Let me just say that again: thank you for being here today.

Thank you for being in Amsterdam, the ‘gay capital of the world’, all of you together in one room to talk about inclusion. This is not self-evident.

We live in a time where senior managers hesitate to post a message about inclusion on social media. We live in a time where C-suite executives are putting diversity and inclusion on the table… only to quickly take it back off the table when shareholders get fidgety. We live in a time where political leaders unapologetically condemn the L, the G, the B, the T, the I, the Q, the A, and the plus, and everyone who stands with our community.

So, it takes courage to be here. And I don't even have to refer to the recent events in Berlin.

Make no mistake, I’m fully aware that inclusion has never been a given. There has always been tension around the topic. There has always been risk. But what strikes me in these times, is how little it takes to cast doubt on the progress we had come to take for granted. As if it is not self-evident that every advancement in inclusion is a good thing.

You know, I’m an economist. So, I like numbers. And statistics. And the occasional econometric model. So, I could show you numbers and stats and graphs about how diversity and inclusion benefit organisations. But it’s actually pretty simple: it’s good for business. Why? Because diverse organisations see more.

If you have women at the table who are heard, you make better decisions. If you have people of colour with a real voice, you see things you would otherwise miss. If you have queer colleagues present, you understand realities others never experience. And all of them will teach you something. They will point out your blind spots.

And funnily enough: those blind spots are often our frame of reference. A frame of reference that is white, male, and straight. But at this point, the blind spots are no longer the real question. The real question is what comes after. What do you do once you are aware of your blind spots?

Indeed – now comes the hard part. The part about the kind of organisation you want to be.

Nietzsche, that great German philosopher, once wrote a book called ‘The Gay Science’. Not ‘gay’ in the way we use that word today, but in the sense of open, curious… a joyful way of engaging with the world. And that, to me, captures inclusion perfectly.

It is about creating an environment where people can be open. Curious. And engage with their work, and with each other in a way that feels natural. Preferably joyful.

So, diversity alone is not enough. You can bring different people into the room, and still not hear them. The benefit of diversity only becomes real when people feel safe enough to be themselves.

For many queer professionals, that is exactly where it often still hurts. And we should be honest: within our own community, some still face greater barriers than others.

Especially trans and queer colleagues, who at first sight do not fit in the corporate template and who too often still have to navigate misunderstanding, discomfort, or even hostility. Because let's be honest, I am still a white male in a suit, not behaving explicitly feminine, or whatever, so still matching the corporate point of reference.

If we are serious about inclusion, then this is where our attention is needed most.

For many people in the entire queer community, one recurrent question still crops up on many of their days at work: ‘Can I be open here? Can I be my own curious self? Can I be ‘gay’ in the way all of us in this room and Nietzsche looked at it?’

I probably don’t have to remind many of you of the time, not even that long ago, when people needed code words to find an ally. In the English-speaking world, people from our community would ask: ‘Are you a friend of Dorothy?’ A reference to the movie ‘The Wizard of Oz’, in which Dorothy sings about ‘somewhere over the rainbow’. A safe place. It would be a safe way to test if you could indeed be open and curious and joyful, and gay, with that person. 

For those of you who have not experienced something like this, try to imagine what it means. The toll it takes on someone – to be constantly on your guard. How exhausting it is, psychologically. How limiting in your professional life.

Unfortunately, for some people today, openness is still conditional. Still something to be tested first.

So, how do you tackle the hard part? How do you achieve an open, curious and natural workplace – a place where so many of us spend so many hours? Where does that safe space originate, that allows people to be themselves, and perform at their best?

At DNB, this means making concrete choices – like creating inclusive facilities, such as gender-neutral restrooms, and supporting colleagues in moments that truly matter, including during gender transition.

And it means holding ourselves to a clear standard – one that many of us in this room recognise and contribute to. In 2025, DNB became the first public organisation to reach Advocate status in the Workplace Pride Global Benchmark – and we maintained that status in 2026. Not as a goal in itself, but as a way to keep challenging ourselves: are we really doing what we say we do?

Besides these initiatives, and maybe more importantly, inclusion starts and ends with every single member of your organisation. From the top to the bottom. From the coffee corner to the board room.

And it starts in everyday moments. More than in policies or strategies. It starts in a meeting, when someone is interrupted. In a conversation, when someone hesitates. In a joke, when someone crosses a line. In what is said, and in what is not said. It is in those everyday moments – when people meet other people – that inclusion either exists, or disappears.

And at DNB, this goes for me too. As president of DNB. Because I too sit in meetings, talk to colleagues at the coffee machine, take the lift. And I too am part of the culture.

My job, and this is true for all leaders and managers, comes with a responsibility. Because it is in what I actually do, that I show what I find important – how I convey how people should be treated, how I set boundaries, how I can send the message: it is okay to be yourself, your true self – you have a place in this organisation. And it is a safe place.

In short, I need to walk the talk, if I don’t, all the talk is in vain. Inclusion does not start or end at the top. As I said, it starts and ends with every single member of your organisation. In everyday moments.

That is why being an ally – a friend of Dorothy – is so important. Not as a label. If it becomes a label, it becomes pink or rainbow washing. I still see that too often. And especially now, in metaphorically rainy weather, these colours come off easily.

So, not as a label, but in your behaviour. By using inclusive language. By not assuming someone’s partner is male or female. By supporting colleagues when they experience exclusion. Or simply by making people feel welcome.

But also, by challenging discriminatory jokes. By addressing disrespectful behaviour. That may feel uncomfortable in the moment. But it can be unforgettable for the person who sees they are not alone. Often, allyship simply means refusing to let silence do the speaking. Because silence is never neutral.

And taken together, all these everyday moments – in meetings, at the coffee machine, in the lift – create your culture. Step by step. Moment by moment. Colleague by colleague.

And so, if you want to change your culture, if you want to become more inclusive, you need to be all in. Across roles. Across business units. Across – and within – communities. All in. Not halfway, but all the way. All in. Not just the CEO and the HR department, but every single member of your organisation. All in.

Dear lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, intersex, queer and asexual friends,

Dear allies,

Dear friends of Dorothy,

we can talk about the economics of diversity and inclusion, about its business benefits, about efficiency and innovation, but it all comes down to how we want to spend time together in a place where many of us spend many hours: the workplace.

I believe people want to spend this time together in openness, curiosity and in a naturally joyful way. A gay way, if you like, but in any case, in a safe environment that allows everyone to be their true selves. To be recognised. To be heard. And seen. To be human, really.

So, in the end, it comes down to just one simple question: are you in? Are all of you in? Are all of you all in?

And for those who still convince themselves that they do not need to act because they did not create inequality: perhaps you are right. But you can choose to be part of the solution and help us address the problem.

If all of you are all in, I believe we can make our workplace a place where no one has to ask whether they belong. Because they know, they feel, the answer is yes. Thank you.