From its biological definition to considerations of its social constructs, the debate surrounding gender has reached fever pitch of late. Thorny, weaponised and heavily politicised, everyone has been weighing in on the issue: authors, entrepreneurs, social media influencers — to name a few.
Having co-founded a business ten years ago to address gender inequalities in industries at the grassroots level through children’s books, and being a father myself, I’ve been particularly interested in the concept of so-called ‘masculine energy’ in business — something that Mark Zuckerberg popularised earlier this year in the wake of a Trump presidency when he repealed Meta’s DE&I initiatives to embrace a work culture that supposedly fosters more of the traits that define masculinity.
Although masculine energy has not been explicitly defined by the man himself, we should, by default, be all too familiar with its components: decisiveness, goal orientation, ruthlessness, and hard logic. The entire discourse around masculinity, particularly the kind propagated by Zuckerberg, is prevalent — not least because the specific brand of masculinity promoted by certain influential figures (particularly those who sell ‘courses’ that promise the impressionable, material wealth and beautiful women in abundance) is intrinsically linked to the narrative of what constitutes business “success.”
The school of thought that underpins masculine energy in business is to never let fuzzy emotions interfere with winning. Single-mindedness is essential for reaching the apex of a treacherous hill; unemotiveness ensures calm in the face of adversity, and aggression provides the fuel to smash through barriers. While these traits can be positive to some degree, they become problematic when assumed to be the sole preserve of men instead of something universally prevalent in the human condition. It is also problematic that the inference of softer, though no less significant, traits inherent to the same success (emotional intelligence, collaboration, self-awareness) is maligned as feminine and therefore weak.
Acknowledging privilege is about responsibility, not guilt
These debates are culminating in a backlash against the social progression we’ve observed over the past decades: from the civil rights movement and the democratic election of America’s first Black president to women’s reproductive and LGBTQI+ rights. These backlashes are manifesting in policy changes that inflict real harm on those who, by the nature of their identity and how they are born, are marginalised.
Zuckerberg reportedly feared that corporate culture had become “neutered” due to espousing more inclusive and socially informed interventions within his company. He allegedly felt tired of apologising for things he believed he was not accountable for, or for matters that were not his fault. Presumably, he did not want to apologise for being a white, privileged male either. Arguably, why should he? He had no designs or control over being born into this life any more than I had over being born a British Black male. But this is not necessarily about apologising for being the beneficiary of riches given from an age-old system designed to favour men. It’s more about being aware that the system has been set up to disadvantage those who do not fit the mould. Acknowledging this fact is more than common courtesy; it’s common sense and the foundation for where all progress should be built.
In what other race, be it athletic or intellectual or otherwise, would we, as competitors, allow ourselves to participate on such an uneven playing field? Where, depending on where we are placed, we are blessed or cursed with advantages or obstacles that may aid or hinder our progress to the finishing line? This disparity is the essence of every mobilised social movement with the intent of making things fairer for all.
Bin the bravado, foster innovation
It is clear that we need to find a new way of discussing diversity. The current term has become distorted and misappropriated, risking social progression in both corporate and cultural spheres. What needs to be emphasised is the business case for simply being “human” – a matter of utmost urgency in which gender has become weaponised and where AI technologies are making it more challenging for us to differentiate between what has been generated by a sentient being and what has become the product of algorithms.
Historical anthropologists have long highlighted the primitive behaviours that ensured our species’ survival, not only to defend ourselves against the great and unpredictable wild but also to innovate and flourish. Single-mindedness and working in silo wasn’t the key to “winning”; being collaborative, community-minded, and empathetic ensured that we could co-work and co-habit in ways that benefited not only the individual but also the entire collective. These qualities were, and remain, essential to building relationships, fostering safety within our circles, and driving innovation. Those excluded did not survive for long, and banishment was tantamount to death. The whole masculine energy concept, based on the social constructs of what constitutes “manly” and heavily promoted by proponents of the so-called Manosphere, is quite impotent in isolation. And it is actually this form of isolationism, which masculine energy engenders, that stymies innovation. Businesses of today and tomorrow cannot risk that sort of regression.
Smashing stereotypes before they set in
Is part of the solution repositioning “good” traits as genderless and simply being human? Probably. But what is needed is a quiet revolution, and it starts early, at the grassroots, where our earliest perceptions of identity and self-belief are formed. Narratives should be presented by diverse role models who challenge conventions. Reverse engineering what is “normal” (fathers fixing things in sheds and mothers cooking in the kitchen) and creating an immersive reality where women are astronauts, engineers and train drivers and where men are nurses, care workers, and therapists dismantles engrained stereotypes of gendered professional roles. It opens up possibilities for young talent who might otherwise be put off from entering professions because they do not see people who look like them in specific roles. Indeed, this was the original inspiration for why our business exists.
My sister and business co-founder, Kerrine Bryan, now an award-winning engineer, attests from her own experience that young people are less inclined to pursue those paths when they do not feel represented. Admittedly, I never really considered some of the challenges that Kerrine faced and negotiated as a Black working-class woman entering the very white and male-dominated field of engineering. Not to excuse male bias, but I guess the relative ‘ease’ with which men can enter an all-male boardroom or be on a site with all-male workers can make this obliviousness all too easy. You can see why this is a collective work in progress.
Much of our creative work is about recasting vocabulary and labels, too. As a parent to three girls and as a writer, I have come to fully appreciate how unhelpful titles like ‘fireman’ and ‘matron’ are at dismantling sexist stereotypes. Hearing about these professionals’ real-life stories and challenges is quite sobering. For example, the ‘muse’ of our book, My Daddy Is A Nurse – Peter Towns, Associate Director of Nursing – described many instances where patients, friends and colleagues have questioned his intelligence and sexuality simply for pursuing a career in nursing.
Masculine energy in business is merely a pistol that fires blanks. It’s conceptual, empty, and counterintuitive to success in business. True potency lies in simply being human, embracing the complexities and unique personality traits of what it means to be a person. When we approach things from this stance, we effortlessly embrace diversity.
