by Jennifer Gilhool - Gender Economics Lab —
No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the feeling that washed over me when I heard those words “not sufficiently charming.” While I am not entirely sure how, I did manage to contain the flood of emotions that surged through me as I tried – unsuccessfully – to process the meaning of those three words. There was no yelling, no pounding of the desk or throwing of the computer, phone, or any other object sitting on my desk. Not a single tear was shed. At least, not at that exact moment.
There would be much yelling, throwing, and crying in the hours, days, weeks and months to follow. Instinctively, I knew all of “that” had to wait. It has been over three years since I first heard those words come over the speakerphone from somewhere in the United States to me in China. But, the feelings and the insecurity borne from those words are as fresh and new as the air I breathe each day.
Why?
Because the criticism was personal. Because the criticism attacked my competency as a woman and not as a professional. Because the criticism was designed to hurt me rather than build my performance capability. It wasn’t business; it was personal. Very personal.
This is what “Lean In” and all of the other career advice books for women don’t tell you. Business is personal for women. Not because women take business personally but because women must navigate a business world that is steeped in a culture that is male, specifically white male. This isn’t a criticism or an indictment of men either. It is quite simply a fact of business.
The dominant group determines culture. The dominant group in business for centuries has been white and male, at least in North America and Europe. Consequently, the standards of performance, the rituals of communication and bonding, the organizational structure and the manner of feedback are all steeped in the culture of men. For men, business is just business. This is not true for women.
Business is personal for women because women must not only prove themselves as competent professionals but also as competent women and the standards for each are almost diametrically opposed. Just before I was told that I was not sufficiently charming, I was also told that I had exceeded each of the business goals set for the organization that I led. As a professional, I was not simply competent but exceptional. As a woman, however, I was distinctly incompetent.
In fairness, someone suggested that I “turn on the charm” a year earlier. This person was my then boss, a 40-year veteran of the industry and a woman. Indeed, just one of two female corporate officers at my Fortune 50 company. I considered the advice and dismissed it. I wasn’t going to “turn on the charm” to make some man feel more comfortable or to advance my own standing. No one was asking the CFO to be more charming. No one was even asking him to be more humane.
My charm quotient ultimately determined the fate of my career with this company. After I left, I noticed the stories of other women whose charm quotient factored heavily in their own career fates. Women like Jill Abramson, WHO ELSE? I decided that I was in very good company. And, yet, I could not shake the insecurity and shadow of failure.
Why?
It was unfair but that wasn’t the reason these feelings were clinging to me. It was that the comment was wholly unnecessary. It was intentional. It was delivered and intended as a personal attack. There was no discussion about autocratic style or a concern over team building capability. Indeed, no such conversation could take place because I was the only leader in the entire Asia Pacific & Africa region who built a team from scratch using local-national talent rather than expat talent. The only way to attack my leadership style was, in fact, to attack my womanhood.
Men just don’t face this conundrum: to soften their hard edges by seducing their subordinates, colleagues, and managers. Men may choose to “turn on the charm” but charm isn’t a job requirement. There is no charm standard against which a man is measured, evaluated and expected to perform. Charm is a standard that exists for women – it is on the other side of the tightrope that women must walk while trying to be both a leader and a woman.
Being un-charming is not something that would ordinarily bother me. But, identity is contextual. In the context of my performance review, I was keenly aware of my gender. I was the only woman on the leadership team for my global function. I was the only woman with revenue-generating responsibility in Asia Pacific & Africa. I was isolated by my gender. I was keenly aware of my gender and that my performance would reflect not only on me but also on all of the women within my function striving to rise to my level. I knew that if I was judged to be less competent than my male peers, my failure could and likely would forestall the advancement of women in this company.
I wasn’t wrong. A man replaced me in China. A man who delayed his move to China until his children completed the school year. I, however, was forced to leave my children and husband behind in China while I returned to the States to a position that didn’t really exist and was designed to force me out. And, this was a negotiated gift. A gift that likely would not have been received if it weren’t for a man who happened to be CEO of the region with two daughters in college. Identity is contextual. He saw what was happening and feared for his own daughters.
Fortunately, I knew that I was leaving this company when I took the assignment in China and that decision was reinforced the minute I heard those three words: not sufficiently charming. After China, there was nowhere for me to go – no new challenge to conquer. I was already bored and boredom is a dangerous thing for a person like me. While I don’t regret my decisions, I remain haunted by the feelings associated with that moment in my career. It drives me. It drives me to change the culture so that my own daughters’ accomplishments are never rendered insignificant because someone judged them to be “not sufficiently charming.”
Jennifer Gilhool is the founder of Gender Economics Lab, a professional, focused thought leading coaching and consulting practice that cuts through popular myths about gender in the workplace. GEL distinguishes its solutions by assuring both male and female workers that smart gender literacy rewards participants with career growth and rewards companies with higher margins. GEL goes far beyond compliance issues to deliver business value for all stakeholders. Learn more at www.gendereconomicslab.com
There is a difference between charm and charisma. Charisma is a form of charm that inspires devotion in others. We often talks about charismatic leaders and often we confuse charisma with leadership. When men lack leadership skills we don’t say that they lack charm. We say they don’t inspire others or they lack vision Donald Trump is very charismatic but the conversation about him centers around his foreign policy experience and his rhetoric but not about his ability to inspire people. Indeed, there are concerns about his ability to inspire violence but no one suggests that he isn’t charismatic or charming. I would suggest that many women do not find him charming, however. Charm, however, is the power or quality of giving delight or arousing admiration. The definition itself is sexual in nature. The definition of charisma stops short of sexual innuendo.
Being told that I was not sufficiently charming arose from an event that occurred 2 years earlier. A fellow director, a man, made plans to go to dinner with a VP of our company while we were both at meetings wit him in Germany. I traveled from Shanghai and he from the States. I was not invited to the dinner. When the VP discovered that I was not invited, he canceled the dinner with the male director at the last minute. I left the building as planned and had dinner with friends in Cologne. By the time I heard the story months later, I had left the male director standing in the rain without an umbrella, no transportation to his hotel (which was not my hotel), and no dinner plans.
When this story first reached me — in a performance review — I scoffed. I was not his assistant, his wife, his mother or even his employee. I took care of my logistical needs. Surely, he was capable of doing the same. This incident came up in virtually every conversation I had with my boss in the States thereafter. It was suggested that I “turn on the charm” to win him over. This was very personal and very demeaning.
Men often suggest to women that they not take things so personally. What men fail to recognize is that navigating the dominant male culture of work is not the same for members of the non-dominant culture. It is very personal because we have to subjugate our personalities to fit into the culture. Further, women and minorities are forced to choose between being true to themselves and acting in a manner acceptable to the dominant culture.
When I was told that I was not sufficiently charming, I was not told that I was not a competent woman. I was told at the very same time that I exceeded by business objectives. I was a competent leader but not a competent woman. This is classic tightrope bias. It is no different that telling Hillary Clinton to smile more and never asking Donald Trump to smile.
Is there a material difference between being “charming” and being “charismatic?”
“Lacking charisma” is a two-word critique I have often heard in regard to men aspiring to a higher post and were not going to make it. Most often it is an excuse obscuring (collectively) a less objective antipathy that can’t be reasonably argued.
NEVER take it personally … even when it’s intended that way. If you do, you are highly susceptible to being manipulated; and no one wants a leader who can be so obviously manipulated. Sometimes statements like these are just interjected as a test – a test of interior fortitude and situational responsiveness.
It is so prevalent that it should be anticipated – and so forewarned you should be armed with a gracious and cutting response that eliminates its repetition.
This type of bs is actually gender neutral. Don’t take it personally.