Have you ever stood up for what you believed in, knowing it could cost you everything? For me, that moment came when I challenged the ideological tide sweeping through my workplace. As a physician, I spent a decade saving lives in the emergency room, but it was my fight against divisive policies that reshaped my life—and my perspective.
A Doctor’s Stand Against Divisive Policies
My journey began in a bustling emergency department, where the focus was always on the patient—until it wasn’t. Around 2018, I noticed a shift. The institution I worked for, a major healthcare system, began embracing a framework that prioritized group identity over individual merit. It was called diversity, equity, and inclusion (DEI), and while it sounded noble, I soon realized its implications were far from unifying.
I’m no stranger to hard work or tough conversations. Years of homeschooling my kids while pulling weekend shifts in the ER taught me resilience. But nothing prepared me for the ideological storm that hit when I questioned the new policies. It wasn’t just about hiring practices or patient care—it was about a worldview that labeled people as either oppressors or oppressed based on their skin color or gender. To me, that felt like a betrayal of the very principles medicine stands for.
The First Spark of Resistance
It all started at a meeting where a diversity officer laid out a stark vision: society, they claimed, was divided into two camps—those with power and those without. As a doctor trained to see people as individuals, I was floored. Was this really how we were supposed to view our patients? Our colleagues? I couldn’t stay silent.
“The history of society is the history of class struggles…of oppressor and the oppressed.”
– A 19th-century philosopher’s words echoed in my mind
The similarity to Marxist rhetoric was uncanny, and it set off alarm bells. I dove into research, reading everything I could about DEI and its roots. When I suggested a different approach—one that focused on shared values and unity, inspired by social psychologist Jonathan Haidt—the response was chilling. “That’s not our model,” the officer said, shutting down the conversation. I realized then that questioning the narrative wasn’t just discouraged; it was dangerous.
The Pledge That Changed Everything
By 2020, the institution doubled down. A public pledge declared racism a public health crisis and committed to eliminating racial inequities. It sounded righteous, but the details were murky. The pledge claimed to be “guided by science,” yet when I asked for evidence linking racism to health disparities, no one could provide it. Not my supervisor, not the chief medical officer, not even the vice president.
- No data to back the claim of racism as a primary driver of health outcomes.
- No willingness to engage in open discussion.
- A growing sense that dissent was not tolerated.
I pressed further, asking why equity—equal outcomes for groups—was prioritized over equality, the principle of treating everyone the same. The response? Silence, or vague deflections about “listening to the community.” It was clear: the institution wasn’t interested in debate. They wanted compliance.
When Questions Become “Unsafe”
Things took a darker turn when a casual conversation with a nurse landed me in hot water. We’d discussed implicit bias, respectfully disagreeing. I thought nothing of it—until I was summoned to a meeting with HR and my supervisor. The nurse had reported my words as “unsafe.” No evidence was presented, no specifics given. Just a vague accusation and a warning: stop talking about the pledge.
“Which ideas were unsafe?” I asked. The supervisor looked unprepared, almost embarrassed. “We’re not discussing that,” he said.
It was a surreal moment. As a doctor, I was used to defending my decisions with data and reasoning. But here, the rules were different. My questions were seen as a threat, and I was silenced. The message was clear: conform or face consequences.
The Cost of Speaking Out
I didn’t stop. I reached out to the hospital president, asking why equity was better than equality. No answer. I asked the chief medical officer if diversity meant hiring the best candidates or meeting quotas. His response? “Diversity is a value.” No clarity, just dogma.
My persistence wasn’t heroic—it was stubbornness born of frustration. I’d read Solzhenitsyn, who warned that silence in the face of falsehood enables tyranny. I couldn’t let that happen, not in a place dedicated to healing. So I kept pushing, suggesting an anonymous survey to gauge how employees felt about being judged by group identity versus individual merit. The response? “We don’t do anonymous surveys.” Funny, because they had before.
Question Asked | Response Received |
Evidence for racism as a public health crisis? | None provided |
Why prioritize equity over equality? | No answer |
Is diversity a goal or a byproduct of merit? | “Diversity is a value” |
By January 2024, I’d crossed an invisible line. I was called into a room with the president, the chief medical officer, and a security guard waiting outside. “You’re being terminated,” they said, “not for cause.” I wasn’t surprised, but the sting was real. Walking home to tell my wife was harder than any shift in the ER.
The Personal Toll and the Bigger Picture
Losing my job wasn’t just about me—it affected my family. My wife worried about our finances, our reputation. Finding new work was a nightmare. HR departments flagged my termination, and I ended up taking a contract position an hour away, turning 12-hour shifts into grueling 14-hour days. But the hardest part? Explaining to my kids why their dad was fired for asking questions.
“Fear God, not man. Never shy away from asking questions in the pursuit of truth.”
– My advice to my children
In a way, this experience was a gift. It taught me resilience, the value of truth, and the importance of standing firm. I learned that institutions can falter, gripped by ideologies that prioritize appearances over substance. But I also saw hope: the institution later softened its stance, quietly revising its policies. Maybe my questions made a dent after all.
Lessons for Navigating Workplace Conflicts
My story isn’t unique. Across industries, people are grappling with workplace ideologies that demand conformity over critical thinking. If you’re facing similar challenges, here’s what I’ve learned:
- Know Your Values: Clarify what you stand for before conflict arises. For me, it was equality and truth.
- Document Everything: Keep records of conversations, emails, and responses. They’re your lifeline if things escalate.
- Seek Allies: You’re stronger with others, but don’t expect them to speak up publicly.
- Prepare for Consequences: Standing up can cost you. Weigh the risks, but don’t let fear silence you.
Perhaps the most interesting lesson is that truth has a way of surfacing, even when it’s inconvenient. The pendulum swings, and institutions adapt—sometimes because of people like you and me who dare to ask, “Why?”
Why This Matters for Relationships
You might wonder why this story fits into Couple Life. It’s simple: the principles of truth, courage, and standing up for what’s right don’t just apply to the workplace—they’re the bedrock of strong relationships. My wife and I faced tension over my choices, but her support grew as she saw the bigger picture. Together, we learned that navigating conflict, whether at work or home, requires honesty and resilience.
In relationships, just like in workplaces, ideologies can creep in, creating division. Whether it’s societal pressures or differing beliefs, the key is to keep asking questions, stay true to your values, and never let fear dictate your actions. That’s how you build a life—and a partnership—worth fighting for.
So, what’s your truth worth? For me, it cost a job but gained something far greater: the knowledge that one voice, however small, can challenge a system. And maybe, just maybe, make it better.