Privilege. It’s not a slur, not a guilt-trip, and definitely not a reason to get defensive. It’s a reality. Some of us have unearned advantages that help us move through the world more easily. That doesn’t mean our lives are easy. Just that they’re not harder because of things like our skin colour, citizenship status, gender, or body.
Let’s get honest about what it is, how it shows up, and how we can use it to build a more equitable world.
What privilege actually is (and what it isn’t)
Privilege isn’t a character flaw or a social crime. It’s simply the absence of certain barriers. It’s not about being rich or famous. It’s about which obstacles you didn’t have to overcome.
To make it plain: privilege means you don’t have to think about something that others can’t avoid thinking about. It’s a silent edge.
Real-life examples of how it shows up –
Job interviews:
Jamal and James send out identical CVs. James gets more callbacks. That’s racial privilege—specifically, the kind Peggy McIntosh (1989) described as being able to count on one’s name not working against them.Walking home at night:
Sarah grips her keys between her fingers, constantly alert. Tom? He strolls, headphones in, no problem. That’s male privilege.Workplace dynamics:
Emily raises concerns and is labelled “difficult.” Mark does the same and gets a leadership badge. That’s gender privilege in the boardroom.Migration and documentation:
Sofia was born with a passport that opens doors worldwide. Her colleague Amal, a refugee, faces endless suspicion and bureaucracy, despite equal education and skills. Sofia didn’t earn that ease. That’s migration and citizenship privilege.Air travel:
Priya wears a hijab. She’s always “randomly” selected for additional checks. Brian breezes through. That’s religious and racial privilege.Healthcare:
A white patient’s pain is taken seriously; a Black patient is told to “tough it out.” This isn’t fiction—it’s documented bias (Hoffman et al., 2016). That’s systemic privilege, with deadly consequences.
These examples don’t mean everyone without those privileges is powerless—or that those with privilege didn’t work hard. It means their hard work wasn’t sabotaged by hidden tripwires.
So… why say “white privilege”? Isn’t that discriminatory?
Great question. The term white privilege is not an accusation. It’s an analysis. It names the patterns of advantage that come with whiteness in societies shaped by colonialism, racism, and Eurocentric norms.
It doesn’t mean every white person is rich, successful, or has had it easy. It means that when race is a variable—policing, hiring, media, medicine—white people generally benefit from default trust, safety, and access.
If you’ve never been racially profiled, asked where you’re “really” from, or seen your race criminalised in the news, you’re benefitting from white privilege. That’s not discriminatory—it’s descriptive. Avoiding the term because it feels uncomfortable doesn’t change the structures. Naming it is a necessary first step to changing them.
In short: it’s not about guilt. It’s about awareness and action.
Is being in the communication profession a privilege too?
Yes—absolutely. Being in communication (whether formally in a comms role or simply being skilled at it) does confer professional privilege within an organisation. And it’s one of those under-recognised, often invisible forms of advantage.
Let’s break it down:
1. You shape the narrative
People who control the message shape how others understand strategy, success, conflict—even culture. You’re not just telling the story. You’re defining what the story is. That’s power.
“The person who frames the issue usually wins the debate.”
2. You have access to leadership (and their language)
Comms professionals often have a direct line to decision-makers. You learn how they think, what they fear, and what they value. You become a translator between leadership and the rest of the org. That kind of proximity to power? That’s privilege.
3. You influence perception and trust
People trust those who explain things well. If you’re known for making complex ideas simple, handling hard conversations with tact, or persuading across silos, you’re often brought in to “smooth things over.” That reputation gives you informal influence even beyond your title.
4. You’re more likely to be seen as ‘strategic’
Strong communicators are often perceived as “leadership material.” This perception—fair or not—fast-tracks careers. Someone with the same ideas but less polish or fluency may be seen as “not ready” or “too blunt.”
5. You can recover from mistakes more easily
If you’re good with words, you can craft a thoughtful apology, explain context, or reframe a bad decision. Others may not get that benefit of the doubt.
How not to abuse privilege
Privilege is like a microphone you didn’t ask for. You can:
- Hog it.
- Drop it.
- Use it to pass the mic.
Here’s how to not be the person weaponising their privilege:
- Don’t speak for, speak with. Co-create. Co-sign. Co-lift.
- Interrupt bias, even when it’s subtle. Especially then.
- Decline the “saviour” role. You’re here to stand with people, not rescue them.
- Share the spotlight. If you’re always the voice, it’s time to make space for others.
- Keep learning. Privilege loves the shadows. Shine a light.
But here’s the catch…
This type of privilege is often invisible because it looks like merit. And to be fair, communication is a skill. But when we treat it like a neutral ability rather than a socially rewarded behaviour tied to education, culture, and access, we overlook how much of a head start it gives.
People raised in multilingual households, elite schools, or debate-heavy families often have an early advantage in persuasive language. People from cultures that value indirect communication might be unfairly labelled “unclear” or “passive.”
So yes, communication is power. And if you’ve got that power, it comes with a responsibility:
Use it not just to be heard, but to make space for others to be heard as well.
That’s what turning privilege into allyship looks like, especially in the workplace.
Using privilege for good: The ally’s playbook
Let’s be honest: performative allyship is boring, self-serving, and transparent. Real allyship is messier and also more powerful.
Here’s the playbook for putting privilege to work:
- Listen without ego. You’re not here to be comfortable; you’re here to grow.
- Step aside sometimes. Use your seat to pull up another chair.
- Act behind the scenes. Redirect credit. Recommend people. Open doors quietly.
- Apologise well. Mistakes happen. Owning them is more powerful than defensiveness.
- Vote, donate, disrupt. Do what you can, where you are, with what you’ve got.
In other words
Privilege isn’t the problem. Pretending it doesn’t exist is.
The real power move is recognising your privilege and using it to rewrite the rules for positive change. If you have the mic, use it wisely. If you have the key, unlock doors. If you’re in the room, make sure others can get in too.
That’s not charity. That’s leadership.#
