

We still do not know how to react when stereotypes are threatened on who controls the resources — be it in a romantic relationship, or in the boardroom, or as the President of the United States
The defeat of Hillary Clinton is as worrying as the triumph of Donald Trump as the 45th POTUS. If she were a man, would Hillary have been disliked by as many votersIJ Hillary has had long innings in public life, she led the campaign with strength, and her political agenda as well as speeches were well-informed and tailored to suit her stature.
Yet there had been no other Democratic nominee since 1980 who exceeded the percentage of being as “strongly unfavoured” than Hillary. According to The Atlantic, 52 per cent of white men in the United States held a “very unfavourable” view of her Presidential candidacy. Her defeat had a lot to do with misalignment between public expectations and her conduct. This American tragedy has shown the world that we should indeed lose all hope that stereotypes can be shattered.
Power is bafflingly often associated with virility and manliness, and Hillary’s defeat reinforces that there is no getting away from it. Resources are becoming scarce the world over and the political fight to win the position to control these resources is getting more vicious, explaining the extraordinarily painful recent US Presidential campaign. The winner then evokes feelings such as awe, respect, fear, envy, from others.
Unfortunately, stereotypes dictate a greater chance for most societies to expect manliness — and not femininity — to earn these emotions of increased political power status. Of course, these stereotypes are localised and depend on many aspects, such as the scarcity of the resources in question and the perception of manliness itself. I must hasten to say here that this is not about gender per se, because men and women have varying levels of both masculinity and femininity in them.
I can give plenty more examples of other contexts where stereotypes drive who should be in power. In personal relationships, for instance, it is not uncommon to see that the partner who is the bread-earner has more power to make and break the relational rules or violate mutually agreed upon norms, without as much penalty as the less powerful partner would have had to redress. It is bewildering how this is often blindly accepted.
When stereotypes are flouted — such as the campaign of an authoritative woman American political leader such as Hillary or let us say in the case of a woman who questions the rules of a relationship — there can be immense resistance in attributing power to her. The reaction to Hillary showed up in dislike, misogyny, and finally her defeat.
In India, there is a peculiar practice in many companies to celebrate employee birthdays with a cake, coke, potato chips, and a bouquet of flowers, inside an office meeting room. Colleagues awkwardly line up during the designated time, the more enthusiastic ones start to sing a birthday song, and the cake is cut. The cake is smeared on the face of the employee being celebrated. Then comes the moment when it must be decided who would slice and serve the cake to all celebrants in the room. All eyes turn to the women in the room.
Even if there is one woman in a room full of men, and even if all the men might be in greater proximity to the cake than the woman, the role of slicing and serving the cake, coke, and chips must be hers despite her reluctance. This practice is considered normal because of the stereotype in this context that the woman in the room is better at serving others.
This is not as much about gender only, than it is about choice. Practices that reinforce skill and behaviour stereotypes make it even more challenging for both men and women to lead or even just conduct themselves in a manner of their own individual choice.
A few years ago, I embarked on an experiment. I was managing a large team spread across a few countries and my daily activities would include several rounds of hard negotiations with my CXO peers. My team as well as peers were all men without a single exception, many of whom were older to me by at least a decade. The experiment I set myself up was to get the work done without ever losing my humour, humility, rather effeminate qualities, and youthfulness. The consequence of it could well have been that I would not be taken seriously within the organisation because of being considered too soft for the role.
In many aggressive business environments, the control of resources — whether financial, ideas or decisions, people — typically expect stereotypical attributes of forcefulness and authority in a leader. Whether it is a man or a woman, being soft is at best the scenic route to the top.
I did navigate my way by ensuring every decision I made and every opinion I pronounced were utterly well-thought through, such that I would leave no chance of blame to befall on my personal style. The blames were averted by hard work, power was earned by others’ respect, but every once in a while, the reactions are still perfectly absurd. Those are the times when someone is reducing my individuality to the stereotype I supposedly need to be.
I worry that we still do not know how to react when stereotypes are threatened on who controls the resources — be it in a romantic relationship, or in the boardroom, or as the President of the United States of America.
The writer is Chief Sustainability Officer for the group of companies, Jindal Steel and Power ltd. She is a Global leadership Alumna of the World Economic Forum. miniya.chatterji@jindalsteel.com