The mass killings at the gay nightclub in Orlando have cast a terrible pall on Pride season this year. One recurring theme in the discussion is the importance of gay nightclubs as safe spaces — refuges, havens or sacred places — where members of the LGBTQ community can let their guard down and be themselves. Gay bars and clubs have long been understood to have this important role in the gay community, primarily because there are few other spaces where LGBTQ people can truly feel safe.

On the surface, the business communities in Canada and the United States, two countries where gay marriage has been legalized, may well believe their workspaces seek to do the same. Indeed, in the recent “Pride and Prejudice” Economist Intelligence Unit report, most people working in a North American context recognize the value of a diverse workforce, including of sexual diversity.

But, there is substantial evidence that this desire for diversity has not translated into psychological safety in the workplace. According to the Human Rights Campaign, 53 per cent of LGBTQ people in the U.S. closet themselves at least to some extent at work. We find similar experiences in Canada.

This past academic year, we hosted a panel of top Canadian executives at the Rotman School on “Being Out and a Leader at Work.” They talked about how “coming out” is not something one does once, but takes place at work over and over again. They distinguished between “the big reveal” and the need to come out each time they moved to a new part of the organization, started working with a new team, or engaged with a new client.

The panellists also said they have to make a choice each time, assessing whether it is “safe” to come out in that situation or not. Conversations with our own MBA students similarly reflect these concerns: many are out in other parts of their life but not at school, or out at school but not when they start new jobs after graduation. Many may even see the situation as more nuanced than that.

Kenji Yoshino, legal scholar and author of Covering suggests that even in supposedly tolerant settings, LGBTQ people may feel constrained, if not to “pass” as straight, at least to “cover” by not putting their gay identities too far forward — a sort of, “you can be gay, but not too gay” pressure to conform.

What is the cost of this lack of safety? The panellists at our Rotman School event talked about the “tax” on their mental energies that came from having to always be alert to these issues and make decisions about whether to come out in each situation. They argued they and other LGBTQ workers would be more productive and engaged in their work if they didn’t have to pay this tax.

Many advocates for diversity “make the case” by suggesting diversity improves innovation, decision making and creativity because it introduces different points of view. But, this argument misses the other side to the coin: there are costs to the individuals and to their ability to work effectively if they cannot bring their whole selves to work.

What makes a space safe? And, why might the corporate world not feel safe to many? A safe space is about trust, and to create it, people look to connect with others through what they believe to be shared experiences.

Some point out it is the very heteronormativity (the assumption that heterosexuality is the norm or standard) in our society, even in a Canadian context where gay marriage has been legal for more than a decade, which creates a lack of safety.

It’s not just when the “guys” go out to a strip club (you would think this didn’t happen anymore at work, but it does), but also, when a co-worker or client sees a wedding ring on a man’s finger and asks about his wife. Perhaps an innocent gesture, but it puts that person in the position of having to make the choice: “Do I come out by saying, ‘Well, not my wife, but my husband?’ or do I make some vague comment that allows me to get out of the situation?”

This is the main reason the conversation is turning from diversity per se to inclusion. Diversity does not create safety, but inclusiveness does. Organizations and individuals must consider all the ways — both large and small — that their culture and behaviours contribute to hostility or even just heteronormativity, either of which can prevent people from feeling safe.

Sarah Kaplan and Geoff Leonardelli are professors at the Rotman School of Management, University of Toronto, and co-advisors of Rotman’s MBA LGBTQA student club, The Letters.