Abstract
Drawing on the Letter to the Male “Good Apples” recently appeared in this section, my letter has a twofold aim: to provoke all the Male “Good Apples” in academia and to offer them an olive branch. As I provide them with a few practical suggestions, I hope to illuminate their way forward to truly “getting it”. It’s time to stop talking a good game and to start playing a better game.
Keywords
“Oh my! I wish I had written that piece!!”
That is what I thought right after reading the Letter to the Male “Good Apples,” which appeared in Journal of Management Inquiry recently. Although I am not a woman of color, this unapologetic portrayal of how women view White male academics deeply resonated with me. Probably like other women who have read the piece, I remember being hit by a wave of anger as I recalled all the supposed “good apples” I have encountered in my career so far. My anger was soon replaced by a feeling of hopelessness that, despite Anonymous’ best intentions, her letter would likely be viewed, labelled, and then dismissed by male academics as an angry “throat-clearing” exercise by an emotionally charged woman.
I think that letter was aimed at tearing away the veil and exposing the ugly truth of how we, as women, see the sheer obliviousness of many (dare I say most) White men in academia—obliviousness about how they themselves are perceived by their female counterparts. And it worked amazingly well in that sense, because so many women academics affirmed their own “MeToo!” experience (see Charlene Zietsma’s accompanying essay). But then I stopped and thought “What now? How do we keep the conversation going with a powerful, dominant group of White men who might have no reason to care how they are perceived?”
So, I started thinking of a few male colleagues whom I consider “enlightened” or, to use the editor’s words, “woke enough to get it.” These are men who score high on emotional intelligence, have professionally accomplished and successful wives and daughters, are well aware of the insidious gender-bias that pervades academia, and even are troubled by racial and gender discrimination. “What about them? Are they just good apples who are too afraid to speak up now, despite their good intentions, because they fear inadvertently screwing up by making an unwitting misstep? When I contacted some of them to gauge their reactions, this is what they said to me: “Wow, I had no idea. I’m sorry. Now what do I do?” “Is there anything I can say that won’t be taken as patronizing? Anything I can do that won’t be seen as false empathy or guilt-ridden charity?” They were at a loss!
In one sense, my response was, “Good! I’m glad you feel lost! Now you know how it feels!” But, maybe, just maybe, I was struck by a bout of empathy (how very female of me). In particular, men seemed to struggle with the last line of the essay “If you feel uncomfortable about being called out for racism or sexism, it is not my job to make you feel better or to provide you with strategies to be better apples. It is yours. Go figure it out. . ..” That ending, they said, left no path forward, because no matter how good an apple they might be, they will never truly “get it.” Although I agree with Anonymous that it is not really up to female colleagues to help their male counterparts figure it out, perhaps a few suggestions might just help men become better men. If we leave it only to men, even if they are a bunch of well-meaning “good apples,” to figure it out on their own, it is a shot-in-the-dark to assume that they will find strategies and solutions worthy of the kind of inclusivity we female academics seek. Worst case scenario: we will end up with some male version of female wishes.
Why? Because men will keep looking at us with their “White-male-privilege” tinted glasses and will perpetuate the same behaviors over again. Even if the enlightened men are pretty much—how shall I say—clueless right now (ouch!), for the sake of academia’s future, I think we should not leave things at an impasse. Although Anonymous’ essay beautifully accomplished the purpose of pulling back the veil, causing a necessary stir and ruffling some smoothed-over feathers, I might prefer to offer an olive branch and try to be a bit constructive. So, here’s a little test for all White men in academia: What if you were to walk a mile in a woman’s shoes? What if you did not have your White male privilege? What if the tables were turned? What do you think you would experience?
Here’s what: You would work as much or more than your female colleagues and be appreciated and paid considerably less. You would be targeted by a series of subtle, yet cruel microaggressions. You would be the only White man on various committees where women make all the important decisions—and the only reason you would be there is because “we need a White man.” You would be asked to do more teaching, “because you’re so good at it” and “because you are a ‘good sport.’” You would receive lower teaching scores because of your gender. You would be encouraged to do many nonpromotable tasks (often branded as “a great opportunity”). And you would be so exhausted that your research productivity would be affected, so your promotion would be delayed or denied (and promotion delayed is often promotion denied, to paraphrase Martin Luther King). God forbid that you should have the unforgiveable misfortune to become pregnant. Starting to get the picture now? If you could put on this mantle for just the time it took to read this passage, how did it make you feel? Good? I doubt it.
Well, the truth is that we women see you men as talking a good game, but not playing a good game. So, what suggestion might we have to help you play a better game? Here are just a few.
Stop “Mentoring;” Start Championing
Mentoring is a proven personal and career-development enhancer. Properly done, a male mentor of a female mentee can be a mutually beneficial and meaningful relationship, helping both individuals in important ways. But, this form of mentoring maintains the power differences between the male mentor and the female mentee. Moreover, often the male mentor offers advice based on his (male) experiences that have little in common with the (female) mentee’s experiences. Worse, following male mentoring rules teaches women to be more like men. That is not what we want or need. What we really need is an appreciation for feminine approaches to leadership. And where are such approaches going to come from if all we have is a perpetuation of the male model of leadership? Yep, that is right. . ..
So, you should ditch the classic notion of mentoring and substitute the idea of championing women. How? Make sure women get the credit they deserve—women get less credit than men for the same level of accomplishment (McClean et al., 2018)—look for opportunities to acknowledge and celebrate women’s talents. When you introduce female coworkers, focus on emphasizing their accomplishments to help counteract preconceived notions about competence (women are perceived to be less competent than men, despite parallel qualifications (Valian, 1998). When women say that they are “not ready” or “not qualified” for an opportunity or for a promotion (or worse when men say that about women), promote them anyway. Encourage women; advocate for women. One of the biggest things holding women back is that there are not enough women models to emulate, so promote them into positions other women want to emulate.
Stop Interrupting; Start Listening
Compared to women, men tend to talk more and make more suggestions in meetings, whereas women are interrupted more, are given less credit for their ideas, and have less overall influence (McClean et al., 2018)—a situation exacerbated by the transition to Zoom.
So, stop interrupting your female colleagues. Just stop. Listen to women; their ideas are just as good as yours. And if you see a female colleague being interrupted, interject yourself; say you would like to hear her finish. Openly ask women to contribute to the conversation. Beware of “stolen ideas”—aka “hepeating”; look for opportunities to acknowledge the women who first proposed the ideas. Do not just be a bystander when women are interrupted. Interrupt the interrupter.
Stop Mansplaining
Most of the time, there is nothing wrong with men explaining things. Men can explain things to women. And women can explain things to men. It works both ways . . . until it does not. “Mansplaining” in its worst form happens when men speak over a woman to explain something she already knows—indeed, something in which she may already be an expert—on the implicit assumption that men know more than women (Oh, yes, it happens. More often than you think. You should experience it from our perspective). When you interrupt or presume to correct a woman who is speaking of her own experience or on the basis of her expertise, you are implying that she is ignorant. Imagine how you would feel if that happened to you even once. Now, imagine how you would feel when it happens to you repeatedly. It is not just rude, it is demeaning.
Likewise, avoid giving unsolicited, condescending advice. Make sure your female coworkers want advice and are actually looking for help. Make sure you know what you are talking about. If you do not have experience but you do feel like you have an important or useful observation to make, then you should always qualify it by saying: “I’ve never had this problem before, but it seems to me. . ..” Listen to what their problems and experiences are and meet them where they are, not where you are. Giving advice based on your privileged situation and not theirs is ineffective, and frankly quite offensive.
Stop the Microaggressions in Disguise
“Try to smile more when you teach because I think your students are scared of you,” “You look too young to be an Associate Professor,” “You are too sensitive,” “We need a woman on the hiring committee.” These are just a few examples of the microaggressions female academics receive. You do not know what a “microaggression” is? We do; we learned about it first hand. Microaggressions at work are everyday verbal and nonverbal slights or snubs that communicate negative or hostile messages. They can come in the shape of little assaults like telling a sexist joke and insisting that, “It was just a joke! Lighten up”; little insults, like speaking over someone during meetings, and little invalidations, like “We treat everyone in this organization equally.” Do not be fooled by the label “micro”—although they are small and apparently innocuous, the targets of microaggressions (women) notice. So, next time, be mindful when you make comments to or about your female colleagues. Saying something was only a joke comes across as making light of the harm you caused. When you say you did not mean it, it comes across as trying to invalidate women’s experience. If you commit either of these sins, apologizing is a decent gesture that at least can be a start to a necessary conversation.
Stop Being a Bystander; Get in the Game!
To those of you who are White male academics in positions of formal power: the deans, associate deans, department chairs, here are some things you might consider: Unconscious bias training is a good start, but it will not solve the problem by itself. You are visible examples, so . . . lead by example!—be a public champion of gender equality, work to close the gender-pay gap, hire and promote more women, enforce a zero-tolerance policy for discrimination, bullying, harassment, and microaggression. Learn how women think differently than you do. Lord knows, we women have had to learn how men think, because we have been living in a male-dominated industry. When you advocate for women, they benefit and you benefit. Best of all, you will be seen as a leader. It is a win-win for everyone.
Perhaps you will see this commentary as coming from a place of anger, and maybe it does. Yet, anger is not the central theme here; the main takeaway should instead be an orientation toward helpfulness. Anonymous might be right in saying you men need to figure it out, but all of us can use a little help along the way.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
