Why the dismantling of NIOSH isn’t just a public health crisis—it’s a workplace inclusion crisis
Inclusion goes beyond just good vibes in meetings. It includes protection, and asks who is left behind when that protection is stripped away. That’s why the recent dismantling of the National Institute for Occupational Safety and Health (NIOSH) under HHS Secretary Robert F. Kennedy Jr. should have everyone who cares about inclusion sounding the alarm.
More than 800 public servants were laid off. Programs that support firefighter safety, black lung screenings for coal miners, and the certification of personal protective equipment (like N95 masks) were abruptly halted. For the first time in 50 years, coal miners aren’t getting screened for black lung disease. Firefighters’ health registries are offline. The agency responsible for making sure protective gear works is gone.
This is about real people—many of them working-class, disabled, BIPOC, rural, or frontline—being told that their safety no longer matters. And that’s an inclusion issue.
Inclusion Means Safety, Not Just Belonging
Too often, “inclusion” is reduced to soft-skill language, workshops about respect, employee resource groups, and culture initiatives. While all of this matters, they’re incomplete if they don’t include material safety and health.
If your job puts your lungs, your body, or your life at risk—and the systems meant to protect you are dismantled—how “included” can you really be?
Inclusion without safety is just lip service.
Who Gets Protected—and Who Doesn’t
Many office-based professionals are unaware of NIOSH’s work. It’s an essential agency for workers in high-risk industries, such as emergency services, mining, construction, and manufacturing. These industries are often filled with people who are already marginalized in other ways:
- Black lung disease disproportionately impacts low-income, rural, and aging workers
- Women in emergency services are already more likely to face unsafe gear and environments
- Migrant and immigrant laborers often work the most dangerous jobs with the least protection
- People with chronic illnesses or disabilities rely on strong safety standards to stay employed at all
When worker safety gets defunded or deprioritized, it sends a clear message: some people’s lives matter less than others. That’s not just poor policy. That’s systemic exclusion.
Layoffs That Undermine Trust
The abrupt layoffs at NIOSH gutted public trust in workplace health protections. Many of the programs that were eliminated had decades of credibility behind them. Workers knew they could count on NIOSH to screen for illness, investigate hazards, and ensure protective gear met national standards.
Now, trust is fractured. When people no longer trust that their government—or employer—has their back, morale crumbles, loyalty disappears, and risk increases.
Inclusion is about psychological safety, but it’s also about actual, physical safety. We can’t have one without the other.
What Inclusive Leaders Can Do Right Now
This moment is bigger than any one agency—it’s a call to action for all of us who work on inclusion, people, and leadership.
Here’s how to respond with integrity:
- Acknowledge that safety is inclusion.
If you lead inclusion, equity, or people strategy, start talking about worker safety, not only belonging. Recenter inclusion around dignity and security, not just sentiment. - Support unions and worker advocates.
Partner with organizations already doing the work. Follow their lead. If you have a platform, use it to amplify their concerns, not just your brand values. - Ask: How safe are your people, really?
Audit your workplace with safety in mind—especially for your frontline, shift-based, and contract workers. Inclusion work starts where the risks are greatest. - Don’t let silence be the response.
Whether you’re in government, healthcare, tech, or hospitality, speak up. Inclusion means showing up even when it’s uncomfortable, especially when lives are on the line.
Final Thought
When we talk about inclusion, we need to mean all of it—not just feel-good initiatives but real protections. Not just who has a voice at the table, but who’s safe doing the work.
The layoffs at NIOSH aren’t just a bureaucratic reshuffle—they’re a warning. If we ignore that warning, we’re complicit in building workplaces that are inclusive in name but dangerous in practice.
Inclusion isn’t political. It’s personal. And right now, it’s urgent.