I want our future leaders to know what's possible and to be part

“I want our future leaders to know what’s possible and to be part of a world where diversity and gender equality aren’t special programs but the natural way of operating.” These words of Pierre Nanterme, the former CEO of Accenture, echo like a call from the mountaintop to all who dream of a just and enlightened world. They speak of a vision beyond policy — a transformation of the human spirit. For when equality must be taught rather than lived, the soul of civilization is still incomplete. What Nanterme desired was not an organization built on programs, but a world built on principle, where diversity and gender equality are not banners waved for applause, but the very breath of daily life.

In the age of the ancients, justice was the measure of kings, and the harmony of society was considered divine. Yet through the centuries, humanity has faltered in this sacred balance. Many have spoken of equality; few have embodied it as nature does — the sun that warms both king and beggar, the river that flows for every thirst. True equality, as Nanterme envisioned, is not the act of granting privilege, but the awakening of understanding: that every person, regardless of gender, origin, or form, is part of the same great human design. Diversity is not a burden to be managed — it is the lifeblood of progress, the source of new ideas, and the proof that we are stronger together than apart.

Consider the story of Wangari Maathai, the Kenyan woman who planted trees and, through them, sowed the seeds of justice. She founded the Green Belt Movement, teaching rural women to restore their lands and their dignity. The world at first saw her as an anomaly — a woman standing against corruption, against male authority, against indifference. Yet she endured, for her conviction was pure. In time, her small act of replanting forests grew into a revolution that won her the Nobel Peace Prize. This is what Nanterme spoke of: a world where such courage is not exceptional, but expected; where the rise of a woman, a person of color, or one once silenced, is no longer seen as a miracle, but as the normal flowering of human potential.

For when diversity and equality are treated as programs, they remain fragile — dependent on leaders, funding, or fashion. But when they become a natural way of operating, they are woven into the moral fabric of the world. Like gravity or light, they no longer require justification; they simply are. This is the dream of every visionary — that goodness becomes instinct, that justice becomes habit, that compassion becomes culture. In such a world, future generations will not ask why women lead, or how cultures coexist; they will wonder how it was ever otherwise.

But this transformation demands more than laws and speeches. It asks for character — the quiet, steadfast kind that chooses fairness even when unseen. Each of us must be an architect of this new order, shaping our homes, workplaces, and nations to reflect the sacred truth of human equality. It begins when we listen to those unlike ourselves, when we refuse to stand idle before bias, when we measure greatness not by dominance but by dignity. The ancient philosophers called this “justice in the soul” — a state where harmony rules both the heart and the city.

The lesson of Nanterme’s words, then, is not only for leaders but for all who lead in spirit. For leadership is not granted by title, but proven by example. The young who hear this teaching must understand: you do not need to wait for permission to build a fairer world. Begin now, in your small circle, to make equality the air you breathe. Do not treat diversity as an effort, but as an art — the art of seeing the divine reflected in every face.

So let these words be carried like a torch: “Diversity and gender equality must become the natural way of operating.” Let them remind us that civilization’s progress is not measured by its inventions or empires, but by its ability to see all its children as equal heirs to the same destiny. When that day comes — when inclusion is as effortless as breathing — we shall finally say that humanity has matured. Until then, let us work not as administrators of fairness, but as guardians of possibility, planting the seeds of a world that no longer preaches equality, but lives it.