Vanessa Chan
Diversity in the media has been long overdue. But there’s a difference in representation and decoration — and Hollywood often gets it wrong. The recent trend of swapping the race of established characters, while leaving their story intact, falls into the second category.
“Disney has tried to [promote diversity] through very lazy attempts of race swapping,” said senior Tyler Nichols. “They switched the race, called themselves diverse and then called it a day without actually making any meaningful impact.”
For example, in the live-action “The Little Mermaid,” Halle Bailey’s casting as Ariel is widely celebrated, and rightfully so — she is incredibly talented and fully deserving of the role. Yet the story itself is unchanged. Ariel’s Black identity is unforced and visual, rather than being part of her narrative. It does not affect her relationships, her world or her challenges as a woman of color.
Even Ariel’s sisters are cast as Latina or Asian, meant to check a “needs diversity” box rather than represent authentic characters.
“It’s just modern culture,” said senior Steven Sah. “There’s a … buzzword for diversity and [giving] voices [to] the underrepresented, which is not inherently a bad thing, but when you do it for the sake of being politically correct and not [to] truly understand your audience, [it’s] harmful.”
Similarly, Netflix’s “Bridgerton” imagines a racially integrated Regency-era England but largely ignores the historical realities of slavery and colonial wealth. While the show wasn’t intended to be historically accurate, even reimaginings make choices about what to include and what to ignore, sending the message that race can exist without consequence.
“If you’re not going to include that culture‘s traditions or clothing or food, it’s like you’re not really including them at all,” said junior Aveah Pok.
In addition, political theorist Nancy Fraser says that racial hierarchy is one of the foundations of capitalism. The economy of Britain, for example, was built partly on slavery and exploitation, so “Bridgerton’s” blind inclusivity without this acknowledgement is shallow.
Supporters of these casting choices argue that the best actor got the role, as if casting is a neutral meritocracy untouched by marketing and cultural politics. Every decision about who plays whom is shaped by very deliberate creative choices: what message the film sends and how it fits the studio’s brand.
When a company publicly celebrates a casting choice for its diversity, it’s a statement. Critiquing the practice doesn’t oppose inclusion, but demands that representation be meaningful. Superficial casting reduces identity.
Critics may argue that changing a character’s race is meaningless to the plot of the story, that it’s similar to changing a character’s hair color or build. But race is not cosmetic. Hair color does not determine how someone navigates systemic exclusion or experiences privilege.
Philosopher and distinguished professor Charles Mills writes that ignoring race reinforces inequality by assuming that all people share the same baseline experience. It strips individual cultures of their narrative significance. Rejecting shallow race-swaps isn’t anti-diversity; it is pro-authenticity.
“When you start basing things off of visuals, instead of understanding [the] deeper meaning, … it becomes very dangerous, and then things like stereotypes tend to come into play,” Sah said.
Films such as “Black Panther” succeed because Wakanda is deeply rooted in African culture and politics. “Coco” succeeds because it honors Mexican traditions and family structures.
“[They show] characters of historically unrepresented backgrounds and [give] them new stories instead of … [those] that have already been portrayed in other movies and shows,” Pok said.
This distinction becomes clearer when comparing “Hamilton” and “Bridgerton.” Lin-Manuel Miranda intentionally cast actors of color as the Founding Fathers, serving as commentary on the historical exclusion of people of color. In “Bridgerton,” by contrast, an integrated aristocracy exists alongside the stark reality of Regency England. Representation works when it is integral to the narrative, not merely decorative.
Hollywood has the talent and resources to do better. Representation should be built into a narrative rather than layered on top, and inclusion should not be just a marketing slogan.
