When Equity Turns Into Entitlement: A Hard Conversation About Accountability in Music

Over the past few years, the music industry has made important strides towards inclusion. More artists from marginalised backgrounds are stepping into spaces they’ve historically been shut out of, demanding visibility, equity and resources. It’s a necessary reckoning, and one we should all champion.

But alongside this progress, we need to have an honest conversation about the fine line between advocating for fairness and conflating identity with entitlement. I’ve noticed a troubling pattern emerging. Some individuals, rather than focusing on honing their craft or building genuine relationships, lean solely on their identity as their calling card. They demand opportunities, free labour and industry favours under the banner of “allyship”, while dismissing any critique or rejection as prejudice.

Let’s be clear. Systemic barriers in music are real. Trans artists, artists of colour, disabled artists, working-class artists, all face disproportionate hurdles. But acknowledging systemic injustice doesn’t remove the need for talent, hard work and readiness. Equity doesn’t mean anyone with a dream automatically deserves resources, connections or investment. It means everyone deserves a fair shot at earning them.

It’s easy to blame a lack of success purely on structural oppression, and no doubt that plays a role. But sometimes the hard truth is this: the work isn’t ready yet. The songs aren’t strong enough. The performances need more development. The demos don’t show potential worth investing in. That’s not oppression. That’s the reality of an incredibly competitive industry.

I’ve seen peers pour years into developing their craft, learning the business, building authentic relationships, showing up with humility and curiosity, not with a list of demands. And even they get told “no” more often than “yes”. Meanwhile, others arrive expecting doors to open simply because they’ve struggled, then label anyone who doesn’t bend to their demands as “gatekeepers” or “non-allies”.

Being marginalised doesn’t mean the industry owes you shortcuts. It means you deserve the same chance to prove yourself. But proving yourself is still part of the journey. If people aren’t willing to volunteer their time, expertise or resources for you, it might not be because of who you are. It might be because they don’t see the work as investment-ready yet. And that’s valid.

It’s also okay to acknowledge that not everyone who wants a career in music is going to have one. That’s not bigotry. That’s the reality of an overcrowded, fiercely competitive field. Talent alone isn’t enough. But no amount of identity markers can make up for missing talent or lack of preparedness.

True allyship isn’t about propping up mediocrity or shielding people from accountability. It’s about creating pathways for talented artists from marginalised backgrounds to compete on equal footing, not handing out unearned opportunities in the name of optics.

If we’re serious about building a fairer, more inclusive industry, we need to hold space for two truths. Systemic barriers exist. But not everyone is entitled to success simply because they’ve faced them. We owe marginalised artists the dignity of real feedback, real mentorship and real development, not empty applause or uncritical support that ultimately sets them up for disappointment.

We need more equity. But we also need more honesty.

It’s time for our industry to champion artists not only because of who they are, but because of what they create. We need to invest in talent that’s ready, nurture work that shows promise, and be brave enough to give honest feedback even when it’s uncomfortable.

If you care about building a truly fair music industry, start by supporting initiatives that develop skills, not just platforms. Mentor emerging artists. Offer constructive critique. Back talent that’s ready to grow. Equity isn’t about shortcuts; it’s about ensuring every artist gets the tools, training and opportunities to stand on their own.

I’m committed to an industry that uplifts marginalised voices and holds all of us to the same standards of craft, care and accountability.

We owe each other nothing less.

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