In September 2011, badly
needing redirection, the iconic Hewlett-Packard —
famously founded in a Palo Alto garage — reached out to Meg Whitman. The new CEO had recently lost a bid to become
California's governor, but had a strong track record. In over ten years at its helm, she had helped
transform EBay from fledgling enterprise into an Internet powerhouse. Meg Whitman belongs to a still very small and
select class: the woman chief executive.
Last summer Yahoo, yet another Silicon
Valley trailblazer founded by Stanford trained engineers, was seeking a way to get
back on track after years of setbacks and management turmoil. It turned to Melissa Mayer who rose from
employee number 20 to senior executive at Google. Meyer arrived in Sunnyvale in her final weeks
of pregnancy, something that probably made as much news as her becoming the youngest CEO of a Fortune
500 Company. After a little more than
six months on the job, Mayer took a drastic step for a free wheeling company
many of whose employees worked from at home, in some cases all of the
time. She essentially called everyone
back to the office, a move aimed at reconnecting and thus energizing the work
force to be more mutually creative. It
caused a firestorm both within the company and perhaps more so in the media. How could SHE? Among the many criticisms aimed at Ms. Mayer
were ones that related as much to who she was as what and why she was
doing. How could a woman, of all people,
essentially end flextime?
The special treatment
given to Mellissa Mayer is not new to the select number of women who have
reached the higher echelons of their chosen profession or workplace. No doubt Meg Whitman experienced much the
same over the years. Women, for example,
are routinely described as "bossy" when doing the same leadership thing that would be, and is, admired in a male counterpart. Sadly, few women climbing the
career ladder are willing to publically or even privately confront this or
other forms of ongoing gender discrimination.
Instead they play along in the hope of continuing their advancement and
in constant fear of hitting the proverbial glass ceiling, or worse losing their
jobs. Rather than challenge, many speak only
about how much progress has been made
since the advent of the Women's Movement, a subject or rather a myth that I
have discussed in previous posts and in my book. Now Mayer’s former Google colleague, and presently
Facebook COO, Sheryl Sandberg has broken that acquiescence, that silence.
In some ways Lean
In is a highly personal book, one that reflects Sandberg's own journey
from a happy Miami childhood through entry level and then senior positions in the
public sector and ultimately in business.
Unlike Melissa Mayer who, as a Stanford trained engineer, took the expected Silicon
Valley path, Harvard economics major and then MBA Sandberg came to the tech world from
the Treasury Department. Despite
reaching her goal through smarts (top honors in school), hard work and merit,
hers is hardly a Horatio Alger story. She
came from a nurturing affluent home with a well-educated mother and ophthalmologist
father and with siblings, one a surgeon and the other a pediatrician, who also went on
the bright careers. Along the way, she
had great mentors, not the least her thesis adviser at
Harvard, Larry Summers, for whom she later worked both at the World Bank and at Treasury. It's not a starting from scratch story. Rather, and more importantly, it's the kind of career that mirrors the one of many in
senior positions, public and private. So
you might say, Sheryl Sandberg came up in the usual American way.
Usual that is for a man. Her life and the challenges presented at
every stage didn't so much mirror that of male colleagues but of women in this
country. And that isn't only women in
the workforce, but all women: how they are judged, what opportunities they
encounter and what outcomes they have in life.
As Sandberg points out time and again, women are seen differently, paid
less (than men doing the same job and underpaid in the absolute), passed over
more, and must function with an often unspoken but always present
handicap. Even fifty years after the
modern Women's Movement made such a splash, women hold few top jobs (or even an
equal number of jobs) in business, government or institutions. That means fewer CEOs, Senators and Members
of Congress, college presidents, clergy etc. than their male counterparts. Fifty percent of the population doesn't
translate into 50/50 in the workforce.
And that workforce includes at home where few women enjoy truly 50/50
partnership with their spouses, something Sandberg considers an unmet essential. In a revealing anecdote, she reports of a man
telling a colleague that he has to go home to "babysit". Imagine a
woman characterizing being with her children as "baby sitting". In both cases, is that something called parenting?
Sandberg's book is receiving
a lot of attention and a substantial amount of flack, some of it from women
reviewers. She has been accused of
speaking from a privileged place — extreme wealth and power, hardly the average
woman — and for name-dropping — admittedly her acknowledgment pages especially are a
little over the top. But from beginning
to end, I found an author well aware of who and what she is and certainly of
her unique position. In fact, it is
because she has done so well (and clearly because she didn't have to) that she
felt compelled to address gender issues head on. Perhaps this book was written to inspire
other women, but also to express honestly what they face and what they likely think but fear to communicate.
It is a compelling fact filled book that, while certainly not
faultless, should be read by both women and men. It's pages turn quickly but its message can't
be taken in, hit and run. It requires
deliberate and lengthy consideration.
We most certainly can
thank men for the still held back role of women in our society. Our prejudices (or more accurately pre-conceived
notions) and in recent times our fear of competition have been, and continue to
be, at play. The fabled Horatio Alger's in
the American story may have come from humble beginnings, but they shared the distinct
and common advantage of maleness. They started with a leg up. No one suggested that they didn't have the
physical strength or temperament to do their job; no one assumed in advance
that they would be moody or
considered them bossy when they
led. Sandberg cites research showing
that male leaders are both respected and liked while women doing exactly the
same job, performing in the same way, may be also respected but are most often are considered
"unlikable". Some people think
it a complement to say how well a woman is doing in a "man's job". Yes, a man's job, not simply a job to be
done.
But Sandberg doesn't
place the entire burden and blame on men.
She knows that women can be their own worst enemies, both in not
reaching as high as they should — limiting (sometimes purposefully) what
opportunities they seek — and in often not standing up sufficiently for their
female peers. Lean In has been criticized for urging women to reach high, for
perhaps putting too great a premium on both work away from home and
on success. It's a bad wrap, because Sandberg
continually emphasises that we all face a range of choices and that no one
should put a valued judgment on the path we chose to follow. That said, this book's ultimate message to
women is certainly that they should cast aside the mental and other barriers that might be in
their way. Women should lean in — be all
in — to what they're dong, something that men have done, as if by second
nature.
It isn't all men's fault
and it isn't all women's fault. I can't
speak for women, but can for men who Sandberg urges to be, to become, true
50/50 partners including (and most especially) at home. It isn't enough for women to be committed
feminists. Men must join them in what
remains an uphill fight and unfinished business. I'm so glad Sandberg points out that, despite
her own success and the road already traveled thanks to Gloria Steinem and
others like her, progress has remains quite limited. I could not agree more. I've always considered myself a feminist,
still do. So I invite you — especially
men — to either join me in that for the first time or to reenlist.
Say what you will about
Sandberg's book, about her rarified perch, her dropping names, her first person
account or any other criticism. But this
is ultimately a provocative work, a conversation starter. And it is a conversation, an honest
conversation about gender, in which we need urgently to engage. Our future depends on all of us — men and
women — leaning in. If we are lagging
behind these days, count our keeping women in their "place" as one of
the reasons. Blame it also in us men not
being in there 50/50. We may not have
the power to do everything, but we do have the power to change that.
Note:
Not surprisingly for a FaceBook executive, Cheryl Sandberg has started a
community Lean In dedicated to this subject, a
way to learn or get involved. Check it
out.