Higher, more, tougher – better?
Ahead of International Women’s Day on 8 March, the rallying cry to have more women in leadership positions is loud and clear. But very few women make it into leadership – and some prominent women leaders have recently decided to quit, citing unbearable and inhumane working conditions. Are our rallying calls to strive for higher, more, tougher resulting in what we want? I believe we’re missing a key piece that is important to so many women I know, and also to me personally: vulnerability.
Making up half of the global population, women are entitled to half the sky (and at least half of CEO and board roles, half of parliamentarian seats, and should make up half of those posing for head of state and government photos). I’ve advocated for this for decades because I believe in equality and diversity.
I have, however, also openly questioned the argument that women leaders are somehow better than their male counterparts. I believe in equality and diversity, not matriarchy.
Girls and young women are in most countries trained to strive for ever higher and more. Women CEOs and heads of state are celebrated as role models. And as the path to success – often defined as linear promotions, with more staff, budgets, and power – has many hurdles, and there are many sharp elbows along the way, women are trained to toughen up.
Teflon suits, poker faces, power poses
In one of my first managerial jobs, I experienced some sharp elbows and backstabbing by people I perhaps naively trusted. It hurt, and also made me question what was going on in the workforce. How were staff and managers incentivized to behave, compete, or collaborate? What type of behavior was rewarded, perhaps openly tolerated?
I didn’t feel well in this situation and sought advice from our experienced HR director. She advised me to imagine dressing in a “teflon suit” each morning, to feel like I was actively protecting myself. Instead of feeling stronger, I felt disillusioned. (My husband early on in his career in a coaching session was advised to practice power poses on video. He declined.)
My generation of women (and men too) has been trained this way: toughen up, don’t ever let your guard down, lower the tone of your natural voice to have more authority, and lean in (like successful men do).
Fix the system, not the women
Thankfully, many younger advocates have moved on from trying to “fix women” this way. They have instead focused on fixing systems that keep women disempowered, and unable to take on leadership roles, e.g. due to pay gaps, social norms, lack of child and elderly care support systems, or because of how decisions on leadership positions are made (by male boards, selecting male CEOs).
As a political scientist and economist, I’ve for many years supported this advocacy. Systems and norms really matter as gender equality in e.g. Nordic countries show. However, systems are not the panacea either, as women in Nordic countries still continue to lag behind men in pay, management, and company ownership, and are behind the United States – a country with weak social support systems – in terms of female workforce participation rates.
Another approach to fix systems is to address promotion systems within companies and organisations. There are surprisingly many women in important roles, but most women get stuck in middle-management roles, because they tend to be promoted based on merit as staff, and are not trained in strategic competencies. The solution has been to provide leadership coaching to women. Has it worked? Look back to the numbers of women in leadership.
What’s going wrong? What’s going on?
Something is not adding up. Men are defending their turf, and boys’ clubs are ensuring women are left out. Women have not been trained or coached or toughened up enough. Our tax, social, and payment systems have not been fixed yet. Or, as most of us suspect, simply all of the above.
Based on my personal experience (at the age of 43, and having worked for 20 years), and having observed so many women around me, something else is going on. Many of us feel vulnerable when things don’t feel like they are right (for our health, for our wellbeing, for our families, for other people). We’re seeking guidance from HR managers, mentors, coaches (and an increasing number from therapists).
And many of us, myself included, are refusing to “toughen up”. We see our vulnerability as a strength, as what makes us authentic, as our moral compass, and as an essential part of our identity. Our vulnerability is what cries out in alarm when all we do is dress in teflon suits, and try to get through sharp elbows day in and out, or learn that we have to elbow ourselves to succeed.
Like myself, so many women around are asking what the point is, when leadership seems to lead to many more endless battles (with other leaders, with boards, with investors), and the results of your work benefit a political and economic system where a few people continue to get richer, and billions are left worse off. Very few women I know are interested in strutting around in tailored suits, flaunting their staff numbers and budgets (although I confess, I’ve in my recent career seen a few of those too.) Very few women I know take their own physical and mental health lightly, not to mention that of their families, or staff around them.
Celebrate vulnerability
On this International Women’s Day, I’m celebrating the vulnerability of women around me. Many have started dropping out of the rat race for leadership positions, as I myself decided as well a few years ago, in a situation where all of my alarm bells were screaming “get out”. Many have decided not to “stick it out”, hoping something will change, perhaps wondering whether we ourselves have to change.
I will continue to advocate for gender parity, across all levels and in leadership. I still believe women leaders as role models are important, and gender diversity in leadership is essential. One day, I hope I can still have a position that lets me do what I hope I can with my training and skills, and vision for change. But not at all costs.
I have over the past years written this blog, hoping that my transition journey from a linear career model can inspire others to take alternative paths too. Many people have gotten in touch to thank me for showing my vulnerability publicly. I didn’t start this journey with this intention, but if this is what helps others, it feels like a worthwhile path.
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Katri Bertram 