At some point, the surgeon has to pick up the knife. When that time comes, the
only thing that matters -- or more precisely, the only thing that should matter -- is whether the surgeon knows his stuff. Or,
for that matter, her stuff.
The surgeon’s gender, the surgeon’s skin color: irrelevant -- of no more importance than the surgeon’s eye color, or hometown. Cast the widest possible net to locate undeveloped talent, to encourage it, to nurture it. Give that talent every reasonable opportunity to emerge.
But at some point, the surgeon has to pick up the knife. The fire captain has to send his people into the burning building.
They need to know what they’re doing.