What does diversity and inclusion mean to you?

It is a question I have been asked many times over the years.

And one I have written about consistently, from 2021 through to now.

Because for me, this has never been a trend.
It has been a belief.

A commitment I made over 35 years ago.

That difference matters.

Across age.
Sex.
Colour.
Creed.
Background.
And the way we think and experience the world.

Not as something to accommodate.

But as something to build with.

Because the strongest teams I have ever been part of were not the most aligned.

They were the most diverse.

Diverse in perspective.
Diverse in experience.
Diverse in how problems were approached and solved.

And that difference created something powerful.

Better thinking.
Better challenge.
Better outcomes.

But diversity on its own is not enough.

Inclusion is what brings it to life.

Inclusion is about creating an environment where people feel able to contribute.
Where voices are heard.
Where challenge is welcomed, not avoided.

Where people can bring their whole selves to work.

Not just the parts that feel acceptable.

Over the years, I have seen both the progress we have made and the work that still remains.

Because inclusion is not a statement.

It is a practice.

It is built in the everyday moments.

Who is invited into the room.
Who is listened to.
Who is developed.
Who is sponsored.
Who is given the opportunity to lead.

And ultimately, who feels they belong.

I continue to believe this deeply.

Not just because it is the right thing to do.

But because it is how we build better organisations.

More resilient.
More innovative.
More human.

What was it like receiving my OBE?

It is a question I am sometimes asked, and it is one that still makes me pause.

Because the memory is not just about the award itself.

It is about the moment.

The OBE investiture took place at Windsor Castle and was, in every sense, quintessentially British.

Beautifully organised.
Rich in tradition.
Full of quiet pageantry.

My guest that day was my mother.

She seemed to enjoy every part of it, and I remember being particularly struck by the care and support she received in her wheelchair. It mattered.

I wore an emerald green silk Dolce & Gabbana dress and a black hat, and joined a queue of remarkable individuals, each with their own story, each there for very different contributions.

And then it was my turn.

As I attempted what I can only describe as a slightly clumsy curtsy, The Queen asked me:

“So global electronics… is that like the iPad?”

I smiled and said, “Yes, and other devices for consumers and businesses.”

To which she replied, “Very good.”

Only months earlier, Apple had launched the iPad with great fanfare at their Regent Street store, which Steve Jobs himself had opened just a few years before.

It felt like one of those moments where worlds briefly connect.

Tradition and technology.
History and innovation.

To this day, I do not know who nominated me.

Sir Peter Gershon later told me it was not him, and over the years I have learned that there are even firms who will help people position themselves for such honours.

But mine remains, quite happily, a mystery.

And perhaps that makes it more special.

What I do remember very clearly is how it felt.

Not just to receive the honour.

But to feel seen.

To feel that my voice, and the work I had been part of, had been recognised at that level.

It was something I did not expect.

And something I remain grateful for.

In the years that followed, I had the privilege of being invited to a number of lunches at Buckingham Palace, each one offering a different perspective on service, contribution and leadership.

But one of my favourite memories from that time is far simpler.

After the ceremony, I invited close family to lunch near Windsor.

The teenagers in the group decided to present on what they would like to receive their own OBEs for in the future.

It was thoughtful.
It was funny.
And it was full of ambition.

A reminder, in its own way, of why recognition matters.

Not just for what has been done.

But for what it inspires in others.

Over the years, I have been fortunate to receive a number of awards.

And each has meant something.

But the ones that stay closest to me are those that reflect creativity and contribution.

Being named in Fast Company’s Most Creative People in Business.

Being inducted into the Women in Technology Hall of Fame.

Moments that recognise not just outcomes, but ideas.

And I will never forget travelling to Reims for the Veuve Clicquot Businesswoman of the Year Award.

Standing there, with a vine planted alongside one of my heroines, Anita Roddick, was incredibly special.

Because in those moments, you are reminded that you are part of something bigger.

A continuum of people building, challenging, creating and contributing in their own way.

Awards are not the goal.

But they do create a moment to pause.

To reflect.

And to say thank you.

And for that, I remain very grateful.