Social inclusion, that glistening buzzword the politicians dust around speeches like a chef dusts salt just enough to make it look palatable. The premise, in theory, is beautiful: everyone, regardless of gender, race, class, disability, or on which side of the bed they woke up belongs. It’s society’s “no child left behind.” The one catch? Someone is always left behind.

Let’s name a spade a spade: social inclusion is quite like Wi-Fi in a crowded café. Theoretically, it’s available to everyone. Practically, only a few get a decent signal, and the others keep reloading their pages expecting to connect. Governments host conferences, NGOs produce glossy reports, and universities introduce full courses on “inclusive futures.” But if inclusion were really happening, do we have to continue re-announcing it every five minutes like a woefully tardy train?

The only thing with inclusion is that it is in the hands of whoever is doing the including. A country may have “inclusive policies” without privately deciding who exactly deserves to be included. A refugee can be invited in on condition they do not occupy a space on the scarce jobs. Someone with a disability can be celebrated during International Day of Persons with Disabilities, but find the office block still remains out of reach. Women are “empowered” in slogans, but wage gaps obstinately remain unshaken by the poetry.

But irony of ironies: inclusion sells. It’s the golden ticket of modern politics. It makes politicians look enlightened, businesses look progressive, and activists look busy. It’s the ultimate PR makeover for a planet that knows it is exclusionary by nature. Consider this if only all these people were actually included, half the world’s advocacy trade would be unemployed. Social exclusion is, oddly, job security.

Is social inclusion ever really possible? Honestly, no. People are just too good at creating lines between “us” and “them.” If we’re not separating by class, we’re separating along language, accent, color, or team affiliations. Even within movements that demand inclusion, there are inner circles and outer circles, insiders and outsiders. Inclusion, it appears, is always somebody else’s responsibility.

But perhaps that’s the idea: social inclusion isn’t a completed task, it’s a performance. It’s the ongoing struggle of societies to appear better than they really are. And in that process—far from perfect some actual progress does occur. The Wi-Fi at the café may still be unreliable, but now at least more people are connected.

So no, we will never be a utopian society where everyone stands hand in hand in a circle singing “Kumbaya.” But perhaps we can hope to be a society at least recalls to include everyone at the party, even if everyone does not receive a seat at the VIP table. And that’s probably as good as it gets.