The Hidden Discrimination Affecting 270 Million People. And How the UN is Responding

Imagine being told you cannot live in a certain neighborhood, cannot apply for certain jobs, and cannot marry outside your community. Not because of anything you did. But simply because of the family you were born into.

For more than 270 million people around the world, this is not just a story. It is their daily reality.

This form of discrimination, known as discrimination based on work and descent, affects communities in Asia, Africa, Europe, and the Americas. It works a lot like caste systems. It decides what jobs you can do, where you can live, who you can marry, and even whether you are treated as fully human by society.

These are people you may not have heard of. Communities like the Dalits in South Asia. The Burakumin in Japan. The Haratine in Mauritania. The Quilombola in Brazil. The Osu in Nigeria. The Roma in Europe. And many others.

Their experience is often invisible to the global public. But change is beginning to happen.

Earlier this year, something historic took place at the United Nations. When the UN Human Rights Council opened its 59th session, the High Commissioner for Human Rights, Volker Türk, stood on stage and called attention to this form of discrimination. He described it as one of the world’s oldest but least discussed human rights issues. And he celebrated a breakthrough moment—the adoption of Resolution 619 by the African Commission on Human and Peoples’ Rights. This resolution is the first of its kind in Africa to directly recognize discrimination based on work and descent as a human rights violation.

This might seem like a small step. But for millions of people, it is a powerful signal that their struggle is being seen, heard, and taken seriously on a global stage.

The road to this moment has been long. It started more than two decades ago. Back in 2001, at the World Conference Against Racism in Durban, civil society groups demanded that governments recognize and criminalize caste-based discrimination. A year earlier, the UN Sub-Commission had already passed a resolution calling this form of exclusion a violation of international law. That resolution led to years of research, reports, and recommendations.

By 2009, the UN Human Rights Council had published a set of Draft Principles. This document basically laid out a blueprint for how governments could fight and eliminate discrimination based on work and descent. But like many UN efforts, turning words into action has been a challenge.

The Global Forum of Communities Discriminated on Work and Descent (known as GFoD) has been pushing the UN to do more. Every year, they show up at the Human Rights Council demanding that countries pass a dedicated resolution. They want the Council to condemn this discrimination clearly, endorse the 2009 Principles, and create a formal process to track progress.

So far, a standalone resolution hasn’t passed. But something has shifted. Today, conversations at the Human Rights Council routinely mention caste, forced occupations, and inherited discrimination. More panels, more side events, and more attention are happening every year.

This issue isn’t just discussed in one corner of the UN. It now shows up in many spaces.

At the Forum on Minority Issues, special rapporteurs have raised it repeatedly. At the UN Forum on Business and Human Rights, advocates have exposed how caste discrimination creeps into global supply chains—affecting who gets the lowest paid, most dangerous jobs in factories and farms.

At the High Level Political Forum, where governments discuss sustainable development goals, the voices of these communities are now part of the official conversation. And during the Universal Periodic Review—a process where every country’s human rights record is reviewed—the issue is being raised too. For example, in 2025, a coalition documented caste-based discrimination in The Gambia.

Even spaces focused on gender equality are paying attention. The Commission on the Status of Women has started to talk about how women and girls from these communities face double discrimination—not just because of their caste or descent, but also because of their gender.

A powerful example of change happened recently at the ECOSOC Youth Forum. Naveen Gautam, a young Dalit leader, stood on the main stage—not just as a speaker, but as the moderator of a plenary session. His words represented not just himself, but millions of young people whose voices have been ignored for generations. It was the first time someone from a community discriminated on work and descent had held that role.

The United Nations has also developed concrete tools to help countries address this issue. There is official guidance on how governments can write laws, budget for inclusion, and collect data to track progress. UN funds have supported grassroots organizations that are freeing people from bonded labor and helping communities build new futures.

Still, the biggest challenge is political will. Some governments argue this issue is a “domestic matter” or something rooted in “culture” and refuse to act. Others pass laws but fail to enforce them.

And yet, the global conversation has shifted. Twenty years ago, this form of discrimination wasn’t even mentioned in most human rights discussions. Today, it is part of the official language of the United Nations. That means people affected by it can point to global commitments and demand change.

This isn’t just about documents and resolutions. It’s about whether a child is told they cannot dream of becoming a doctor. It’s about whether a family is allowed to own land or whether they are forced into generational poverty. It’s about dignity, equality, and freedom.

The UN’s involvement shows that the world is beginning to reckon with this injustice. But paper commitments are not enough. What is needed now is for governments to act. To make this discrimination not just unacceptable in words, but impossible in practice.

The fight is far from over. But the ground is shifting. And that matters.