Major events frequently treat inclusion as a bolt-on—referenced in speeches and vision documents, but rarely integrated into the DNA of event planning. Shushu points out that when inclusion is discussed at all, it tends to be in vague or rhetorical terms: “Legacy” becomes a catch-all phrase, invoked to justify disruption, but rarely tied to specific, measurable outcomes for local people. In London 2012, for instance, physical regeneration was praised as a success story - and it was for many - but we should also remember the residents in East London who can be displaced, priced out, or left behind (Jakar, & Philippou 2025) as new developments often cater to incoming demographics with higher incomes and different lifestyles.

This isn’t a failure of execution—it’s a failure of design. Without clear strategies, inclusive metrics, and early engagement with disadvantaged communities, even the most well-intentioned legacy plans risk reinforcing the very inequalities they aim to solve. The uncomfortable truth is that those who benefit most are often the usual suspects: developers, infrastructure firms, and stakeholders with access to decision-making power.

One of the most striking contributions from Shushu is her insistence that we move beyond simplistic notions of “disadvantage.” Socioeconomic status is only one axis. Communities may also be socially, culturally, and systemically excluded—facing language barriers, discrimination, or historical marginalisation that aren’t captured by income alone. Moreover, disadvantage is layered (Chen 2022): a young, unemployed person from an ethnic minority background in Birmingham faces very different challenges than an elderly resident displaced by urban regeneration in Rio de Janiero.

Effective inclusion demands that we acknowledge this complexity and design accordingly. That means engaging with local data, investing in participatory processes, and co-producing legacy objectives with affected communities from day one (Chen 2023). The general “community outreach” efforts that typify many event strategies simply won’t cut it. As Shushu notes, inclusion isn’t something that happens once the planning is done—it needs to be integrated from the very beginning, not sprinkled on top.

Despite these critiques, the story isn’t all bleak. There are emerging examples of legacy being done differently—most notably Birmingham’s post-event actions - The £70m underspend were reinvested in the region under the Levelling-Up Steering Principle (West Midlands Combined Authority (WMCA). (2023a)). Co-creation efforts between policy, practice and research—embodied in the collaborative work of Birmingham City Council, Sport Birmingham, Birmingham Race Impact Group and the University of Birmingham—aim to understand and unlock the core challenges faced by marginalised communities in event engagement (Chen, et al,. 2025a). Using a strengths-based framework rather than a deficit model that treats disadvantaged groups as problems to be “fixed,” the project explored how existing resources, knowledge and skill sets of local talent can be elevated in the context and opportunities presented by a series of major events coming to the region (Chen, et al., 2025b), backed by Birmingham’s Golden Decade Strategy (Birmingham City Council).

Crucially, this was not accidental. It was the product of persistent advocacy by academics, community leaders, and local government actors who were willing to listen and act. It shows that legacy can be iterative and responsive—but only if we accept that the work of inclusion doesn’t end when the medals are handed out. Instead of dismantling legacy teams post-event (a common practice), Birmingham chose to reinvest and restructure, treating legacy as a long-term commitment, not a one-off project (West Midlands Combined Authority (WMCA). (2023b)).

This case also shows that inclusion can become a competitive advantage for cities. As second-tier cities increasingly build diversified event portfolios (Liang, et al,. 2021), the ability to show inclusive outcomes will become a key factor in securing funding, political support, and social licence to operate. In that sense, legacy isn’t just a moral imperative—it’s a strategic one.