Abstract
This essay draws on ethnographic work with minority leaders to problematize the reification of how people with privilege experience authenticity on the one hand, and the romanticization of authentic leadership on the other. Whilst the literature on authentic leadership critically engages the concept of authenticity itself, research on lesbian, gay, bisexual and queer (LGBQ) leadership offers empirical insights from the lived experiences of minority leaders. Drawing on both literatures, this essay addresses the challenge of critically engaging minority individuals’ accounts of their lived experiences relating to authentic leadership. The diverse LGBQ people in leadership roles in this UK study articulated struggles around being their “true selves” in leadership roles, as both bodies of literature suggest. Their accounts also raise concerns about how others romanticized LGBQ authenticity, creating expectations about how these minority individuals would perform authenticity for the sake of diversity, inclusion, and transformation. LGBQ leaders seem to develop a pragmatic sense about how and when they do or do not bring their sexualities into their leadership roles. In conclusion, this essay argues for an acknowledgment of how sexuality impacts the conditions for enacting authentic leadership whilst resisting the romanticism of authenticity for the sake of organization goals.
Introduction to the essay
This special issue concerns the need to develop models of leadership more responsive to human needs such as dignity and equality. The notion of authenticity in leadership is central to this concern, as it addresses the potential value of bringing the personal self into leadership to create transformation. Two separate bodies of literature explore the value and challenges of authenticity in leadership in distinct manners. In the authentic leadership literature, the merit of authentic leadership has been a contentious topic leading to significant debate amongst leadership scholars (see Alvesson and Einola, 2022; Einola and Alvesson, 2021; Gardner and McCauley, 2022a, 2022b). In the literature on lesbian, gay, bisexual and queer (LGBQ) workplace and leadership experiences, being authentic is consistently framed as a positive act and a goal that LGBQ leaders should aspire towards (see Lindsey et al., 2019; Mohr et al., 2019; Sawyer et al., 2017). Whilst the leadership literature critically engages with the meaning of authenticity in a provocative way, this critical engagement is largely lacking in the literature on LGBQ leadership experiences. However, discussions of authenticity in the LGBQ workplace/leadership literature are often more grounded in the lived experiences of atypical leaders than is the leadership literature itself. Indeed, Ladkin (2021, p. 396) argues that a key issue with current theories of authentic leadership is that they are largely articulated from the perspectives of straight, white men, and rarely keep the experiences of minoritized people in mind. Addressing both literatures, I draw upon findings from my own qualitative research study with 30 LBGQ people with leadership experience in the UK here. My aim is to draw on the experiences of minority leaders to problematize the notion of authenticity in leadership whilst avoiding reifying the experience of people with privilege or romanticizing the concept of authenticity.
Research methods and study population
To explore what it is like to be LGBQ and a leader, I conducted semi-structured interviews (60-120 min) with 30 people who identify as LGBQ and have leadership experience in the UK (including trans and non-binary folks who identify as LGBQ). I recruited participants through connections with LGBT organizations, workplace networks, and referrals from other participants. I took a phenomenological approach to this research, meaning that I explored both the commonality with respect to the phenomenon (being LGBQ and a leader), as well as how the phenomenon is experienced by each individual. In participant interviews, we discussed how participants came into leadership roles and their lived experiences as leaders who identify as LGBQ. Interviews were not limited to discussions of sexuality and leadership; many participants spoke in depth about how gender, age, ethnicity, class background, as well as contextual factors, all played into their leadership experiences.
Numerous studies of LGBQ leaders claimed that having a predominantly white, middle/upper class, highly educated study population was a limitation of their research (Croteau et al., 2008, Tatum et al., 2018; Reddy-Best 2018, Dewaele et al., 2019, Speice 2020, Lent et al., 2021). Previous LGBQ researchers have highlighted the need for further research on the experiences of LGBQ leaders who are not white (Heintz 2012; Pastrana 2010), who are women (Baker and Lucas 2017; Dozier 2017; Sedlovskaya et al., 2013), and who are bisexual (Arena and Jones 2017; Rummell and Tokar 2016; Sawyer et al., 2017). My sample included 12 people identified as women (including one trans woman), 16 identified as men (including one trans man), and two identified as non-binary. Twenty-two people identified as gay or lesbian, six people as bisexual, and two identified as queer. Eight people identified as ethnic minorities in the UK and 22 as White English/Scottish/Northern Irish. The youngest participant was 32 years old at the time of the interview and the oldest was 62. Participants held leadership roles in a wide range of sectors (public and private), such as government, higher education, finance, medicine, communications, tech, and the prison services. Participants articulated the tensions and complications around being their authentic selves in leadership, grounding my initial analysis of the tensions surrounding the meaning of authenticity for LGBQ leaders below.
Introduction: Authenticity and Atypical leaders
While the meaning of authenticity is ambiguous, Ayaz et al. (2023) describe it as the congruence between an individual’s internal sense of self and their outwardly displayed behaviours; it’s about being true to yourself and intrinsic values. As the notion of authentic leadership first emerged in the 1990s, it is a relatively new concept and there is no unified, agreed definition of authentic leadership (Ladkin and Taylor 2010: 65). However, there are a few themes that are recurrent in discussions of authentic leadership: the centrality of the “true self”, the idea that self-awareness is a key component of authentic leadership, and the connection between authentic leadership and moral leadership (Ladkin and Taylor 2010: 65).
Ayaz et al. (2023) assert that the current leadership literature glorifies the authentic leader, creating a need to question the different meanings of “authenticity” for typical and atypical leaders. In the Western context, typical leaders are often white, male, upper-middle-class, able-bodied, and have elite education credentials (Ayaz et al., 2023: 3). An atypical leader is someone who identifies with one or more socio-demographic groups that has historically faced disadvantage and is often underrepresented in leadership roles (such as women, ethnic minorities, LGBT + people) (Ayaz et al., 2023: 3). For typical leaders, authenticity can be an instrument of control that maintains norms and the status quo (Ayaz et al., 2023: 30). For atypical leaders, authenticity can be a mechanism for resistance and change, which may not be well received by those who seek to preserve the status quo (Ayaz et al., 2023: 30). Typical leaders are more likely to be able to express themselves authentically at work and be rewarded, whereas the authenticity of atypical leaders may be risky and emotionally challenging (Ayaz et al., 2023: 4).
The literature on LGBQ workplace and leadership further explores authenticity amongst one such group of “atypical leaders”. Authenticity is consistently framed as a goal for LGBQ people and there is a great deal of discussion around the value of authenticity in the workplace and leadership (see Bell et al., 2011; Fletcher and Everly 2021; Heintz 2012; Lee, 2020). Numerous studies emphasize the importance of identity integration for wellbeing (Lindsey et al., 2019; Mohr et al., 2019; Sawyer et al., 2017); identity integration is defined as the ability to be open about identity in work and non-work situations (Lindsey et al., 2019). Linking authenticity with visibility creates the notion that, ideally, an LGBQ person will be very open about their sexuality, and that this may make them a better leader. In their qualitative study on the experiences of lesbian leaders, Bringaze and White (2001) state, “in this study, leaders and role models in the lesbian community were targeted because it is assumed that they have successfully moved through the coming-out process and are therefore well-adjusted” (164). LGBQ leaders are framed as exemplary individuals and this notion of success is dependent on coming out, being visible and “well-adjusted”. This idea that successfully moving through the coming out process is a prerequisite for being an LGBQ leader doesn’t acknowledge how being authentic is an ongoing process that, as Ayaz et al. (2023) point out, is full of risks and challenges.
Given the long history of exclusion of LGBQ people from the workplace altogether, it is understandable that this literature valorises those who come out at work, and particularly those who do so and achieve leadership positions. Nevertheless, the LGBQ literature would benefit from Ayaz et al.’s (2023) critical engagement with the meaning of authenticity. LGBQ leadership researchers frame being open about one’s sexuality as essential to authenticity. In so doing, LGBQ researchers can fail to acknowledge both the ongoing challenges of being open and visible as LGBQ, and diversity among LGBQ leaders’ desires to be authentic. To be clear, several LGBQ leadership researchers do engage with how people manage their identities. Researchers have developed terms that emphasize the labour involved in being out in the workplace: public-private schematization (Sedlovskaya, 2013), how sexual identities should be “worn and performed” (Einarsdottir et al., 2015), how people become sexually intelligible (Van Laer 2018), negotiations of revealing or concealing (Reddy-Best 2018), and visibility management (Dewaele et al., 2019). However, the business-like language researchers have used to describe LGBQ people’s experiences of coming and being out (management, negotiation, schematization, employing strategies) suggests how coming out is not only personal but also a corporate activity, as it requires “management” and “negotiation” within the work environment. It highlights how being authentic is work.
The idea that the authenticity of atypical leaders can be transformative is present in both the leadership literature and the literature on LGBQ leadership. Being open about one’s sexual identity is framed as a way that LGBQ people actively create safe spaces in the workplace for others to be authentic (Baker and Lucas 2017). Several assert that the visibility of LGBQ leaders can challenge the heteronormativity that is often inherent in mainstream leadership (Courtney 2014; Ferry 2017). Samdanis and Özbilgin (2020) go further and contend that experiences of inequality lead atypical leaders to develop leadership skills and qualities such as empathy, resilience, and perseverance, which are associated with values of equity, diversity, and inclusion. However, Samdanis and Özbilgin (2020) also note that viewing atypical leaders as pro-diversity can place pressure on them to live up to these ideas; this also creates expectations that atypical leaders will foster an inclusive work culture (Ayaz et al., 2023). Relatedly, the idea that authentic leadership is transformative can make false promises to remedy organisations’ problems and is “extremely naïve” (Einola and Alvesson 2021: 487). Finally, those who deviate from the prescription of the authentic leader may face a sense of failure for not living up to the ideal (Einola and Alvesson 2021: 488). In sum, the seemingly affirmative idea that atypical leaders can be authentic and unconditionally support diversity could be problematic. An organisation may promote an atypical leader to project a pro-diversity image but could lack the genuine commitment to support diversity in a meaningful way (Ayaz et al., 2023: 15). There is a need to question the degree to which initiatives that promote LGBT workplace inclusion will actively dismantle hetero- and cisnormativity in the workplace; this inquiry rarely receives sufficient scholarly interrogation (Ng and Rumens 2017: 115). It’s vital to recognize how environments influence authenticity and how organizational goals are placed upon individuals.
Shifting to the lived experiences of my participants, many spoke to discussions in the literature around how showing up authentically involves labour and is full of risks and challenges, as well as the notion of authenticity as a goal. Several participants spoke to the forces that support or constrain their ability to show up as the fullest versions of themselves at work. In an environment where homophobia is palpable, negative comments at work led to participants staying in the closet, even when they wanted to be out; at times, self-preservation felt more important than being out. Many participants described how they took time to observe their work environments and make careful, calculated decisions about the degree to which they may be open about their sexualities. Discussing workplace experiences, a lesbian woman in her early sixties said, “I would observe, I wouldn’t rush to declare it (sexuality). I would observe what they say, what they do. Because you can read, on what they say, how accepting they are of sexuality issues.” A few described how they weren’t necessarily worried about discrimination or harassment but were concerned that coming out would lead to their sexual identities overshadowing their professional identities; they didn’t want their LGBQ identity to be a point of focus in their professional worlds. For example, a lesbian woman in her early forties who is a leader in the NHS states, “We’ve got a lot of people who are like, you know, badge lesbians, who put themselves in for all these different things. And you know, and I just don’t, I don’t like that, because I don’t see it as a special protected thing that, you know, I don’t make a big fuss about it (sexuality), because I didn’t see it as a special thing.” It’s interesting to note how this participant refers to “badge lesbians” as people who are very much known for their sexual identities and asserts that she does not want to be known for her lesbian identity at work. How much participants share about who they are is dependent on the context and the audience; navigating this gap between public and private is an ongoing process that involves emotional labour.
There were several tensions and contradictions at play in these discussions of being open and authentic at work. Many of the same participants who articulated the risks and emotional labour involved in being out as LGBQ also emphasised how being out can feel like a responsibility. These participants felt some sense of duty to be visible as LGBQ even if sexuality wasn’t relevant to their work because it felt important to show other people, especially those “beneath you”, that you can be out in the workplace. A White British gay man in his mid-forties reflected on the earlier days of his career and expressed that knowing someone else who was openly LGBQ at work “offered huge comfort and a resource”. This amplifies his sense of responsibility to be out at work, as he feels that being visible is a powerful way to normalise the fact that there's a lot of diversity. Decisions around bringing their sexualities into the workplace were influenced not only by participants’ individual needs and desires, but also by the perceived needs of others in the workplace. For example, a bisexual woman in her mid-thirties said, “I think coming out as bisexual and being a bisexual leader or being a person who's bisexual and also a leader, means that you can create visibility in whatever field you're in beyond the professional.” This participant articulates the difference between being a “bisexual leader” and “being a person who’s bisexual and also a leader”; the former indicates an inherent link between leadership and sexuality, while the latter suggests more separation between the two identities. Several participants in this study grappled with this relationship between their sexuality and leadership, the degree to which they were able to shape this relationship, as well as how they were perceived by others. The ways in which participants navigated this relationship between sexuality and leadership, the sense of responsibility to others, as well as overall levels of acceptance in the work environment emphasises the multitude of factors that impact authenticity in leadership.
Authenticity and the fallacy of the “true self”
Ladkin’s integration of the concept of double consciousness (DuBois 1903) helps us problematize the notion of the true self in discussions of authentic leadership. DuBois, an African American scholar, developed the concept of double consciousness to emphasize the complexity and challenges of authenticity for marginalised people (originally discussing African American experiences). The issue for someone who wants to act authentically is that double consciousness presents not just what a person might want to do from a place of their true self, but also how this expression might be viewed by others (DuBois 1903 in Ladkin 2021, 396-397). Double consciousness emphasizes how the expression of the “true self” that one adopts may be constrained by how they expect it to be observed by others.
Ladkin and Taylor (2010) suggest that rather than viewing the self as something that is static and singular, we may see the self as an ongoing process; there may be many possible selves. People perform numerous social roles and often have both a private and a public sense of self (Ayaz et al., 2023: 10). Situational and organizational factors limit people from showing up as the truest versions of themselves to different extents, and Ladkin (2021) contends that, “some bodies will be more (obviously) constrained than others in acting “authentically”; however, their experiences only bring into sharp relief what is true for us all” (397). In other words, the experiences of marginalised people can be interpreted to highlight norms and constraints within an environment, avoiding the risk of naïve romanticism of that authenticity. By shifting the lens from the personal to contextual, the authenticity of LGBQ leaders can be made more central to discussions and theories of authenticity in leadership. Through drawing attention to work environments, the experiences of LGBQ people (and other minority leaders) can highlight prevailing norms, which become more visible when people who may not fit those norms come up against them. Becoming aware of normative constraints and expectations in a workplace environment is central to developing deeper, more nuanced understandings of what it means to be authentic and the potential forces that may shape or limit authenticity in leadership, for leaders and leadership theorists alike.
Relating back to participant experiences, this sense of double consciousness was articulated by one participant’s description of how he feels the need to be “gay for a straight audience” in his academic workplace. Considering what aspects of his gay identity he can bring into the workplace, he described how he can speak about having a husband, but not about attending queer parties at the weekend. This experience of managing one’s sexuality is not uncommon. Describing interactions with prisoners, another 34-year-old gay man who leads in the UK Prison Services said, “I think in the early days, I would not try and appear more straight, but I would just be very cautious about them finding out that I’m gay.” This depiction of not trying to appear as straight but being cautious about revealing his gay identity highlights situational constraints on being authentic in the workplace. Ethnic minority leaders emphasized how their ethnicity often increases this gap between how they identify and how others perceive them. A 62-year-old Chinese-British woman described challenges of being visible as a lesbian in her leadership role when people assume that Chinese women are straight. Similarly, an Indian-British gay man in his mid-forties expressed frustrations around how many people in his workplace (who have been through diversity and inclusion training) assume he has a wife, as Indian men are often assumed to be heterosexual. He described how he is faced with the choice to either come out in that moment (when he may not be ready), or go along with the assumption, which is a lie. Participants routinely described such challenges to be authentic when heteronormative assumptions are part of their workplace contexts. For many, being authentic is not simply about “being your true self”; it is also about the dilemma of whether, when, and how to refute notions of who people assume you truly are or should be.
For some, sexuality may form the core of one’s leadership role, while for others this may be only a small part of one’s identity as a leader (Fassinger et al., 2010). In line with this, my participants highlighted how they come into leadership roles with multiple identities, among which sexuality is not always the most prominent. For many participants, gender feels ever-present while sexuality is not as apparent. One bisexual woman in her mid-thirties expressed, “I’m mostly invisible as a bisexual person. So, that’s something that unless I want to bring it up is not going to be something that people think about. Whereas me being a woman is something people are going to think about from the moment I walk in the door.” Numerous other women, as well as trans and non-binary folks, felt that their gender identity has had a greater impact on their leadership experiences compared to their sexualities. Several participants who are ethnic minorities expressed that their ethnicity has been more prominent than sexuality. Participant narratives challenged both the concept of the singular, “true self” and the norm of coming out as LGBQ. Critical discussions of authenticity emerging from leadership studies are immediately relevant to these participants’ understandings of what authenticity means in their day-to-day working lives.
What we expect of authenticity
In the discourse of authenticity as transformative, authenticity can become an imperative for minority leaders and transformation can become their individual obligation. In the case of LGBQ leaders, coming out and being visible is often equated with authentic leadership. As previously stated, many participants did feel the force of the norm to be open about their LGBQ identity, particularly for the benefit of “people beneath them”, who may have less power in the work environment. Describing the feeling of being authentic, a 40-year-old lesbian woman who came out in her professional life after being closeted for over a decade said, “it honestly feels like I was holding my breath for a really long time, and now I can just breathe normally.” Some participants did express that being a sexual minority has made them a more empathetic leader and expressed a desire to support marginalized people. However, this empathy is imbued with labour. Several described how being empathetic in a leadership role is a real challenge, as it makes it difficult to “turn off” from work, which can be detrimental to physical and mental health. One transgender bisexual man in his late forties explained how he is very passionate about his work but added that, “I actually find leadership roles in some way quite uncomfortable because it makes me feel like I’m the centre and there are expectations.” Other participants articulated how they don’t feel much of a connection between their sexuality and their leadership role but felt that other people expected them to be visible as an LGBQ person in a leadership role.
These data lead me to join others (Ayaz et al., 2023; Ladkin 2021), in critiquing the idea that the authenticity of minority leaders simply promotes diversity and fosters an inclusive work culture. Rather, we need to question what we are asking of people when we ask them to be authentic, particularity people who are coming from socio-demographic disadvantage and underrepresented social categories. Many participants were asked, or even expected to be involved in diversity groups and initiatives at their organisations. While some were willing to contribute to these efforts, several participants criticized equity, diversity and inclusion discourses as they can feel “tokenistic”, and resisted the idea that their sexuality should mark them as “other”.
Concluding thoughts
Rather than romanticising the notion of authenticity and its transformative potential, I conclude by challenging the idyllic belief that any leader can show up as their “true self.” Exposing aspects of your “true self” can be viewed as an act of vulnerability, with the potential to create deeper connections with others (Ladkin and Taylor 2010). Leaders may be expected to reveal their authentic selves through practices and behaviours but may simultaneously face pressures to suppress “negative” qualities of the self (Ford and Harding 2011). The LGBQ leaders in my research articulated how their self-expression is constantly negotiated in practice. Leaders’ accounts of these experiences speak back to acontextual notions of authenticity based on the experiences of straight, white men, who are most often represented in leadership roles in the West. As previously stated, typical leaders may express themselves authentically at work and be rewarded, whereas the authenticity of atypical leaders can be risky and emotionally challenging in particular ways (Ayaz et al., 2023: 4). Participants’ narratives challenge the creeping obligations to come out and be authentic that LGBQ leaders face, particularly from equity, diversity, and inclusion initiatives.
In the face of the twin threats of erasure and romanticization of their leadership, LGBQ people are pragmatic about how and when to bring their sexualities into their leadership roles in particular contexts. Many research participants speak of their authenticity as precarious, as they navigate how much of themselves they can bring into the workplace, when, where, and how. Their pragmatism in these contexts should challenge any easy expectations that minority individuals can, should, or will perform authenticity for the sake of diversity, inclusion, and transformation. Participants navigated expectations around how personal encounters with inequality will shape pro-diversity views and make minority leaders champions of diversity in the workplace (see also Ayaz et al., 2023; Samdanis and Özbilgin 2020). They were aware of expectations of authentic LGBQ leadership and also expressed why their leadership did not always fit that model. Indeed, leader’s own partial recognition of the norm to be an authentic LGBQ leader, as well as a preoccupation with how they were viewed by others (see also Ayaz et al., 2023) may be reasons why so many expressed feelings of “impostor syndrome” in leadership. This sense of not quite fitting an idealized model of leadership added further complexities around showing up authentically.
Indeed, those who experience the most risks and challenges around authenticity may even be expected to have the most transformative potential as an authentic leader. Several participants described how after coming out in their leadership roles, they faced expectations to speak for their sexualities, placing an obligation on them to speak on behalf of other people and explain others’ identities and experiences by standing on the ground of their own. Discussing her leadership experiences, a lesbian woman in her late fifties emphasized this point as she stated, “I would be viewed as some kind of expert, you know, and my experience is specific to my own multifaceted identity. I can't claim to speak for gay men or bisexuals or trans women or trans men.” Corporate expectations to “be authentic” can become coercive by compelling people to speak about matters that they would prefer to keep private, and this paradoxically differentially impacts minorities whose authenticity, developed through hardship, has become romanticized. Promoting corporate diversity can leave individuals with minority characteristics with an obligation to both reveal their own struggles and speak for others’ experiences. I contend that discourses of authentic leadership would benefit from framing this paradox more explicitly in critiques of how “authenticity” is socially produced and corporately demanded, and that authenticity is not the responsibility or moral obligation of any individual or group.
The power of authenticity lies in its ability to expose power relations in leadership and work environments, as it can highlight the internal and external resistance that people may (or may not) face in bringing their multiple, complex selves to work. Authentic leadership theories could better engage with the complexities and contradictions inherent within the discourse of authenticity by insisting on the recognition of both who the leader is trying to be, and of what performances of authenticity are expected or normative in their context. Relatedly, theories of authentic leadership could be expanded by examining the conditions that create psychological safety in a workplace. The term psychological safety (coined by Harvard Business School professor Amy Edmondson) is broadly defined as a climate in which people are comfortable expressing and being themselves (Edmonson, 2018: xvi). I would argue that a commitment to concepts such as “psychological safety” should lead to an exploration of the conditions that allow for people to express themselves authentically, on their own terms. In this sense, authenticity may be approached with a sense of curiosity and humility rather than imposed as a morally superior way of being in leadership, particularly on minority leaders.
Footnotes
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the H2020 Marie Skłodowska-Curie Actions; (953326)
