When you add up all the white faces that dominate mainstream TV today you'd think Australia was back in the 1960s, observes Michael Ebeid as he watches the lunchtime throng in Flinders Lane. If this familiar lament came from the mouth of any other TV executive, you'd be inclined to reply, "Do something about it."

But long before he was appointed to run multicultural public broadcaster SBS in 2011, Ebeid understood the media's role in both creating and reflecting social and cultural inclusion. He remembers how rare it was to see newsreaders George Donikian​ ("especially with a name like that") and John Mangos on TV screens in the 1980s.

He was a 10-year-old migrant kid and had been in Australia for six years when SBS radio started. And though his Egyptian parents spoke English, they enjoyed listening to the Arabic program. Before Ebeid's father died late last year, he asked his son to bring his transistor radio to the hospital so he could keep listening to Arabic programs.

"Michael who?" was the general response in media land when Ebeid was appointed SBS chief executive in June 2011.

One reporter took his relative anonymity one step further, paying the then-ABC marketing executive a back-handed compliment by describing him as "an unassuming corporate strategist".

These days the diminutive Ebeid is better known, even among those who wouldn't count themselves as SBS loyalists. Shows such as Struggle Street, Go Back To Where You Came From and First Contact have thrust SBS and Ebeid to the forefront of some spectacular national debates.

His fondness for Japanese food has brought us to Hako in Flinders Lane, where the manager offers to bring us a selection of house specialties. For close to two hours a stream of delectable dishes arrives: an appetiser includes an oyster and a mound of crab mixed with avocado and cress on a shiso​ leaf; tuna carpaccio, marinated in sake, with mushrooms, edamame, soy beans, cress and vinaigrette; cuttlefish in squid ink tempura, which resembles a plate of charcoal but is "safe to eat", the manager happily assures; silver whiting marinated in kombu​ served with tartare, edible flowers and a plum reduction sauce; and wagyu beef, which lands on the table in thin strips sizzling on a black stone.

Ebeid arrived at SBS at a low ebb in its history. A handful of the station's best-known people had defected and the pursuit of programs with more commercial and populist appeal appeared to have alienated more viewers than it had attracted.

Ebeid seems to have known exactly what he was getting himself into. With a degree in business, 10 years in technology with IBM, 10 years in telecommunications with Optus and several years at the ABC, he foresaw what SBS is today: "a technology and telecommunications and consumer business".

A self-confessed technophile, he says he's always been excited by the advancements of the digital era. He remembers naysayers at Optus questioning why people would send text messages rather than phoning. "Then at the ABC I remember having arguments with people – senior TV executives – who didn't believe anyone would ever watch content on a mobile device."

He says the biggest change at SBS over the period of his tenure has been the internal culture of the organisation. "We very much operate like any commercial business now, people don't have an entitlement attitude; people are passionate about what they do. I think it's infectious. A lot of people at SBS really believe in our purpose of getting Australians to understand each other, the world and our place in it. I think increasingly Australians, particularly the 20-30 age group, want to be connected to the world more than ever before. We're getting a lot of interest in the documentaries we do and overseas programs; people have taken to Danish dramas and foreign films. Whereas 15 years ago people would have said subtitles are not for me, now there's a real appreciation, not just for watching subtitled shows, but getting a window into someone else's culture."

Ebeid's is a typical Australian migrant story. Born in Cairo, he emigrated with his parents and older brother when he was three. As an engineer, his father had a job waiting for him and was quickly welcomed in his adopted homeland. His mother was a secretary at Telecom, as it was then known.

He grew up in what he says was a very Christian household (his mother still attends Coptic Orthodox church weekly). Ironically enough, Ebeid's family first lived in Toongabbie, a neighbouring suburb of Mount Druitt in Sydney's west, until Michael was 12, a detail that was never mentioned when SBS and Ebeid personally came under attack for the confronting documentary Struggle Street.

At Epping Boys High School, his olive skin stood out among 1000-odd white faces. "There were maybe two Asian families, a couple of Greeks, a few Italians. My brother's nickname was Blackie. Everyone called him Blackie, including the teachers. Can you imagine that today? When I came along three years later my nickname was Little Blackie."

Today, Ebeid recalls it as a term of endearment. "I grew up with that casual racism where it was never meant with any malice, so I've not taken it too seriously from that perspective."

In any case, he says he's experienced more prejudice as a gay man than as a migrant. He is a passionate supporter of marriage equality, pointing out that as an employer of over 1000 people, SBS would not be allowed to discriminate against gays and lesbians in the way that the nation presently does.

Several months ago, his sexuality was targeted in a belittling news story in Sydney's Daily Telegraph. In a clumsy attempt to contrast the people responsible for making Struggle Street and its disenfranchised subjects, the paper "revealed" that Ebeid lived in Sydney's upscale eastern suburbs "with his younger boyfriend".

"If it was an article about Q&A they wouldn't make any reference to Mark Scott's wife, neither would they do that to David Gyngell​ or Tim Worner​," he says referring to the heads of the ABC, Nine and Seven, respectively.

Ebeid does not resile from the polarising effect that many of the shows SBS has commissioned has had on the public. "We aim to get the nation talking about our shows. As a public broadcaster our job is to get people thinking about the universe and our society in a way they may not normally."

The first season of Go Back To Where You Came From, in which ordinary Australians and public figures retrace refugees' journeys, was commissioned before Ebeid's arrival, but he has been at the helm for the broadcast of all three seasons of the controversial show.

"I think you have to show all perspectives on some of these issues, particularly with asylum seekers," he says in defence of the show, which many argue consolidates entrenched positions on the pressing issue of refugees as much as it challenges. "There is a high level of ignorance around the statistics, the reasons people come to Australia, the reasons people become refugees. Some people truly believe it's country shopping and that there's nothing wrong with the refugees' homelands."

In contrast to the better-funded ABC, Ebeid believes that SBS has licence to be edgier, "a little more controversial and creative in coming up with how to tell stories. Our budgets are thin, so when we do a commission we need it to be something that's going to get the nation talking. That's very intentional".

To the extent that SBS has managed to escape the attacks from Canberra to which the ABC is routinely subjected, Ebeid believes it is due largely to the fact that SBS does less political reporting and analysis.

Not that SBS gets a free ride. A bill that would have allowed it to increase advertising – and therefore the revenue it needs to commission programs – was rejected by the Senate amid heavy lobbying by the commercial networks protective of their financial quarry. There have been leaked memos alleging a push for "lighter" less serious news, changes to the format of the international affairs show Dateline, and the sacking of sport reporter Scott McIntyre for a series of provocative tweets questioning the sanctity of Anzac Day.

Choosing his words carefully, Ebeid acknowledges McIntyre has attempted to claim for unfair dismissal but says there has been no settlement. He defends SBS' actions in dismissing McIntyre.

"If you, as a journalist at The Age, say something outrageous on social media, something you wouldn't write in a column, and it's offensive, how can that not affect you as a journalist?"

Nor does he regard the incident as a litmus test of the blurry line between professional duty and the personal expressions of social media, pointing out that a hospital nurse or a flight attendant would be similarly reprimanded for unacceptable behaviour back in the day.

"To be able to be part of something as special as SBS is a real honour. I love the fact that in our own way we contribute to society through getting people to understand each other better and that's really what we're about, helping people become Australians, whether it's migrants or people who have been here for 200 years or Indigenous Australians".