The 2025 executive order revoked federal contractors’ obligations to prepare affirmative action plans , but discrimination bans remain. This article explains the law, clarifies that quotas remain illegal , and offers guidance for building lawful, effective DEI programs.

In January 2025, the U.S. administration issued a sweeping executive order titled “Ending Illegal Discrimination and Restoring Merit‑Based Opportunity.” Headlines trumpeted the “end of affirmative action,” and social feeds buzzed with claims that companies could no longer pursue diversity goals. The truth is more nuanced: while the order rescinded certain affirmative action requirements for federal contractors, it did not repeal anti‑discrimination laws or ban all diversity, equity and inclusion (DEI) initiatives .
Since 1965, Executive Order 11246 required contractors doing business with the federal government to prepare affirmative action plans for women and minorities. The 2025 order revoked that requirement . Importantly, Title VII of the Civil Rights Act still prohibits employment discrimination based on race, colour, religion, sex or national origin . It remains illegal to hire, promote or fire someone because of these characteristics. Quotas and race‑based preferences have been unlawful since 1964 .
Affirmative action is a specific set of policies designed to redress past discrimination, often involving goals or timetables for increasing representation. DEI programs are broader strategies aimed at creating inclusive cultures, mitigating bias and ensuring equal opportunity. Many DEI initiatives—mentorship programs, bias training, diverse hiring panels—do not involve quotas and are fully compliant with the law . Even after the executive order, employers are allowed to conduct outreach to under‑represented groups, remove artificial barriers to advancement and create affinity networks
1. Focus on inclusivity, not quotas. Avoid setting numerical targets based on protected characteristics. Instead, track processes (e.g., ensuring diverse candidate slates) and outcomes (e.g., equitable promotion rates).
2. Emphasize training and transparency. Educate managers on implicit bias and provide clear criteria for hiring and evaluation. Document decisions to demonstrate compliance with equal employment laws.
3. Expand talent pipelines. Partner with colleges, vocational programs and community organizations to attract diverse applicants. Widen geographic and skills criteria to avoid inadvertently excluding qualified candidates.
4. Measure impact. Use employee surveys and demographic analyses to assess whether policies create a sense of belonging and drive retention.
Beyond legal compliance, diverse teams are correlated with higher innovation, profitability and employee engagement. In a globalised economy, companies that ignore diversity risk falling behind competitors who harness a wider array of perspectives. Understanding the distinction between affirmative action and inclusive practices prevents overreaction to policy changes and keeps the focus on building equitable workplaces that benefit everyone.

Kelly Dowd, MBA, MA, is an author, systems architect, and Editor-in-Chief of WTM MEDIA. Dowd examines the intersections of people, power, politics, and design—bringing clarity to the forces that shape democracy, influence culture, and determine the future of global society. Their work blends rigorous analysis with cultural insight, inviting readers to think critically about the world and its unfolding narratives.

The modern city has spent more than a century attempting to make water disappear. Rain falls onto roofs, roads and pavements. Gutters collect it. Drains capture it. Pipes bury it. Pumps move it. Rivers are channelled. Wetlands are filled. Coastlines are defended. The engineering objective has largely been straightforward: separate water from urban life as efficiently as possible. That model is reaching its limits. Around 600 million urban residents already live with significant annual flood hazard, according to the World Bank. Globally, 1.81 billion people live in flood-prone areas, while annual urban flood losses could approach $50 billion by 2050. Rapid urbanisation, ageing drainage infrastructure, land subsidence and changing rainfall patterns are interacting with the basic physical reality that cities have covered enormous portions of naturally absorbent ground with concrete and asphalt. Yet the consequential story is not simply that cities need bigger drains. A different philosophy of urban resilience is emerging: parks designed to flood temporarily; streets shaped to carry cloudbursts; wetlands restored as infrastructure; plazas capable of storing stormwater; permeable landscapes that absorb rainfall; buildings elevated or adapted to tolerate inundation; sensors that reveal water movement in real time; and neighbourhoods organised around the understanding that some water cannot — and perhaps should not — be engineered away. The World Bank increasingly describes effective urban flood management as an integration of grey infrastructure, green infrastructure, nature-based systems, planning, warning systems and institutional reform, rather than reliance on any single engineering intervention. The conceptual reversal is enormous. For generations, successful urbanisation meant controlling nature sufficiently to construct the city. The next generation of urbanism may require something more intelligent: designing the city so nature can still function inside it.

For much of the post-financial-crisis era, wealthy economies became accustomed to an extraordinary condition: money was cheap. Governments could borrow heavily, companies could finance expansion at modest rates, asset prices could rise on abundant liquidity, and households learned to treat low-cost mortgages as something approaching economic normality. That world is disappearing fast. Across major economies, long-term government borrowing costs have climbed towards levels not seen for years or decades. On 17 August, the US 30-year Treasury yield reached roughly 5.31 per cent, its highest level since 2007. Japan’s 10-year government bond yield subsequently approached 2.95 per cent, a three-decade high, while German borrowing costs have risen to 15-year highs. The OECD describes the present combination of elevated financing requirements and elevated yields as exceptional compared with the previous two decades. Behind those numbers is a larger structural contest. Governments need capital for debt refinancing, defence, infrastructure, pensions, healthcare and climate resilience. Technology companies require extraordinary sums for artificial-intelligence infrastructure. Energy systems require grids, generation and storage. Businesses require investment. Families require mortgages and credit. These demands do not occupy separate universes. They ultimately encounter the same fundamental economic resource: capital. And when many powerful institutions want more of it simultaneously, the price of money stops being an obscure financial-market variable. It becomes a question of who gets financed, at what price, and at whose expense.

For more than a century, the word vaccine has largely meant prevention: teach the immune system to recognise a threat before disease takes hold. Cancer is forcing medicine to reconsider that architecture. A new generation of experimental therapies is attempting something considerably more individual: sequence a patient’s tumour, identify mutations particular to that cancer, manufacture instructions corresponding to selected tumour-specific targets, and teach the patient’s immune system to recognise what belongs to the cancer growing inside that particular body. On 19 August, Moderna and Merck announced that their Phase III trial of the investigational personalised mRNA therapy intismeran autogene, used with Merck’s checkpoint inhibitor Keytruda after surgery for high-risk melanoma, achieved statistically significant and clinically meaningful improvements in recurrence-free survival and distant-metastasis-free survival compared with Keytruda alone. The global trial enrolled 1,137 patients with resected stage IIB–IV melanoma. No new safety concerns were identified in the announcement. Full detailed Phase III results remain pending. The result matters because this is not simply another medicine administered to everyone carrying the same diagnosis. Intismeran is designed individually. Tumour and normal tissue are sequenced; mutations are analysed computationally; selected neoantigens — abnormal molecular features produced by the tumour — become the targets encoded into an mRNA therapy manufactured for that patient. Earlier Phase IIb evidence provides important context rather than a substitute for the unreleased Phase III detail. At five-year median follow-up, Moderna and Merck reported that intismeran plus Keytruda reduced the risk of recurrence or death by 49 per cent and distant metastasis or death by 59 per cent compared with Keytruda alone in that smaller study. The larger significance therefore extends beyond melanoma. Medicine has spent generations classifying disease so that patients with sufficiently similar conditions can receive sufficiently similar treatments. Personalised cancer vaccines suggest a different possibility: the diagnosis may identify the disease, while the tumour itself helps design the medicine. If that model succeeds across cancers, one of medicine’s great industrial achievements — standardisation — will begin coexisting with its apparent opposite: manufacturing treatment for one.