“It's not the intention that counts, but the effect.”
The School of Medicine has adopted new guidelines on preventing discrimination and addressing abuse of power. The guidelines are intended to provide guidance, raise awareness, and help foster a respectful and discrimination-free work and learning environment. We spoke with Dean Prof. Dr. Daniela Dieterich about the background, goals, and significance of this issue for the School.
Professor Dieterich, the School of Medicine has published guidelines on preventing discrimination and addressing abuse of power. Why was it important to the faculty leadership to explicitly place this issue on the agenda?
Because, in the end, it’s always people who are affected. Discrimination and abuse of power often occur where no one is looking—through silence, turning a blind eye, or a lack of awareness of one’s own impact. As the faculty leadership, we bear the responsibility for ensuring that our members can work, learn, and conduct research in a safe and respectful environment. This guide makes our stance clear and binding. We’re not starting from scratch: at our faculty and within the University Medical Center, many people at all levels are committed to fostering fair and respectful interactions. The guidelines bring together this existing commitment within our faculty and the University Medical Center and establish a common framework. Based on my experience, I believe it is important that we consistently address incidents while also taking preventive action. This includes providing clear guidance and indicating where those affected or seeking advice can turn.
Many people associate discrimination with clear-cut transgressions. The guidelines make it clear that it often begins much more subtly. Where do we encounter prejudice or unconscious assumptions more frequently than we realize?
Almost everywhere in everyday life—and usually without malicious intent. It starts with the female student in the surgery department who is told that a certain specialty isn’t for her because she might want to start a family someday. It manifests when someone with an immigrant background is assumed to have difficulty with technical terminology. Or when so-called compliments about appearance are made in a professional context. Taken individually, such situations often seem harmless, sometimes even well-meaning. But they add up; they limit access to opportunities; and they make people feel as though they don’t naturally belong. Precisely because these forms of behavior are so subtle, it’s important to develop an awareness of them—not to monitor one another, but to interact with each other more attentively and mindfully.
A central idea in the guide is that it is not the intention but the impact of behavior that matters. Why is this perspective so significant for modern university medicine?
Because the person affected experiences the impact, not the intention. “I didn’t mean it that way” may be true, but it doesn’t change the fact that someone feels belittled, excluded, or hurt. This perspective shifts the focus from assigning blame to taking responsibility: it calls on us to reflect on the impact of our actions. This is not a moral lecture, but a professional given—just as we in medicine are measured by the outcomes for our patients and not by our intentions. A modern university medical system must be capable of learning. And the ability to learn begins with taking impact seriously.
The guide describes the diverse hierarchies in medicine and science—from students to physicians to professors. They ensure accountability and clear decision-making. At the same time, what is the danger of such structures?
Hierarchies are necessary in medicine. They ensure accountability, clear decisions, and ultimately patient safety. The danger lies not in the hierarchy itself, but in the fact that power imbalances can prevent people from raising concerns or calling out misconduct—especially when power is exercised without reflection. When so much depends on a single person—on their assessment or recommendation—it is difficult to say no. Those in positions of responsibility must be aware of this power imbalance and structure hierarchies in such a way that feedback is explicitly encouraged and critical voices are also heard. For example, when students can openly address the stresses of everyday student life, it helps us initiate concrete improvements—such as changes to the organization of courses or exams. Ultimately, everyone benefits from this.
You yourself have headed the Institute of Pharmacology and Toxicology since 2012 and are now serving your second term as dean. Has your own perspective on leadership, responsibility, and power changed over the course of your career?
Yes, significantly. Anyone who takes on leadership responsibilities quickly realizes that their own impact is greater than they themselves perceive. A casual remark, an assessment, a door that is opened—or not—all of this can carry considerable weight for others. Over the years, I’ve learned that good leadership has less to do with assertiveness than with listening and creating space for others. For me, responsibility today means above all using one’s position consciously and for the benefit of others—and remaining aware of the blind spots we all have.
Magdeburg University Medical Center is a strong research institution—particularly in the neurosciences, immunology, medical technology, imaging, and health services research. This research thrives on diverse perspectives and critical exchange. To what extent does a diverse and non-discriminatory environment contribute to scientific quality?
Science thrives not only on facts, but also on contradiction, uncomfortable questions, and diverse perspectives. Where everyone thinks alike, blind spots arise. Diversity—in background, gender, experience, and mindset—is therefore a factor in scientific quality. However, it can only realize its full potential in an environment where everyone can contribute their views without fear of being belittled. A non-discriminatory culture therefore directly improves the quality of research and patient care.
At the same time, university medicine and Saxony-Anhalt face the challenge of attracting and retaining qualified young physicians. What role do working and learning conditions play in this, beyond pure professional excellence?
A very significant one—and one that is often underestimated. Today, young doctors and researchers do not make their decisions based solely on professional reputation. They also ask: How do people treat one another here? Will I be recognized and supported? Can I set boundaries without fearing negative consequences? Especially in a region like Saxony-Anhalt, which is actively recruiting qualified young talent, a respectful, fair, and supportive culture is a key factor in attracting talent. An institution’s culture determines whether talent stays, whether people can give their best, and whether they are willing to take on responsibility. A culture of openness and appreciation is not merely a nice-to-have but an essential prerequisite for performance and sustainability.
Many people find themselves in situations where they’re unsure whether something has already crossed a line. Or, out of fear of negative consequences, such incidents are often not addressed. How can this guide provide clarity here?
The guidebook deliberately takes the pressure off the need to categorize everything immediately and unambiguously. It provides examples, identifies gray areas, and makes it clear: If you’re unsure, you’re allowed to ask, and if you’re affected, it’s not your fault. We know that shame and the fear of negative consequences are the biggest hurdles—the worry of seeming to overreact, of being seen as untrustworthy, or of harming oneself. That’s why the guide specifically identifies these hurdles and clarifies where to find resources for support. One message is particularly important to me: No one has to assess a situation or get through it alone. And it’s never too early to seek advice—on the contrary, the sooner, the better.
The guide is intended not only for managers but for all members of the faculty. Why is preventing discrimination a shared responsibility?
Because a culture of respect cannot be imposed from above. Leaders bear a special responsibility, but what matters most is how we interact with one another on a daily basis at all levels. Often, it is colleagues or fellow students who first notice that something is wrong and who can make a big difference through solidarity—by saying something, paying attention, or not looking away. Preventing discrimination is a shared responsibility that concerns us all.
To conclude, let’s look ahead to the year 2030: A young doctor, a researcher, or a student consciously chooses Magdeburg. What should that person say about the culture at our faculty?
I hope they’ll say: “Here, I’m seen as a person. Here, I can learn, conduct research, and work without having to pretend to be someone I’m not.” If they chose Magdeburg not only because of the opportunities for research, teaching, and continuing education, but also because word has spread that people here treat one another fairly, respectfully, and humanely, then we’ve achieved exactly what this guide is all about.
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