The business book all working women have read

(OK, it doesn't exist, but I'm now seriously considering writing it).

The search term for this stock image was ‘woman realising she just sent an email with two exclamation marks.’

I went on my recent holiday with grand ideas of writing a new fiction piece and, at the very least, reading ten books. Ambitious, moi? Obviously it didn’t quite go like that.

Taking a break from my novel (-reading, not -writing) to do the obligatory daily doomscroll, I came across a post on Sheryl Sandberg’s instagram about a new essay in the New York Times by Adam Grant: ‘‘Women Know Exactly What They’re Doing When They Use ‘Weak Language’’.

Grant is a well-known psychologist and writer with a popular instagram feed himself, but I must have only fleetingly registered his name before reading because as I scrolled down the article, furiously nodding, I also felt a competing thought nagging in the back of my mind.

It went something like: ‘Hold up, did I see this was written by a man?’

I had to stop, scroll back up and double check that yes, I was being explained why women use ‘weak language’ in the workplace by a man who presumably never had to stoop so low as to putting an exclamation mark in his email to ‘soften the delivery.’

It would be a sad world if we stopped writers from exploring the experiences of those who identify differently from them, especially when investigated and articulated with empathy and curiosity. And Grant clearly does that in this piece, as well as confronting the unfairness that, as a man writing on this topic, ‘it’s easier for [him] to call out these dynamics than it is for women, who get penalized if they dare to point out the same disparities.’

I certainly don’t wish to stop men, and especially the well-intentioned ones, exploring and interrogating these common, socialised tropes about women. But believing all this didn’t stop my rising frustration as I scrolled the article.

‘Women: they’re cleverer than you think’

When Covid arrived and flexible, remote working became the norm, I joked to a colleague that Americans - known worldwide for their somewhat overzealous work ethic - would be the first to ‘discover’ work-life balance, repackage it, market it, and sell it to the Europeans. And we’d happily hand over our money.

I felt a similar sort of bittersweet chagrin reading Grant’s piece. It seemed the written version of when a woman raises an idea in a meeting and is ignored, only for the same comment to come up minutes later from a male colleague, and be applauded.

It’s one thing to document a particular observation and call the mechanics of it into question, but what irks is the sense that women’s self-preservation tactics, doggedly crafted to fit into a working world not built for them, are being positioned as ‘good business sense’, and ‘newly discovered’ at that.

Half of the article rightly calls into the spotlight the injustice of women having to tiptoe around the workplace, and the other half… well, I think I can best sum up the vibe as: ‘Women: they’re cleverer than you think’.

For what it’s worth, I agree with this thrust of the argument - that ‘weaker’ communication is often more emotionally intelligent and, in many situations, arguably stronger than other more ‘direct’ forms. Which is why I think the NYT should have given me this guest essay, and not Adam Grant.

I’m only half joking, really. I’d’ve settled for, oh: almost any working woman.

The bestselling business book you didn’t know existed

After all, everything Grant documents is straight from that well-worn business textbook, ‘How to be a Successful Working Women who is seen as Confident but Not Too Confident and Definitely Not a Bitch,’ that we women have been passing around for years.*

And even when we haven’t talked about it, we’ve by and large followed the golden rules, which include:

• Always add a ‘just’ in front of any reasonable request to make it seem less threatening e.g. ‘I was just wondering if you’d finished that document you told me three times already you’d have finished by last week?’

• Use questions to make the other feel comfortable, even if it diminishes your own knowledge and expertise: ‘Does that make sense?’ works well. Or you can simply tag one on at the end ‘The data shows that campaign was a success, no?’

• Don’t forget to finish off with a ‘Sorry’ or ‘Apologies’, even if you didn’t do anything wrong (NB: this may just be British women 😅)

And my favourite:

• If you’re unsure your request or comment may be taken in the wrong way, add a friendly exclamation point! But only one, or you’ll be seen as lightweight.

Of course, I’m pushing these to the extreme to make a point; it’s not as straightforward as ‘these examples = bad’, or ‘more direct communication = good’.

Using this language can convey insecurity, and it can also get you what you want in a way that reduces upset and confrontation all-round. It’s not an either/or, and some of it can track back to your own motivations in a situation, firstly as an individual (what are you trying to achieve?) and then taking into account the other people you’re ‘playing with’ (e.g. I would be more direct with some colleagues than others, depending on their own communication style).

‘It worked for me!’

I’ve used this type of ‘weak language’ for much of my working life, and I don’t think it’s held me back - in fact I think it’s a key reason I’m particularly strong at project management (which isn’t just managing tasks [easy] it’s also managing people who have to help you do those tasks [very hard]).

I’ve also been consistently told that I am approachable and good at motivating my team, which - as well as aiding a good environment for them, something that’s important to me - is also conducive to getting things done.

But I’ve also been told repeatedly that I suffer from a confidence problem and imposter syndrome. I’ve ‘suffered’ with this affliction a long time, yet as I’ve gotten older, I’ve also got angrier about it being used as a label for me and other women who, essentially, just visibly give a shit about their work. Not because I feel boxed-in or defined by it - or even that I think it’s untrue. I do often have confidence issues and feelings of imposter syndrome but… it’s just not that helpful to tell me this? And side note, it’s rarely something I’ve heard said about any man I work with, even those with confidence issues.

To put it another way, I don’t think women aren’t getting promotions or pay rises because of their ‘weak communication’ (and in fact, Grant’s essay references this study that supports my inkling). Women aren’t getting promoted because the modern workplace - and society - is still set up to see men as natural leaders, and women as their natural supporters.

‘Women’s confidence issues’ have become a handwringer ‘we must solve’, when mandatory paternity leave, better childcare options, and potentially even quotas would be better priorities for us to focus on - and ones that would benefit all of society, not just women.

Nevertheless, I’ve definitely benefitted from making concerted efforts to be more assertive in how I operate, on paper and in-person, especially as I’ve become more senior. Perhaps in turn more direct speakers might get what they want, faster, if they softened their approach?

Three tips for better workplace communication (ready for when I go write that book…)

I already told you: I’ve been - and still am - that person who uses ‘weak’ (bleurgh) communication. And I’ve been - and still am - that person who tries every day to be more assertive.

With that in mind, these are three communication tips that touch across the spectrum. Some are tips from others which I’ve found most helpful, and others are personal ‘go-to’s I live by.

Just Stop apologising. Now.

The best, and most useful, comms advice was from an old boss, Margaret Manning - an astonishingly clever, canny, and frankly formidable woman.

I remember one day, seemingly out of the blue, she asked to speak to me. She took me into a meeting room, sat me down, and politely but directly said: ‘you need to stop apologising in your emails’.

She then told, no - ordered - me to review every single email I sent in the next week for any even vaguely apologetic notion. Every time I said ‘just’, or ‘sorry’, or even ‘apologies for the delay’, I had to strike them out or turn them into positives.

‘One week’, she reiterated. ‘And when that week is over I promise you, you’re going to feel so much more confident’.

And I did. I still think back to this advice regularly - and I’m still, five years on, unable to follow it every time, but it works. Acting like I was more assertive, made me feel more assertive. I’ve passed it onto many other peers and team members too. So if I’ve shared it with any of you before - this is your reminder: Stop. Apologising.

Don’t use a sledgehammer to crack a nut

Communication is a tool. Like any other, you need to pick the right one for the job. Consider what’s the best approach given the job, situation, or person you’re tackling. We are all humans, at the end of the day. What works for one, won’t for another.

For a team member who isn’t performing, I may take a curious, compassionate approach. For a Board Director, I flip into direct, authoritative, and analytical mode.

Whoever you communicate with, anticipate questions before you go in. And if you don’t know something, just say that - no one can be expected to be able to respond immediately to every comment or request, whether it’s an emotional flashpoint or a data question you’re being presented with. The important thing is you don’t leave it at ‘I don’t know’: offer to follow up, ask a clarifying question, or propose a theory or two. No bullshit, please, everyone can smell it a mile off.

Enough with this ‘weak’ (versus, what.. Strong? Normal?) language. It’s not a binary, but about understanding your audience and using the best words or tone for the job, the same way you might be potty-mouthed with your friends but not your grandmother.

Don’t be a dick

The idea that we may use softer communication to help us get what we want usually leads to the world’s contingent of devil’s advocates popping up to ask: ‘But isn’t that a bit manipulative?’

To which I give you my third and final ‘communication’ tip, albeit one that isn’t much of a communication tip at all… drum roll please…

Just be a good person!

Really!

Nine times out of ten I speak the way I do because there’s no reason to be an arse. I like to be friendly and approachable. My day goes smoother and more stress-free as a result, and building rapport generally has a better effect than being dictatorial.

HOWEVER… you can be the loveliest, nice-as-pie person in an interaction but if you regularly go around bitching about that same colleague or throwing them under the bus behind the scenes, people catch on very quickly. And they will not want to work with you, nor for you.

For that reason, and whatever your communication style, ‘don’t be a dick’ is a good mantra to live by. All leaders I’ve admired, whatever their gender, have been authentic, approachable, and led with honesty and integrity. And the bonus? You soon realise that if you trust and respect a person, you tend not to mind when their words are a bit rattier than usual - and vice versa.

*It’s not a real book, don’t search for it.

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I’d love to know what you think on this topic. Women, do you couch your communication to ‘make your life easier’? Do you hate yourself for it or see it as a superpower - or both, depending on the day? Men, do you use this style of communication too, or are you secretly in envy of our skills? Whether your head is nodding or shaking at today’s essay, I’d love to hear your thoughts.