Last year, I wrote a piece about ten of my favorite writers. I got an email that praised the piece, which I appreciated, but it contained a sentiment I find incredibly exasperating. The writer of the email complimented my list, particularly noting its diversity. Half of the people on my list were women; four were people of color; three were queer. So far, so good. But the emailer then expressed an attitude I’ve encountered before, which demonstrates this fundamentally mistaken view of why we pursue diversity. The email said, “I bet you didn’t even realize when you were listing them that your list was so diverse. I bet it just happened that way.”

This person’s intentions were good and I don’t mean to scold. But this idea that diversity is somehow most legitimate when it is a secondary criterion or an unplanned good is just so wrongheaded and ugly to me, and it’s so common. I have, in my life, heard people praise black college students and say something like “I bet he didn’t even check the box to get affirmative action.” The assumption being that the achievements of these students would be somehow diminished if their race was taken into account when they got into school, even though the people who said this were people who would call themselves defenders of affirmative action. That attitude misunderstands diversity, misunderstands why we have to use brute force to achieve it, and concedes defeat on the point that is most important for us to defend. I knew very well that I was writing a diverse list when I wrote it, in fact that diversity was one of my first and most important priorities, and anyone who assumes that this necessarily means I have less regard for these writers than I say I do is so wrong.

So when Melissa Bell says that Vox media wants its employees to “feel welcome for who they are, not what they are,” you are hearing the echoes of every opponent of affirmative action ever. You’re hearing the attitude of someone who praises diversity and yet reveals, in that sentiment, that she sees diversity as a goal that should only be achieved obliquely, not directly. And like so many others, she suggests that she is expressing this attitude for the good of those who have been systematically excluded from companies like Vox. You’ll forgive me if I don’t find that the empty cliche “real talk” somehow excuses the rhetorical ugliness of pitting who people of color are against what they are. You don’t get to decide where “what” ends and “who” begins.

I simply do not understand how smart people can believe that it is good enough, in 2014, to express happiness over a “good conversation about diversity.” The time for good conversations is long, long past. Don’t talk about it. Do it! Hire black writers! Hire women writers! Don’t tell me you know you need get better; get better. If you know you need to get better, just get better. That’s all. Don’t tell me you are committed to diversity. Make that commitment by giving writers of color, queer writers, and women writers contracts. I don’t care what you know you have to do. I care what you actually do. It’s 2014.

Want to hire a woman? Why not hire Moe Tkakic? She happens to be one of the most talented writers and journalists of my generation, and who last I checked was working at a restaurant. Want to hire a black writer? Why not hire Tyler Lewis? I’m not sure where he’s writing now but it’s more than worth it to make an inquiry. Want to hire a woman of color? Why not hire Yasmin Nair? She deserves a prominent forum  as much as anyone and it’s insane she doesn’t have one. This is not hard. Don’t tell me you’re having a hard time finding qualified applicants. They’re out there. Hire them.

I’m sure this will get dismissed as my usual axe-grinding. And the people at Vox are working overtime to define themselves as underdogs, despite being the absolute opposite, so I’m sure they’re going to turn this recent controversy into a “us against the world” narrative. Fine. But I cannot understand how we are still willing to buy “we know we need to get better” as a legitimate excuse, now, after all these years. “We know we need to get better” never put a dime in a struggling writer’s pocket. Stop telling me what you’re gonna do. Just do it.