Efforts to tackle harassment of women have been half-hearted. But the problem goes far beyond sexual, physical, or psychological harassment — women simply aren’t respected.
Hey lady, smile! (Or don’t if you want to have a career.)
In 2024, women’s rights are not in a great state. If you follow the news, and if you know the data, the near future doesn’t look rosy if you are a girl or a woman. Hopes that something would finally change with the #MeToo movement have faded into the past. Simply look at this year’s US Presidential election or half-hearted reactions to sexual harassment scandals elsewhere. The Economist in a recent article showed that men’s views on women are taking a turn for the worse. As a woman and mother of four children (three of whom are girls), it breaks my heart to see how little the world cares about women’s rights.
I have personally been one of the few lucky women who have not experienced violence or sexual harassment due to my gender at home or at work. 1 in 3 women (and 1 in 9 men) experience sexual or physical violence during their lifetime; over half of women have been harassed at work. Yet again and again throughout my career, I have felt disrespect due to being a woman.
I believe that to understand violence and harassment – and continuing half-hearted responses thereto – we have to go beyond #MeToo to address the lack of respect for women.
I have to confess that I was recently asked by two younger female colleagues how I deal with situations where I am not invited to or listened to in meetings. My response was honest yet utterly depressing: I have in such situations so far relied on a male colleague I know well (boss, board member, etc.) to join me. The number of times male counterparts have not even bothered to respond to my messages, not to mention bothered to speak to me, have been so numerous that I have lost count. It hasn’t made a difference whether I’ve been the most senior person, known to be the person with the most expertise on the issue, known to manage the respective work process, or simply known to be doing all the work — I’ve been ignored, even ghosted, until a man has joined me.
Another personal story: Very early in my career, I was told the opposite of what women are often told: smile more. I smile a lot in social situations (unless I’m furious). I was told that I should smile less. People would not take me seriously otherwise. Just imagine how depressing that sounds. Imagine as a parent telling your daughters: the key to success is not to smile.
I’m sharing these rather random anecdotes because there are millions of these. I’m sharing a few to showcase that millions and millions of women experience these types of situations – and feedback – every single day. These situations are not criminal, they are probably not even morally red-line — yet they add up, they wear you down, they ultimately lead to women (such as myself) asking themselves: am I not allowed to be me, and am I not good enough being me?
In 2024, women’s rights are not in a good state.
If you are a woman, you are most likely feeling it, every single day.
If you are a man, I hope you listen and read this. I hope you are not one of those men profiled in that Economist article I cited above, ready to show women their “real” place, and “defend” what you believe you are entitled to. I hope you think about what respect means, also in everyday actions that may seem meaningless, but may mean the world to someone else.
I was raised in the 1980s and 90s by my Finnish parents to aim for any goal I aspired to. Despite my father’s frequent hints that I should become an engineer or go into forestry, and settle down in Finland after growing up in part in Austria, both of my parents supported me in all my endeavours, nudging me to become a financially independent woman. Gender never, ever, played a role in our discussions at home or in school when we spoke about career paths and aspirations.
When I began my studies in economics and political science, and later international relations at the LSE in London, gender studies was one course I consciously avoided. Tarja Halonen had in 2000 become Finland’s first female President (2000-2012), and soon after I moved to Germany, Angela Merkel became Germany’s first female Chancellor (2005-2021). Gender equality was progressing, and women leaders were becoming an accepted norm in many countries. I felt there were more urgent challenges to tackle.
In 2016, with a career and international leadership position at Save the Children, and having had my fourth child the year before, I had changed my mind. Yes, a handful of women leaders existed, but gender inequalities, gender pay gaps, and discrimination were a statistical and proven reality that I worked with daily, and had also begun affecting my own life through the so-called motherhood penalty (in recruitment, promotions, and pay, but also social norms to stay at home with my children). Having worked in security policy for a few years after graduation, I had also learned what it (literally) meant to be the only woman in some rooms.
In 2014, I for this reason founded an initiative to support more women in Germany to have successful careers, but not give up on their hopes to have children. I also began advocating publicly for more women in leadership positions, including for Hillary Clinton during the US Presidential election, Helen Clark for UN Secretary General, and Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala for World Bank President. I began calling for gender quotas, as I saw that progress in politics, and especially in the private sector, was lagging or fully stalling.
Never, though, in my wildest fears, did I expect the reversal in gender equality and women’s leadership positions that has since followed.
Sexual reproductive health and rights are being contested not only in the US, but also in European countries, which in 2023 is resulting in several regional and international agreements stalling or going backwards, not forwards.
Less than 30 (out of 195) countries now have female heads of state or government, and the number keeps falling. Women comprise between 18 and 36 percent of parliamentarians across regions. Women CEOs are in single-digit percentages, and board roleshave stagnated at around 25 percent and begun to fall.
In a recent SDG progress report, the UN Secretary-General warns that, at current rates, it will take more than 140 years for women to be represented equally in positions of power and in the workplace. And this assumes progress does not stall further.
During my summer vacation, I read former Prime Minister of New Zealand Helen Clark’s book Women, Equality, Power, which includes selected speeches from her career from 1981 to 2018. Friends of mine, who know that I’ve been worrying a lot about women leaders dropping like flies, and gender equality being backtracked in countries such as the US and Italy, recently gifted me with two books on the role of women in former Eastern and current (unified) Germany (Ostfrauen and Guten Morgen, du Schöne), which I read as well. All three books are stories of progress. Yes, there are challenges, and gender inequalities and lack of rapid progress on women’s leadership is a reality. But things are moving in the right direction, over years and decades.
Helen Clark in her book consistently makes the case that progress on gender equality is linked to having women leaders. Most progress, ranging from issues like reducing gender-based violence or the gender pay gap, or ensuring women have the right to paid maternity leave and affordable childcare, has happened when women lead and make up significant shares in parliament. Without women in leadership positions, we’re unlikely to see gender raised to the top of the agenda.
In my experience, not all women leaders are by default good leaders, nor do all women further gender equality (all alarm bells should be ringing here for Italy’s first and current female prime minister Meloni). Leadership attributes, and most importantly goals and values, are more important than gender, in my opinion. This is why I strongly believe in feminist policy that includes men (and boys), and in value-based leadership. I for this reason also advocate for leadership parity, not matriarchy to replace patriarchy. We need diverse role models for our children and next generations.
Most urgently, we need to halt the reversal we’re currently experiencing on gender equality, including basic women’s and human rights. For this we need to tackle polarisation and extreme right-wing nationalism, which degrades different population groups – often including women – to a category that is subhuman, and not entitled to bodily autonomy and legal rights. We also need to take a hard look at working conditions, which are untenable or even unbearable for working mothers in particular.
Raising my three daughters and one son, I’m trying to give them all the options and hopes for the future that my parents gave me. Without more leaders who are ready to put gender equality back on the highest agenda, this will remain an aspiration. As with climate change, we are currently leaving the world worse off, and on a track of regress, for the next generation. This is our failure, and it is our responsibility to right the current wrongs.
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.
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.
This blog is about my personal experiences juggling four pregnancies and being in the job market, including while applying for and changing jobs. I also share my experiences from over ten years in recruiting staff, some of who were pregnant.
I once had a boss who walked into the office kitchen, declaring “Seriously, if anyone else announces they are pregnant, I’m going to quit.” To a group of young women.
I wished she would quit. What if one of those young women were early in their pregnancy, terrified she’d now lose her job or a promotion? What if one of them had just planned to get pregnant, and now put off that pregnancy for years – forever?
Another boss of mine once vetoed a recruitment of a dream candidate for my team. The candidate had after interviewing informed us she was pregnant, and my boss had fired back that the candidate had misled us, and this was unlikely to work.
The dream candidate dropped out and joined another team. I also left shortly thereafter.
Should I tell?
The above experiences are depressing, even more depressing because they are so common, and utterly depressing because both of these bosses were women – one who herself had children.
There is still a huge amount of discrimination against pregnant women, and women in childbearing age.
Some countries for this reason don’t legally allow for explicit questions about family planning in an interview process.
I myself have kept silent about having children for several years because of such discrimination. Because I really wanted that job – and had children, or wanted to get pregnant (again).
But as the above cases show as well, did I really want a job with a boss who didn’t treat staff like human beings? Who potentially drove people to not have children, terminate pregnancies, or just give up on trying to stay in the job market?
No, I didn’t want such jobs. I didn’t want to work under such leadership. And I didn’t want to support such toxic culture that devalued the private lives of human beings.
So I started to tell. I started to share publicly that I have children. Two, three, eventually four.
I once interviewed for a job, and was accepted. Two days later, I found out I was pregnant. I told my boss immediately. He was fully supportive. I was promoted during my pregnancy. We figured out my maternity leave. I returned and was again promoted.
Another boss of mine, after I told him I was pregnant, started bringing cake to our weekly meetings, to make sure I was getting enough calories. He brought cookies and presents to my home after I gave birth. We worked on a large research grant together, which was accepted.
Should I quit?
When I became pregnant with my first child, I was in the middle of a second Masters degree. My supervisor at the time told me to quit the high-intensity program, in her view I wouldn’t be able to cope with a baby.
Another professor, who later became the University President, supported me, and after switching supervisors I graduated second in my class, with a small baby.
My third child was born right after I finished a two-year position, which was to be renewed once I was ready to return. Two weeks after giving birth, I was informed my maternity cover would replace me, and I was left with a baby, but no job to return to.
I applied for other jobs. I rejoined the job market.
I know of so many people who because of similar experiences have put off having children for years, and are now having trouble getting pregnant.
I know of even more women who had good jobs, and who dropped down ladders with each pregnancy and baby, some dropping out of the job market fully.
I have since added all of the above to my list of “never, ever, treat people that way when you have the power to influence a decision or decide.”
Immediate decisions, immediate support
I once recruited for a full-time position, and found a dream candidate. At the end of the interview, she announced she had just given birth, and asked whether she could start a few months later, part-time.
I immediately agreed I’d try to support this, as did my own boss. She has been one of the best staff members I ever recruited.
I tried to give back what my own boss had given me: immediate support. Not an “oh, dear, well let’s see how we can figure something out.” Not an “erm, I’ll need to think about that.” But a “congratulations – and I’ll do everything I can to make this work.”
I once had another boss, who proactively tried to support maternity and paternity leaves, and smooth transitions back to work. She offered options to start working on projects again from home, once the parent was ready, and to return with 5-10% work time, and then ramp up to part-time and full-time once the parent was ready.
I asked her about this. Her response was that the parents who have seen such support, are her happiest employees – and most productive. They overcompensate.
Human beings, not just staff
In over a decade of supervising staff, I’ve dealt with pregnancies that just weren’t happening, and rounds of fertility treatments and missed meetings and hours at the office. I’ve dealt with miscarriages, and longer stays at the hospital. I’ve dealt with child sick days and months of maternity leave. I’ve dealt with CVs with large gaps that could stem from childcare.
I’ve recruited, managed, and supported human beings – not just staff.
Because I have have been a human being as well, as staff, as a manager, as a recruiter.
Everyone has non-work needs
As a manager, I always made a conscious point of saying (and trying to act) that every person has non-work needs. Some just need time to travel and wind down, others need to be active in their community or politically. Some need to skydive. Some have a baby to breastfeed at home. Others a sick child or older parent.
There’s still so much to do in this area, and if we don’t, the consequences are dire. The pay gap between women and men skyrockets with each additional child. Women with children are rarely in the highest leadership positions. Pension poverty is a reality for the majority of women. And too many people have delayed or fully sacrificed their hopes for a family in order to progress in their careers.
There are too many anecdotes and stories like the above, where unacceptable things have been said or done.
There are thankfully also good people and managers out there. People who have through their support and kindness made my own career possible – while allowing me to have a family.
Feel free to share your own story. This is another taboo are I’d like to try to help break. This is an insight into my story.
I’m a mother of four children, aged between 5 and 15. A year ago, both my husband and I were working in a high-intensity full-time positions. Aside from short parental leaves (which both my husband and I shared fairly equally), I have always worked.
We balanced our careers by rotating every few years, with one covering more family responsibilities while the other made career changes or jumps. We shared childcare and household tasks fairly equally. And our childcare was organised around daycare, school, afternoon clubs, and the support of babysitters in the late afternoons – and occasional emergency or vacation support by grandparents.
And then came Covid
Right as the Covid19 pandemic hit, I had decided to leave my full-time position to search for more balance, meaning and impact in my work.
Initially, as Germany (where we live) went into hard lockdown in Spring 2020, and all four children moved to home and online schooling (and no care for my youngest), it felt like perfect timing. I was not forced to juggle a stressful job with long hours and days (and evenings) full of meetings, but could squeeze in some learning, thinking and writing into (rare) free moments. I decided to found a small platform and consulting company to focus on issues I care about.
After two years where my husband had “covered my back” for my career, I figured that this was now my turn. We felt grateful at the time to have one secure job, and knowing that one parent was fully there for our children.
Half a year into lockdowns, I wrote about the joys, burdens, and also opportunities linked to being a parent during the Covid19 pandemic. Summarising these lessons, I wrote that “this pandemic has been the best – if harshest – lesson I have ever had in my nearly 15 years of being a parent.”
And lockdowns continued
Several months later – a year into lockdowns, and still in the middle of what has been a 4-month long hard lockdown in Germany – the situation has again changed for me.
What started as a temporary state currently feels permanent. I’m fully covering childcare, online schooling, and nearly all household logistics.
My earnings have plummeted from a well-paid job to consulting work to a near zero, as I’m currently not able or willing to commit to projects that I’m not confident I can be available for or deliver on. Having worked for an international organisation, I’m not entitled to most social security benefits.
The impact of Covid19 on women – on me
I suddenly find myself one example of the impact of Covid19 on women, who have fallen through many cracks. I’m still incredibly privileged, living in a safe environment and household, with economic security thanks to our household income and my own savings. Our health system still functions, and I can access services such as physical, mental and sexual health care when and if I need it.
And with more than 15 years of professional work experience, I know that my perspectives are not dire. Life and work will continue. Once lockdowns ease, and daycare and schools reopen, I’ll again get more help with childcare and household tasks (which can be physically draining with a household of six). I’ll find fulfilling tasks to do, where I feel am I contributing to improving someone else’s life beyond our household.
The status quo
Some fabulous academics and researchers, such as Clare Wenham at LSE, have focused on these gender dimensions of the pandemic. Clare recently in a talk rightly highlighted that Covid19 has no caused, but has further exposed and deepened, these deeply entrenched gender inequalities – in society, the workforce, and also in the household.
What many women are currently experiencing – what I am currently experiencing – is the sad status quo.
Self-reflection
My usual strategies to protect my status as a woman – also in a household – and to ensure equity and balance, don’t currently work. I’m stuck in a situation where there’s one full-time secure job and pay, and a near endless lot of childcare and household tasks to manage on the other hand.
I love every moment I have with my children, and I’m grateful that I can spend it with them without having to try to be on calls and work down stressful to-do-lists at the same time (or cover all of that during my sleep time once the kids are in bed). I’m grateful I don’t need to resort to 24/7 Netflix as childcare for the children (even though they’d be delighted, at least for a while!). I’m grateful I’m not burning my own candle at both ends, and my husband doesn’t have to either.
But I’m terrified of getting stuck much longer in this gender dynamic. Thrown back into the 1950s, 30 years before my birth, and into cultural norms I was never raised in (having been brought up in a very equitable Nordic family and culture). I’m terrified that after studying so hard, and working for so long, this is where I’ve landed and where I’ll stay.
I’ve over 15 years always said – and especially my family has agreed – that I am a better parent because I work. In a paid, valued job that is intellectually challenging, and that keeps me looking at the big picture (not some untidy corner of a children’s room). Ideally one that has an impact, and also a healthy work culture, and definitely one that is compatible with my role as a mother of four – and as a positive example for all of my children.
Perhaps this blog is a reminder for all of those women out there, who find that their values and ideals are slipping aways in practice. Where workforce participation and fair pay is a distant dream, and household equality has been thrown out into the trash. You’re one of many, of millions – and sadly billions. We’re in this together, you – and I – are not alone.
And perhaps this blog is a reminder to myself not to lose hope. Things will get better. Things are not awful. But things need to change. We as parents – and especially as women – deserve better.
If you have constructive suggestions or ideas – both personal or policy – to share how to do this, also in the short-term, please do share. A year into hard lockdowns, it’s needed.
“I actually recently heard about a Finnish boy who had asked his mother whether boys can become prime ministers as well. The shift is happening, and we have many excellent male and female role models as leaders.”
Maijastiina Rouhiainen-Neunhäuserer (PhD)
Tell us a bit about your background, and how you have engaged on leadership issues.
I am a Finnish communications professional and female leader, work as Strategic Communications Director for a global packaging company, and live with my family in Switzerland. Prior to working as a communications business partner to various functional leaders and company executives, I did research (PhD) on leadership communication, and consulted and coached leaders on various communication topics from thought leadership and change management to crisis communications.
We are living through challenging times with Covid-19. What are your insights on the role of leadership in such crisis periods?
Strong leadership in managing crises such as this unprecedented global pandemic is crucial. Those in charge – whether political, institutional, business or people leaders – are expected to help people navigate the unknown and uncertainty, acknowledge the risks related to it and give direction, as well as face fears and build confidence.
The role of communication in leadership is important, as leadership builds on human interaction. Never before have communications teams and leadership coaches been this busy and needed. We have coached leaders to listen, helped show that they care, and have translated constantly evolving scientific knowledge into understandable, clear information. We have also developed communication tactics and vehicles that enable interaction in our new situations (e.g. fully remote settings). And importantly, we have helped hold leaders accountable for ethical principles – to say and do the right things.
“The role of communication in leadership is important, as leadership builds on human interaction.”
We have also all gone through a crash course in epistemology and rhetoric: what is truth, belief and justification, and how do you make arguments? Eight months into the pandemic, the wider public expects political leaders to share as much information as early as possible, and justify their preferred approach to manage the crisis with data.
Are there any differences in how women lead in crises, including how they are chosen for or leave these roles during crisis times? Does the media also report on women differently?
Leadership, and in particular women leaders’ decisions and actions during the pandemic have been scrutinized by media. This is an important conversation, as it allows us to re-define leadership. The public conversation has mainly focused on how obvious the differences between female and male leadership styles have been during this crisis.
We have also seen stories about incredibly inspiring women leaders stepping up and demonstrating how efficient a female leadership style is in managing a crisis. For example, female-led countries such as Finland and Germany are said to have managed the first wave of the pandemic better. My own company’s crisis management team is led by a female executive, and I can only admire her caring and analytical, confident leadership style.
I would, however, not make a distinction between genders, as there are also men who have demonstrated excellent leadership during this crisis. Instead of making this a gender debate, I would put the relational aspect of leadership in the spotlight and focus on how the human side of leadership helps us manage the most serious business and political issues.
“Instead of making this a gender debate, I would focus on how the human side of leadership helps us manage the most serious business and political issues.”
Several women leaders have been reported to have mastered the Covid-19 response better because they are women. Is there truth to these arguments? Are women better leaders?
Instead of making gender comparisons, I think we should look at relational leadership attributes. Take the case of Jacinda Ardern, New Zealand’s Prime Minister, Angela Merkel, German Chancellor, and Sanna Marin, Finland’s Prime Minister. Their leadership styles differ from typical masculine leadership in three ways: their focus on care, their analytical approach and a focus on collaboration.
During the first weeks of the pandemic, research shows that people valued and sought determined and directive leadership. Many leaders responded to this by communicating in a resolute way despite many unknowns. But we then also saw some leaders showing both empathy and vulnerability in their public speeches. We learned that strength does not contradict emotions and care, but the solution is the balance between these two. As Jacinda Ardern put it in her appeal to New Zealanders: “Please be strong, be kind, and unite against Covid-19.”
“Please be strong, be kind, and unite against Covid-19.”
Jacinda Ardern, Prime Minister, New Zealand
What also fascinates me is the way these female leaders have expressed emotions while staying calm and taking an analytical approach to combat the pandemic. For example, Angela Merkel’s government sought guidance from multi-disciplinary expert group before communicating the nation’s lockdown exit strategy. This showed that leadership does not happen in a vacuum but in interaction with others, and that good leaders bring the best out of people by connecting them with each other.
Lastly, for a communications professional like me, it has been a pleasure to witness how these female leaders have demonstrated inclusiveness and collaboration. The leadership language has shifted from “I” to “us” – a very welcome change.
Leaders have shown empathy, listened, and taken into consideration people’s needs and concerns. For example, Finnish Prime Minister Sanna Marin hosted a press conference with kids to answer their very honest and direct questions in layman’s terms. She has also shown trust. Instead of sanctions, Finnish citizens were asked – for example in the Prime Minister’s tweets – to take responsibility and to follow the rules.
I think that during the times of uncertainty, these key leadership skills help leaders build trust, get people to accept the challenging situation, commit to a common goal, and build confidence in our ability to navigate this crisis.
I often wonder how much gender norms and traits mold women in their leadership positions, or whether leadership positions, the structures and cultures they are embedded in, end up molding women leaders more? For example, do women leaders have to behave in more masculine and aggressive ways to get to the top and succeed?
I’ll answer this with my researcher hat on, as the question relates to the theory of traits and competence. Many people believe that a natural communicator or leader is born, but research shows that they can also be made. Not everyone comes with the built-in ability to lead, but there are ways to teach leaders or yourself how to do that. The same applies to women leaders – not everything is determined by our genes, but we can learn and also adjust our leadership style to the situation.
The other important aspect is the concept of contextuality. All leadership (communication) is contextual: leaders work and communicate within a framework of cultural rules, values, beliefs, and in a specific time. There’s also a relationship between leaders and followers. This framework determines how appropriate, effective, and ethically correct leadership is perceived as.
Gender biases are also very real. Women leaders operate within a given context, and their way to lead and communicate depends both on cultural norms and organizational culture, values and practices. For example, the expectations I face as a female leader in rather patriarchal Switzerland are very different than in my home country Finland, where gender equality is normality.
Or in an organizational setting, the female leader might be the only woman in the room and needs to adjust her style to male colleagues, along the lines of: “to have a seat at the big boys’ table you need to wear big boys’ pants”.
We bring our leadership capabilities and preferences with us, and how we use these capabilities depends on the context.
You are a woman working in a leadership role and have children. Do you ever talk about leadership issues with your children, or have you thought about encouraging them to aspire to leadership roles later?
My children are growing up in an environment different from what I or my husband know from our childhood. For example, I grew up in a rather gender-neutral Finland, whereas my husband comes from a conservative catholic region. We acknowledge the expectations there are for girls in today’s Switzerland and how they differ from ours.
I find it important to talk about all of this with my daughters, as it is my wish that my daughters can grow up confident and know how to stand up for what is right. This means staying true to yourself whatever the environment might think or expect you to do.
I do not think that a leadership position is a necessity to achieve a meaningful career, have impact or make this world a better place. However, if my daughters ever wish to take a leader role in a group or an organisation, I would like them to feel confident in doing so, and know how to behave in a way that convinces other people to trust and follow them.
“If my daughters ever wish to take a leader role in a group or an organisation, I would like them to feel confident in doing so.”
Our role as parents is to try to change this world to the better so that our children can grow up in a world where leadership is not defined by gender. I actually recently heard about a Finnish boy who had asked his mother whether boys can become prime ministers as well. The shift is happening, and we have many excellent male and female role models as leaders that my daughters can identify with.
During the Covid-19 crisis, you have been advocating for more principled leadership communication. Can you give a few examples of what this means?
Absolutely. As I’ve said, the Covid-19 pandemic has been a brutal but also valuable real-time exercise, even a drill, for leadership and communication professionals to work together. It has unveiled many things about our beliefs, priorities and ways of leading.
It has also shown us that leaders have both the economic power to be heard and ethical responsibility to stand up for what is right, and we leadership communication professionals are key consulting partners to remind them about this responsibility. We also have the knowledge and skills to drive meaningful and impactful leadership communications.
I’d like to use this once-in-a-lifetime experience as an opportunity to learn and change leadership communication practices for the better.
You’ll find more reflections from Maijastiina on how to re-define leadership on LinkedIn.
A few years ago, I was having dinner during the UN General Assembly with an inspiring global health colleague who is not afraid to speak his mind, and has a lot of experience and great lessons to share. I was feeling quite constrained in my job intellectually, and realized I was craving for some new thinking and thought leadership in global health. I asked my colleague to share suggestions of who is thinking outside of the box in our sector, who is not afraid to speak out, and who is truly interested in moving the needle on impact.
I have been following the work of these people and many more since, and the freedom of thought, research, and discussion I saw has been one of my inspirations to start writing (and thinking) again. I started asking myself what I really think and know about the issues I am working on, what my principles are, and where I personally think I can add value on – and have the space and support to do so.
I have throughout my career focused on diversity and inclusion in global health. Most of my positions have aimed to include the voices of unheard but affected populations into the global health discussion: children, adolescents, women, stigmatized people, and people who are discriminated against or ignored because they lack the financial means, citizenship or job to have their voices heard.
But I have also felt uncomfortable at times in how organizations or organizers of events (willingly or subconsciously) select representatives from these populations, or in the worst case dictate what they should say or how they should behave. In practice, this means that many such representatives have not been able to speak on behalf of the group they are there to represent, and their participation has been more tokenistic than real.
I have also at times represented such populations. I have been invited to speak because I am a woman, a working mother, or when I worked in civil society. I was supposed to represent people who are discriminated against and left out. I have tried to do so, by using a platform to highlight their challenges and issues. But have I been the right representative to speak on their behalf – with all of my own privileges, such as education, citizenship, geographic location, financial means, and my race? Or have I just been the token woman, CSO representative, etc? I admit I have often felt uncomfortable because of these questions I have asked myself.
I have seen these same challenges in my work throughout the years, for example in how many organizations deal with CSOs. It’s tick-the-box tokenism, and in the worst case instrumentalization. Both sides (the organization and representatives) bear some responsibility on how these relationships are used and abused, and it’s important also to call out that many representatives of underrepresented groups (women, CSOs, etc) greatly benefit from the access, visibility and perks they are given through their representation. The relationship easily becomes unhealthily symbiotic.
Because of these discomforts, I together with Ngozi Erondu and Madhu Pai (two great thought leaders in global health who are unafraid to speak their minds also on difficult issues) co-wrote an article in Think Global Health, Silenced Voices in Global Health.
We pose questions and discuss issues such as: What does real diversity mean and look like, and what will it take to get to real inclusion in global health? How can transparency help? And why do we need more critical self-reflection?
I am aware this is a difficult discussion to have. Many people really are underrepresented and discriminated again, stigmatization and discrimination are very, very real – as we can see even more poignantly again these days thanks to Covid19, and what is happening in the United States.
But we also need to make sure we are truly supporting those people who are discriminated against, not just pushing ourselves into the limelight because we share some attribute with other people. And we need to be transparent about who we really are, and what we can – or cannot – represent.
As part of my transition period, I have been reading lots of books, journal articles, and talking to inspiring people. I have also been catching up on old TED talks. I’ll here mention two recent talks I watched, which made me wonder about what value middle managers play, and particularly what this means for women.
I have for quite a few years been wondering why we are expected to sit in an office (usually quite an ugly one) all day long. As a colleague whom I spoke to recently pointed out, we often have a long commute to the office, so that we can respond to emails all day long, and then commute back home. Alternatively, we commute to the office and get pulled into meeting mayhem, while desperately struggling to respond to those emails (during meetings, in between, or in our free morning or late evening hours). There’s very little real human interaction, and definitely very little space for creative engagement, strategic planning, and – as Jason Fried points out in this funny TED talk – actual work.
As a manager in roles where I have had more freedom, I have tried to encourage my staff to work where they feel they do this best. The same goes for meetings. It can be at home, in a park, at a coffee shop, in the library, in a train, while visiting parents – I don’t honestly care where. Human interaction is nice, and is important to build trust, but who on earth needs to do this nine hours each day, and for every single meeting? Quality, not quantity, counts. Except…
Except when you are a manager who has difficulties trusting your staff. Or have forgotten that digital means – or even the old-fashioned telephone – means you can reach people no matter where they are. Or if you constantly need your staff to help you with your thinking, and perhaps to do your job. Or you lose sight of deliverables (perhaps you haven’t tasked or agreed on any, because you are so obsessed with presence value being equal to work?), and have images of staff slacking off, having fun coffees, colluding against you, and abusing their freedoms.
I once had a fabulous boss who allowed staff to work fully flexibly, even though there was a physical office and enough space for everyone. I mentioned to her that I’ve rarely seen leadership who trusts their staff so much. She responded that 80% get their work done no matter what, 10% slightly abuse the situation (i.e. do not always deliver as much or on time), and 10% overcompensate because they are motivated and perhaps grateful – it adds up to the same, but in total everyone is more motivated and happier.
In many organizations, middle managers and leaders get promoted from the ranks. Very few have management experience, and management skills are rarely a criteria for getting the job. Rather, promotions are either based on time (who’s been around and is next in line), or successes in past work (very little of which includes management skills). To be frank, this has happened to be too: I have joined organizations in a specific function, and have then been promoted to lead teams. I have become that middle manager who needs to manage staff, and has been expected to organize meetings…
Although managing teams, and seeing staff grow and flourish, has been one of the most rewarding aspects of my work, I’ve also suffered from middle management meaninglessness. What is it that I actually do? What is my actual work? I’ve been lucky to work with some fabulous staff, and to have recruited several as well. They have quickly become great at what they do, and have had strong self-organization skills. I’ve helped them define their ambitions better, aim for growth, and shown where I think they need to improve if they want to succeed. I’ve taught them what I know about time management, prioritization, and planning. I’ve tried to make their case or showcase their work in the broader organization, and provided evaluations and references where helpful.
But ultimately, I’ve ended up explicitly stating that at some point, they are more than ready to fly without me. In some of the organizations where I have worked, they have, and I am incredibly proud to keep following what they are achieving. Honestly, they would have soared high without my engagement, although perhaps some benefited from my encouragement.
Middle managers often feel removed from the actual mission of an organization. Whereas leadership decides (or should decide) a strategic direction, and staff carry out the work to get there, middle managers – well – manage. Some of these positions are important when leadership doesn’t have capacity to connect with all staff to get timely feedback on what’s working and what not (are we actually getting to where we need to, or have we stalled or are going in a different direction in reality?). Or when staff needs a lot of handholding in their work. Where both internal communication and staff are strong, middle management may not be necessary, and they may actually be a hinderance. This seems to be the conclusion of the above TED talk.
Let’s for a moment assume you work in an organization where middle management makes sense and offers some value. You may have also found a good culture and balance between oversight and flexibility, based on trust. As a middle manager, you may even have time to do some work that inspires you, and connects you to what motivated you as staff (or motivates other staff), or supports leadership set a strategic course. Then what?
Another TED talk I watched by Susan Colantuono addresses the question why so few women make it to leadership positions. She points out that there are actually many women leaders – in middle management – very few make it to the top, though. In addition to factors such as norms or care-taking roles, which she does not address, she brings in an interesting variable: strategic or business acumen. Her theory is that whereas women are mentored to make the jump from staff to middle management (network, take on responsibilities for other staff, etc.), they are not mentored to make the next jump to leadership. They train in time, people and project management – functions that are really important for middle management – but are not encouraged to think about strategy, where the organization or business is positioned vis-a-vis the entire market, and what it needs not only to become good, but to succeed externally.
Many women middle managers who I have seen crave to go back to their staff functions (albeit not the power or pay), they miss the “real work” or meaning. I’ve often felt that pull myself. But I’ve also seen the need to think big picture, and work on a strategy how to get to an end goal. It definitely isn’t by organizing more meetings, and making sure staff is even more present and available!
As we in many countries are moving out of Covid19 shutdown, and many organizations are starting to consider how staff should return to offices, I’d encourage everyone to watch some of these (admittedly pre-Zoom) talks. What are we really trying to achieve? And do we really need so many meetings, and middle managers, to get this job done?
Over the past weeks, I have been caring for a constantly ill toddler, and am in the middle of a big move – and have every day been thankful that I am not doing this on top of a 12-14 hour shift at work.
Anyone who works full-time knows how errands and “life” get squeezed into quick lunch breaks, late evenings, Saturdays (or if in countries with 24/7 opening times, into the weekend). Some people invest a vacation or two into “getting stuff done”, instead of taking vacation. A lot happens online, through outsourcing and delivery, and you cut corners where you can. Your mind is rarely fully present, as work tasks and stress are very difficult to switch off (quickly).
As someone who is very dedicated to my work, I have missed out on a lot during the past years. Birthdays, vacations, recitals, drop-offs and pick-ups. I have not tried “to do it all” or “have it all” (a la Anne-Marie Slaughter), because this has often been logistically impossible (i.e. work conference clash with a birthday, obligatory team meeting clash with a school recital, cooking complex and delicious dinners), or I have simply not had the energy to jet around at the speed of lightning to make it everywhere on time.
I have rarely felt guilty, though, because someone who cares for the children and whom they care about, has been present – either their father, or grandparents / close friends. The kids have never complained, and some part of me that breathes gender equality also enjoys the thought that it’s not always mom who is present – but it can be dad too.
Over the past weeks, I have been enjoying doing things at a different pace again, and not outsourcing most aspects of “life”, in order to make life compatible with “work”. It is fulfilling to see little projects run from gestation to implementation, and to have control of nearly all aspects. But it is also exhausting.
On the one hand, I am able to decide what to do – and what not to. Including the when, how, and with whom. But with a household of six, my days are not just drinking coffees, reading books, taking strolls and catching up with interesting people. The list of errands is endless. Add in a six-person household move, and my shift is again 12 hours, very few breaks.
I have always said that, for me, working compared to care-taking is a piece of cake. Yes, the days are long, and there is a huge amount of (often unnecessary) stress involved. But there’s also (with good leadership) someone else who takes responsibility, takes on the trickiest tasks or advises on these, and makes the big decisions. With larger teams or organizations, there’s a division of labor that you could only dream about at home if you function on a normal salary (accountant, secretary, travel agent, cleaner, etc.). In most workplaces, no-one knocks on the door when you are in the bathroom to ask you where things are (or if you parent toddlers, joins you).
I keep saying (and writing) that I am very aware I live in a very privileged place and time. I can change roles, and dip in and out of more or less care-taking (children and household tasks). There are billions (not just millions, really billions!) of (mainly) women who can not make these decisions. They just do both the care-taking, and the work that feeds the household and puts a roof on their head, because they have to. They cannot afford to outsource, and they do not have much support from their (male) partners due to cultural norms or lack of rights.
For those women who have “outsourced it all”, this blog is a reminder how tough the tasks are that someone else is doing in support. Remember to be grateful. For men who keep shying away from care-taking tasks, this is a reminder of the burden women carry – often on top of work. And to myself, this is a reminder that “life” outside of work is not just a piece of cake. It comes with freedom, but it’s hard work too.
I have been blogging and sharing thoughts since 2011 on (trying to have) a career in development and simultaneously raising (initially three, now four) children. A more active blog that I stopped writing on this topic is still out there in cyberspace somewhere, as are pieces from a project that I ran for a year, targeted at young professionals in Germany (KarriereFamilie).
Thanks to a lot of support from family, friends, and a few mentors (as well as relatively easygoing and supportive kids, and the right financial means), I have muddled my way through the career world as a working mom for a number of years. I have had the luxury to a) know what I want to do, b) know what I am good at doing, and c) getting jobs where I can combine the two. At times, I have also experienced the luxury joker card of careers, which is d) to be able to work with people I love working with.
I have done my fair share of reflecting on how young women, and working moms in particular, can be better empowered and encouraged to crack some career ceilings. A lot has boiled down to “where there’s a will, there’s a way”, combined with having the financial means to be able to make things work (put simply, can one afford it?), and institutions that are supportive (daycare, tax systems, and crudely put, the right kind of boss).
Fifteen years into my career, feeling that I have cracked what I need to crack for my own path, and trying my best to pave the way for the next generation, I increasingly realize that I am thinking less about the mom angle of making things work, and more about what a career actually means. Perhaps this is the big job question, the “why?”
A career can be many things. It can be i) a job that provides increasing status, power, and financial means. It can be ii) a job where one manages increasing numbers of staff and budgets. It can be iii) a means to shape an organization (internally), or aspects of the world (externally). From the above, i) and ii) are for me, personally, not interesting on their own. They may be the standard definition of a career, but to me, it could involve any job. iii) starts getting interesting, because it triggers the question “what for?”. What I’d argue, and have tried to tell younger staff (and in particular women) over the past few years, is that things get really interesting when you start defining a career somewhat differently, as iv) a set of functions. This links what can be a job with increasing status and financial means, sometime also increasing staff numbers and budgets, with the points I listed previously under a) a job you want to do, and b) a job you know you are good at.
I would define a “function” as what you actually do at work. This can include things such as building networks, developing a strategy and tactics and a workplan to achieve this, seeing connections in various teams and building common areas work. It can include providing in-depth content expertise to inform strategic decisions, or creating a process toolkit to optimize how a team works. In short, the sky is the limit to functions.
Many – too many – people in the workforce are fixated on a traditional career ladder. In particular in the phase I am in, the air is very thin and competition fierce for the next career step on this traditional ladder. And it never ends, because even when you reach the top, another employer has a higher step. Not everyone can make it to the top, because the pyramid gets narrower. There are a lot of frustrated employees, who cannot answer the question “why?” – why do I go to the office day-in, day-out, provide effort and get stressed, spend time away from my children? Because it pays the bills? Because it could be worse elsewhere?
My view is that most of us are defining “careers” in the wrong way. We’re setting ourselves up to be frustrated and (most of us) to fail. If we would spend less time thinking about i) (status, income), ii) (staff numbers, budget), and more time on iii) (shaping an organization or external environment), and iv) (functions), and basing iv) (functions) on trying to maximize a, b, c, and d (what you want to do, what you are good at doing, combining the two in a job, and ideally spending your days, months, and years doing this with people you like), we’d all make our work more meaningful, and probably be happier in the process.
This involves a bit more complexity with all the “i, ii, iii, a, b, c, d”, but especially for those young women who are thinking about having a child (or another one) and whether it’s worth trying to climb the career ladder at the same time, I think this is the only way forward. Why spend time trying to crack a ceiling you actually don’t need to or want to crack?
Katri Bertram 