I describe it, for humour’s sake, as like falling in love. That moment when you realise your place as golden employee has slip, slided away (with thanks to Simon and Garfunkel). Your boss or sponsor has literally fallen for another and you feel unceremoniously dumped.
You work hard, gain the attention of someone in senior management who thinks you are capable of flying as the direct result of key performance indicators. And for a period you do actually feel as though you can do anything, including grow a set of wings if need be. You are definitely capable of succeeding the boss – and he (it is mostly a he) sees that in you too.
But then He arrives on the scene. The son he never had. The man he never could be. The suit he wished he owned. And just like that, your male boss’s eyes have widened and he has lifted his sponsorship from your shoulder and placed it squarely onto the shoulders of this shiny new male as they head out for a beer, a game of golf or just a good old-fashioned man jargon chat, leaving you behind to deliver the budget. That thing they’re doing is what I have always referred to as man-love.
As a woman you can’t complain about it. That would surely sound like you’re bitchy, jealous or, perhaps worse, whining. So you get on with the job believing that if you continue to deliver the goods and the new guy continues to simply glow that eventually someone will see through it all.
The upshot is that no one ever really sees through it until times are desperate. Shiny guy can blind a boss without actually producing for a very long time before you get replaced or leave out of sheer frustration. So many women that I have mentored over the years from a variety of industries have told me their version of this sorry, common workplace tale.
My advice is to hang in there. Continue to deliver. Head down. Close your mind to the lovefest, and your eyes too (maybe especially your eyes) if need be. In my experience, eventually the pressures of missed financial results will result in the panic of such executives. Nine times out of 10 you don’t actually have to do anything, other than grit your teeth, drink a lot of red wine (or is that just me?) and wait for the inevitable.
Mr Shinypants is often adept at sniffing the winds of change and has the next big opportunity up his sleeve before quickly making his exit. Frustratingly, the former objects of love that I have worked alongside often land themselves an even bigger role in a large multi-national on triple the salary. Meanwhile you have been diligently working away, achieving quietly, mopping up the mess, hoping to be promoted.
The irony is that if we were less committed to the company’s success and more concerned with our own salary progression and star status the gender pay gap may be single rather than double digits. Who knows?
But who needs the love of a sponsor when there’s satisfaction and pride to be had? I can’t wait for the day when at least half the world’s CEOs are women and the next generation will be promoted on sheer merit. No sex appeal, no shiny suits, no schmoozing required. And no more gender pay gap.