This article is written by Neave Beard, researcher for Essex County Council, UK

Writing for Apolitical’s Women in Government writing competition last year led me to think more deeply about how the battle for equality can be won.

It was my first time writing anything for the public domain. While I wasn’t expecting accolades, the response I did get was pretty awesome. A lot of women came forward after reading it, telling me how much my words had resonated with them.

Given its intended audience, I wasn’t altogether surprised that the article had more of an impact on the women in my life. However, I was curious to know what the men in my life would make of it, so I sent it round to them.

I don’t know whether its luck, or some serious curation on my part, but most of the guys were sympathetic to the article’s central point, that “organisations are at best foolish and at worst negligible if they don’t act and stop missing out on moments of brilliance from [the] quiet voices [of women]''.

One response stood out however, so much so that I felt it was perfect to use as a demonstration of what we — men and women alike —  need to recognise in order to be fully effective allies in the fight against sexism.

Women have battled against, and overcome, many forms of in-your-face sexism over the past several decades

The person I’m referring to will remain anonymous, but he works in local government. When he read my article, he elected to use it to initiate a professional development conversation with two female newbies on his team.

The reason this stood out to me is that he didn’t attempt to articulate the female experience on their behalf. Had he done so, this would have made for a typical situation in which a man, with the best of intentions, “mansplains” what women go through, in order to show he understands them. This is not the same as empathy. Rather, it amounts to hogging the soapbox from women who should be trusted to articulate the problem, based on lived experience.

The example of the man I mention here shows that there are vocal allies already sowing seedlings of change in the public sector. This on its own isn’t enough however. Women may no longer get asked in job interviews whether they are taking contraception (a real testimonial, lest this should sound dramatic), but they and their allies must still confront myriad forms of covert discrimination.

Covert sexism

Women have battled against, and overcome, many forms of in-your-face sexism over the past several decades. These forms of discrimination however have left many subtle traces within institutions. One in particular I will address now, partly because it is so hard to recognise, and even harder to fix without an army of allies.

Let’s go back to the person in the previous story.

Two weeks after hosting the professional development talk, this friend and I got into a discussion about gender quotas for job interviews. He told me he hires solely on “individual merit”, as does everyone he knows. He couldn’t see the problem with this approach.

What followed was a debate over the many factors that go into deciding who gets an interview to begin with. The examples used throughout were standard: you have two candidates, both equally qualified, only one has a three-year gap on their resume, and requires flexible hours allowing for last minute changes and an “out-of-office” notice towards the end of the day.

Most who really think about this can deduce that the second candidate is likely a parent, and likely a mother. Should this decide who is afforded the chance to be interviewed right there and then? Again, most who really think about it would probably say not.

If you’ve had the good fortune to never experience sexism (especially since sexism does cut both ways), then you probably still don’t understand the half of it

This is not to say that the first candidate in this example automatically shouldn’t get the job either. Rather, the point is that it is important to acknowledge the multitude of hidden factors that push a woman’s starting line further back, before the starting gun has even been raised. It should be said meanwhile that this is especially true for women of ethnic minorities.

Unfortunately, my friend could not see why this situation necessitated an intervention, such as a gender quota. He simply did not trust that the problem I was describing was real.

The importance of trust

So, on two different occasions, my friend displayed the two opposing sides of feminist allyship. One side recognises the need to let go and allow understanding to come from outside oneself, from those who truly understand. The other relies on personal or herd instinct, which is often to assume we already live in a world where the best for the job prevails irrespective of their profile.

The reason I’ve decided to write about these two sides is because I believe there can be no allyship without trust in what people tell you is going on for them.

In a world where more than 99.9% of us have never set foot on the moon, most of us can still bring ourselves to believe it happened. We should therefore be able to reach a consensus about gender inequality which asks some of us to trust others, even without knowing their firsthand experience.

Sympathy is helpful, empathy even more so, though this is hard to achieve. But trust, trust is the key. If you’ve had the good fortune to never experience sexism (especially since sexism does cut both ways), then you probably still don’t understand the half of it. It’s okay to not totally “get it”, but if you are a true ally, you do have to trust that what women are telling you is happening.

Ask any woman in your life, and when she describes the times she’s experienced it, trust her. At the very least, help to legitimise the issue. And then ask her how you can help. – Neave Beard
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