There was a time when politicians would have hesitated before openly attacking diversity, inclusion and equality.

Not anymore.

Across politics, attacks on diversity have become increasingly normalised. Diversity is dismissed as “woke”, equality initiatives are portrayed as unnecessary bureaucracy, and minorities are too often turned into convenient political dividing lines.

That should concern all of us.

Because diversity is not an ideology. It is a fact.

Our communities are made up of people of different races, religions, sexual orientations, gender identities, backgrounds, abilities and experiences. Recognising that reality does not divide society. Pretending those differences — and the inequalities that sometimes come with them — do not exist is what causes harm.

The argument we increasingly hear is simple: stop talking about identity, stop treating groups differently and just treat everybody the same.

But equality has never been that simple.

Treating everybody identically only produces equality if everybody begins from the same position and faces the same barriers. They do not.

For LGBTQ+ communities, we know this from history.

The rights many of us now take for granted were achieved precisely because people challenged discrimination. Same-sex relationships were criminalised. Gay men were dismissed from jobs. LGBTQ+ people were treated as mentally ill. Section 28 deliberately restricted discussion of homosexuality in schools.

Progress did not happen because society stopped talking about inequality. It happened because people refused to ignore it.

The same lesson runs through the history of HIV.

HIV stigma was allowed to flourish partly because those most affected were often people society was already comfortable marginalising: gay and bisexual men, Black African communities, migrants, people who use drugs and others whose voices were too easily ignored.

We have made extraordinary medical progress. Today, effective HIV treatment means people can live long, healthy lives, and someone with an undetectable viral load cannot sexually transmit HIV.

But science alone cannot eradicate prejudice.

People still fear taking an HIV test because of stigma. People living with HIV still encounter ignorance and discrimination. LGBTQ+ people continue to experience inequalities in healthcare, housing, employment and personal safety.

That is precisely why the political retreat from diversity matters.

When politicians repeatedly portray diversity as a problem, something changes. Language once considered unacceptable becomes mainstream. Prejudice is given permission to dress itself up as common sense. People who already feel vulnerable hear something very clearly: perhaps your equality is negotiable after all.

And there is another side to this debate which is too often forgotten.

Diversity works.

Organisations make better decisions when different experiences are represented. Healthcare works better when services understand the communities they serve. Employers benefit from wider perspectives. Communities become stronger when people feel they belong rather than feeling they must hide part of themselves to be accepted.

At Sahir, we see the importance of this every day.

We support people living with HIV, LGBTQ+ people, refugees and asylum seekers, families, young people and communities from across the Liverpool City Region.

Behind the political arguments about “diversity” are real human beings.

A teenager wondering whether coming out will cost them their family.

A trans person deciding whether they feel safe enough to ask for healthcare.

Someone newly diagnosed with HIV terrified that their friends will reject them.

An LGBTQ+ asylum seeker who has escaped a country where being themselves could mean imprisonment, violence or death.

To them, diversity and inclusion are not fashionable slogans.

They can mean being listened to rather than dismissed. Receiving appropriate healthcare rather than avoiding it. Finding safety rather than facing hostility. Belonging rather than merely being tolerated.

Of course diversity initiatives should be effective, evidence-based and accountable. Like any policy, they should be open to scrutiny and improvement.

But there is a vast difference between questioning how we promote equality and questioning whether equality itself has gone too far.

That is the line we must not allow political debate to erase.

Diversity is not something Britain should fear.

It is part of who Britain is.

And at a time when attacking diversity has become politically fashionable, those of us who believe in equality should be prepared to say something unfashionably simple:

Our differences are not the problem. How we choose to treat one another is.