I've always struggled with being more warm than competent ever since I was a kid.
Working in the mostly male dominated industry of software engineering, being warm or "soft" almost surely was seen as being weak. There was always this self demeaning voice in my head saying "Im the only one like this, so weak". I literally had a tough time trying to "man up" and eventually felt this field was not for me. Enter a female mentor who helped in a way so warm and competent and saw that and encouraged me to embrace it. I realized that both warmth & competence can and should co-exist to make work, work.
I got laid off from that job where I had the female mentor(investor led decision) but got into another mostly-male team with a much better role. During that interview, I remember I literally in my head, was trying to put aside the "man-ed up" version of me and to approach it and every conversation after with care and my competence. Landing the job was something I was least expecting while also a good assurance that warmth to the people and problems at work can take me ahead. I still struggle especially with everything going remote. But this interview definitely encourages me, to know that warmth is a tool so important if I want to make an impact and also in a world that says we need to be ruthless.
Note to self: "Im the only one like this" should ring in my head with more of a celebratory tone than a self-demeaning tone!
Thankyou Jessica & Zoe for those pearls of wisdom!
This was amazing, Jessica -- thank you to both you and Zoe.
I learned almost all of my warmth skills during childhood, watching my parents interact with their colleagues and clients, and then in the first few years of my career, working for and with a few really warm, powerful, effective female leaders. I feel super lucky, because for a long time I often let my shyness and discomfort override my warmth. (Almost anyone who knows me would laugh at my saying I'm shy, but I am -- until I know you, and then I never shut up. I've been accused many times of being aloof, and it's just because I don't know what to DO or SAY, not because I actually feel detached or uncaring. Having models for, literally, how to be, how to interact with and talk to people, how to be warm at work, was life-changing.)
Anyway, my point is that because I *am* warm and competent, I've found that the times I have been "angry and aggressive" and had to draw a very clear line (not always one and the same), people listen. Because it's out of the ordinary for me, so it's important.
Five years years ago, I was sexually harassed by a close associate of my organization, someone who'd held a position of power on our board, who I'd spent a year working with on a special project. It was the lowest moment of my working life and I spent the weekend agonizing over whether to tell anyone what had happened -- I didn't want to, for all the reasons women don't report sexual harassment in the workplace. Then I found out that minutes before his encounter with me, this person had done something even more egregious to one of my coworkers, a close friend (who happens to be an immigrant and never wants to cause any trouble), and I went nuclear. I met with my CEO on Monday morning and after years of deposits of "warmth and competence" in my organization's emotional bank, I made a huge withdrawal -- I held nothing back. He listened, he heard me, action was taken. Maybe the outcome would have been the same if I didn't have those "soft" skills, if I wasn't warm, but I suspect not. Warmth is a tremendous asset, and it makes a difference during the times you need to be the opposite.
Sarah, I always appreciate your depth and thoughtfulness. Your first paragraph really resonated with me on a personal level. Your statement about feeling warmth but not knowing how to express it when you were a kid reminds me of one of my own kids. This is giving me lots of ideas for how to better coach him through these situations.
Your story about work is very powerful; thank you for sharing it with us. I'm sorry this happened to both you and your colleague. And it also makes me very angry to think that there are women whose harassment complaints may be taken less seriously because they demonstrate less warmth, or are viewed as less "likeable" and therefore less credible.
I'd love to hear your ideas about coaching your son on this topic. (Maybe a future post?)
I mean I think we live in a world where women's harassment complaints are taken less seriously for a million bullshit reasons, right? But it's definitely interesting to ponder the factor of un-likeability -- who's going to go to bat for you, if they don't like you? (And if they do fight for you even if they don't like you, will they fight as hard?)
It took me awhile to get over what happened. Sometimes I think about my reaction -- I froze, totally, couldn't say anything, couldn't even move my body, but what if I had done it differently? What if my natural impulse had been to slap him or fight him; what if I'd defended myself? That's not warm or like-able (however justified). Would my speaking up have been received differently? (Maybe more to the point: WHY DO WE EVEN NEED TO THINK ABOUT THESE THINGS?)
I really struggle with this takeaway about warmth and likeability. In a way, it just confirms what we already suspect. But as you aptly address together, it makes it complicated for women. Because if likeability is more important than competence, and likeability of women often enforced gendered ideas of what we expect from women, then it becomes a trap.
If I think of how I’d “teach” this to my kids I think it would be less gendered to speak of competence and vulnerability.
Seo Yun, I so appreciate this comment and have been grappling with this, too. It's caused me to reflect on times in my career when I've felt the need to prove my competence. It's resulted in my being overly "professional" (i.e., emotionless), which is not only inauthentic, but--as Zoe pointed out--also potentially damaging to my ultimate goal of getting people to listen to me.
I've also been reflecting on the idea of professional warmth, and when I think about the mentors and leaders who have been most influential in my career, it's been those who I believed cared about me. To me, conveying warmth means demonstrating your interest and investment in those around you (important for parents, too!)
I've always struggled with being more warm than competent ever since I was a kid.
Working in the mostly male dominated industry of software engineering, being warm or "soft" almost surely was seen as being weak. There was always this self demeaning voice in my head saying "Im the only one like this, so weak". I literally had a tough time trying to "man up" and eventually felt this field was not for me. Enter a female mentor who helped in a way so warm and competent and saw that and encouraged me to embrace it. I realized that both warmth & competence can and should co-exist to make work, work.
I got laid off from that job where I had the female mentor(investor led decision) but got into another mostly-male team with a much better role. During that interview, I remember I literally in my head, was trying to put aside the "man-ed up" version of me and to approach it and every conversation after with care and my competence. Landing the job was something I was least expecting while also a good assurance that warmth to the people and problems at work can take me ahead. I still struggle especially with everything going remote. But this interview definitely encourages me, to know that warmth is a tool so important if I want to make an impact and also in a world that says we need to be ruthless.
Note to self: "Im the only one like this" should ring in my head with more of a celebratory tone than a self-demeaning tone!
Thankyou Jessica & Zoe for those pearls of wisdom!
I love this. Your warmth gives you such a leg-up in your field--I celebrate that with you!
This was amazing, Jessica -- thank you to both you and Zoe.
I learned almost all of my warmth skills during childhood, watching my parents interact with their colleagues and clients, and then in the first few years of my career, working for and with a few really warm, powerful, effective female leaders. I feel super lucky, because for a long time I often let my shyness and discomfort override my warmth. (Almost anyone who knows me would laugh at my saying I'm shy, but I am -- until I know you, and then I never shut up. I've been accused many times of being aloof, and it's just because I don't know what to DO or SAY, not because I actually feel detached or uncaring. Having models for, literally, how to be, how to interact with and talk to people, how to be warm at work, was life-changing.)
Anyway, my point is that because I *am* warm and competent, I've found that the times I have been "angry and aggressive" and had to draw a very clear line (not always one and the same), people listen. Because it's out of the ordinary for me, so it's important.
Five years years ago, I was sexually harassed by a close associate of my organization, someone who'd held a position of power on our board, who I'd spent a year working with on a special project. It was the lowest moment of my working life and I spent the weekend agonizing over whether to tell anyone what had happened -- I didn't want to, for all the reasons women don't report sexual harassment in the workplace. Then I found out that minutes before his encounter with me, this person had done something even more egregious to one of my coworkers, a close friend (who happens to be an immigrant and never wants to cause any trouble), and I went nuclear. I met with my CEO on Monday morning and after years of deposits of "warmth and competence" in my organization's emotional bank, I made a huge withdrawal -- I held nothing back. He listened, he heard me, action was taken. Maybe the outcome would have been the same if I didn't have those "soft" skills, if I wasn't warm, but I suspect not. Warmth is a tremendous asset, and it makes a difference during the times you need to be the opposite.
Sarah, I always appreciate your depth and thoughtfulness. Your first paragraph really resonated with me on a personal level. Your statement about feeling warmth but not knowing how to express it when you were a kid reminds me of one of my own kids. This is giving me lots of ideas for how to better coach him through these situations.
Your story about work is very powerful; thank you for sharing it with us. I'm sorry this happened to both you and your colleague. And it also makes me very angry to think that there are women whose harassment complaints may be taken less seriously because they demonstrate less warmth, or are viewed as less "likeable" and therefore less credible.
I'd love to hear your ideas about coaching your son on this topic. (Maybe a future post?)
I mean I think we live in a world where women's harassment complaints are taken less seriously for a million bullshit reasons, right? But it's definitely interesting to ponder the factor of un-likeability -- who's going to go to bat for you, if they don't like you? (And if they do fight for you even if they don't like you, will they fight as hard?)
It took me awhile to get over what happened. Sometimes I think about my reaction -- I froze, totally, couldn't say anything, couldn't even move my body, but what if I had done it differently? What if my natural impulse had been to slap him or fight him; what if I'd defended myself? That's not warm or like-able (however justified). Would my speaking up have been received differently? (Maybe more to the point: WHY DO WE EVEN NEED TO THINK ABOUT THESE THINGS?)
+1 on a post for coaching children on expressing their warmth.
Noted! I'll plan on writing something up in the next Read-Connect-Reflect.
I really struggle with this takeaway about warmth and likeability. In a way, it just confirms what we already suspect. But as you aptly address together, it makes it complicated for women. Because if likeability is more important than competence, and likeability of women often enforced gendered ideas of what we expect from women, then it becomes a trap.
If I think of how I’d “teach” this to my kids I think it would be less gendered to speak of competence and vulnerability.
Love your posts! Keep them coming ☺️
Seo Yun, I so appreciate this comment and have been grappling with this, too. It's caused me to reflect on times in my career when I've felt the need to prove my competence. It's resulted in my being overly "professional" (i.e., emotionless), which is not only inauthentic, but--as Zoe pointed out--also potentially damaging to my ultimate goal of getting people to listen to me.
I've also been reflecting on the idea of professional warmth, and when I think about the mentors and leaders who have been most influential in my career, it's been those who I believed cared about me. To me, conveying warmth means demonstrating your interest and investment in those around you (important for parents, too!)