In May, the Sydney Morning Herald and the Age announced the recipients of a $150,000 arts criticism funding initiative from the Copyright Agency and the Judith Neilson Institute: five white-Australian culture critics. As a creative producer at Sweatshop Western Sydney Literacy Movement, where we coordinate the writing component of StoryCasters – a Diversity Arts Australia initiative that supports CaLD arts reviewers, which I had introduced the Herald’s arts editor to – I and many First Nations writers and writers of colour were deeply disappointed.

We have been part of developing conversations around the monolithic white industry of arts criticism in Australia, and have watched again and again as nothing has changed. We were stunned that news outlets traditionally perceived to be progressive would not take this funding as an opportunity to diversify the pool.

On Monday afternoon, Jack Callil and Bec Kavanagh, two book critics selected by the Herald and the Age, tweeted a joint resignation letter, expressing solidarity with non-white writers and acknowledging that the Nine papers had “missed an opportunity”. As Benjamin Law tweeted, this was a “genuinely sad outcome”. Most of us who took issue with the appointments were not attacking the white Australians who were selected: we are most interested in seeing the structural changes that will prevent it from happening again.

It’s not as though the talent doesn’t exist. There are a multitude of Australian literary outlets run by and publishing critics of colour, including Sweatshop, Peril Magazine, Liminal, Mascara Literary Review and Djed Press. These publications and writers may not be on the radar of predominantly white outlets – but in a country where half the population comes from either a first- or second-generation migrant background, that’s what needs to change.

For any institution with an overrepresentation of white staff, diversity quotas have been proven to work. Writer and lawyer Dr Randa Abdel-Fatteh advocates the importance of an intersectional and race-oriented approach to quotas in business and academia and her arguments are certainly applicable to the arts industry, where monocultural leadership seems to ensure monocultural hiring decisions. To repurpose Abdel-Fatteh’s argument, advocating for diversity quotas in the arts is “not about introducing a policy of affirmative action; it’s about shifting an already existing policy of affirmative action” from white communities to BIPOC communities.

On Wednesday, the Nine papers confirmed the reopening of Callil and Kavanagh’s former positions, with the assurance that “the roles are posted more widely to encourage a greater diversity of applicants”. In essence, the response shifts the blame from the structural issues at the heart of the decision to the visibility of their call-out. This is the crux of the problem. Across all sectors of the arts, we are at a turning point in the conversation about diversity and race. Apologies and empty pledges are no longer enough.

In the visual arts, Soo-Min Shim and Eugene Yiu Nam Cheung critique the whiteness of the Archibald prize and its absence of non-white winners, identifying the roots of the problem in the structures that govern and judge it. Cheung’s observation has stayed with me: “At the heart of the art world lies a machine that serves to only better the material conditions of white people.” The precision of this quote stings at the same time that it liberates. Seeing a gut feeling articulated so boldly is to feel heard as a person of colour in this industry. For too long, First Nations and artists of colour have felt gaslit whenever we speak up about racism and the structural barriers we face.

In the literary sphere, Sujatha Fernandes analyses the positive coverage Jeanine Cummins’ American Dirt received from white Australian journalists at the Good Weekend and the Sydney Morning Herald. Fernandes argues that both journalists failed to adequately engage with the critical conversation around the novel’s depictions of race in America, or with their inherent biases as white Australians. Fernandes draws parallels between American Dirt and Australian author Anna Krien’s 2019 novel Act of Grace, in which Krien writes from the perspective of First Nations characters and people of colour. It says something of the Australian literary reviewership that Act of Grace has not faced a fraction of the nuanced discussion that American Dirt received.

In the performing arts, Moreblessing Maturure shared a clip of comedian Josh Thomas talking about how difficult it is to find an actor of colour who is experienced enough to cast. Writer Brodie Lancaster called out the double standards on Twitter: Thomas had no acting credits before casting himself as the lead in Please Like Me, and neither did his best friend Thomas Ward, who co-starred in the show. Thomas has apologised for his comments and said he is committed to do better – but what this incident should reveal to all gatekeepers is that their selection criteria, purportedly based on “merit”, are more likely based on biases which, without meaningful structural change, will continue to shut out and shut down marginalised voices.

The lesson continues in the film industry. Last weekend, playwright Michelle Law exposed the Sydney Film festival’s decision to award a “profoundly problematic” film, Mukbang, which she said contained racist scenes. In a series of tweets, Law explained how the film appropriates Korean culture to serve the story of a white person, and featured an illustration of a Black boy being choked by a white woman – which was silently cut after complaints. The Sydney film festival is yet to release a public statement, although Scanlen and the production team have apologised. “If more BIPOC creators and creatives were involved in all stages of production, this would not have occurred,” Scanlen said on Instagram. But as Law pointed out, there was another structural issue behind this film being deemed a winner: an all-white panel of judges.

White Australian artists may individually apologise and pledge to do better, but nothing is changing at the top. The recent decision to axe ABC Life, a platform which championed diverse stories and viewpoints but was at the heart of a culture war waged largely by white gatekeepers, is the most recent example. Again and again, racially marginalised artists carry the burden of exposing the problems entrenched within this industry, while the institutions themselves remain silent. Change at a structural level is needed to prevent racism from occurring in the first place.

Shirley Le is a creative producer at Sweatshop Literacy Movement. She is currently completing her debut manuscript through a mentorship with Affirm Press