When an Australia-based McKinsey partner dismissed the glass cliff as “a very convenient way to always be a victim in the rain”, he was commenting on a post about Shannon Nutter’s book. When women called him out and urged him to examine the evidence, he followed up by saying he wouldn’t bother researching it because it didn’t rank among the world’s top thousand problems. After multiple media outlets reported on the backlash, the partner was removed from his leadership role and stepped down from the charity board.
Now, as Shannon arrives in Australia for a working holiday, she explains why the problem runs far deeper than one man’s LinkedIn comment.
A senior McKinsey partner recently dismissed the ‘glass cliff’ in a LinkedIn thread as a convenient way for women to play the victim. The original post referenced a book I co-authored with Julia Carreon. Walking on Broken Glass: Navigating the Aftermath of the Glass Ceiling draws on our experience reaching the C-suite at major financial institutions and interviews with more than 100 women worldwide who navigated similar barriers. The McKinsey partner’s response helps illustrate why we wrote it.
Challenged about his comments, the partner said he would not be researching the “glass cliff” because it did not rank among the world’s top thousand problems. Bloomberg, the Sydney Morning Herald, the Australian Financial Review, Forbes and other media outlets reported on the fallout. The partner in question has since been removed from his leadership role and stepped down from a charity board.
This story shows how readily people dismiss women’s experiences, even when decades of research supports them. Julia challenged his comments directly, but the questions they raise extend well beyond one man.
The ‘glass cliff’ is an international term coined in 2005 by Professor Michelle Ryan, who now leads the Global Institute of Women’s Leadership at the Australian National University, and Professor Alex Haslam, a social and organisational psychologist based at the University of Queensland. It describes a pattern where women are disproportionately appointed to leadership positions during crises or organisational decline, when the risk of failure is high. Where the ‘glass ceiling’ keeps women from reaching the top, the ‘glass cliff’ puts them in precarious positions once they get there. As the concept has returned to the spotlight, women have been speaking out that it has happened to them too, not just in the C-suite, but at all levels of organisations.
McKinsey should understand the importance of examining these gendered barriers. Its own annual Women in the Workplace research, the largest study of women in Corporate America, has documented the obstacles women face for more than a decade. They’re considered a global expert on the topic, and the work generates significant value to the brand. A firm that advises others on women’s advancement globally should expect its leaders to engage seriously with evidence about what stands in their way.
In our own executive careers, Julia and I experienced these institutional barriers and patterns firsthand. For years, we were handed the same explanations for why women disappear from senior leadership: not leaning in far enough, imposter syndrome, ambition gaps, being too assertive or not assertive enough. The solutions often followed the same logic: mentoring, leadership training, confidence workshops. Ultimately, they returned to this consistent premise: change the women; the systems are just fine.
That premise leaves too much unexamined. It allows exclusionary behaviour to become normalised – the type of incidents that people roll their eyes at, explain away or quietly advise women to endure, but do nothing to change. This behaviour enables the status quo to thrive.
Julia and I wrote our book to help women recognise and understand these patterns, prepare for workplace challenges, find their own voices to stand up for themselves and one another, and build the collective power needed to change them.
But the ‘glass cliff’ the McKinsey partner targeted is only one part of the story. Our book also examines what happens after women reach senior leadership and how some successful women can be undermined and forced out. A predictable playbook that Julia and I call ‘the takedown’.
We use this term to describe the progressive undermining and removal of a woman whose success, integrity or willingness to challenge power has made her a threat. The women we interviewed repeatedly described qualities their organisations claimed to value – at least on paper: honesty, courage, and a willingness to question the status quo. But when those same qualities unsettle someone with influence, they can suddenly be considered liabilities.
The pattern cited often begins with small changes: a cancelled one-on-one, being dropped from a meeting, a promised role that never materialises, or vague performance concerns after years of strong reviews.
Any one of these events on their own might have an ordinary explanation. Taken together and sustained over time, they can leave a woman increasingly isolated, with fewer opportunities to contribute, and little chance to answer concerns that were never clearly outlined.
In the accounts we gathered, the process often unfolded over 12 to 24 months. Many women did not recognise the pattern until their position had become untenable.
The aftermath was profound. Some women told us they had been diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. Others were pushed out in their fifties, during their peak earning years, and could not secure an equivalent role.
The financial consequences extend well beyond a lost salary. They include diminished future earnings and superannuation – a cumulative loss we call the “Takedown Gap”. Organisations may record a departure and move on, but a woman who has experienced a ‘takedown’ could carry financial, psychological and reputational consequences for years, if not the rest of her life, often impacting both her and her family.
This phenomenon also deserves attention in any serious discussion about the leadership pipeline. Recruitment, mentoring and promotion matter. So does examining
why experienced women leave, particularly when an apparently sudden departure follows years of strong performance.
Organisations need to ask harder questions. When performance assessments change abruptly, what evidence supports the change? When a senior woman loses access to meetings, responsibilities or decision-makers, who reviews what has happened? When she raises concerns, is there a credible way to investigate them outside the reporting line involved?
Boards and executives should examine patterns across departures, including who is leaving, at what stage of their career and under whose leadership. Exit interviews are of limited value if no one acts on what they reveal.
Women supporting one another matters too. We can share information, give credit, recommend one another for opportunities, and speak up when we see a colleague being sidelined. Those actions become more powerful when organisations make it possible to challenge exclusion without risking the same treatment.
The McKinsey controversy has shown how easily research on women’s leadership can be dismissed. Removing one partner from a leadership role addresses an individual’s conduct. The firm now has an opportunity to show what it looks like to take the underlying issue seriously. That means listening to women, examining the evidence, and scrutinising the decisions that shape their careers, including the decisions that end them.
The pipeline isn’t broken because women aren’t ready or willing. It’s broken because someone keeps cutting it. Getting women to the top is only part of the work. Organisations must also answer for what happens once they arrive.
Every poor decision holds a lesson if we’re wise enough to take it. True growth means admitting where we haven’t been our best, asking why, and deciding how to do better. Acting on that information is a choice.
We can’t stay quiet. Working women everywhere, in Australia and internationally, deserve better.