theAustraliancorporatelawyer
IS INCLUSION WORTH IT? Diversity in all its forms is about inclusion, whether that is for women, people of colour, religion, age, gender—the list goes on. All are measured against the means of white, male and christian. As I can speak from experience, this article will predominately talk about the diversity of women in workplaces (or lack thereof ). However, I do recognise that the lack of diversity for other people is real and needs addressing.
E
qual pay for women for equal work became law in Australia in 1969, so it is more than disappointing that the percentage of women in senior roles in Australia is still far behind that of other western countries. This lag is across all sectors including politics, corporations and board directors. Data from a study by the Workplace Gender Equality Agency (WGEA) undertaken in 2018–19 shows that while women make up half (50.2%) of the private sector workforce, they make up only 31.5% of key management positions, 26.8% of directors, 17.1% of CEOs and 14.1% of board chairs (www.wgea.gov.au/topics/women-inleadership).
When I was appointed Managing Director of Apple in 1997, it was the first major IT company in Australia and only the second Apple subsidiary to appoint a woman to the helm. However, my observations of a lack of gender diversity and diversity, in general, go much further back. My own mother, who left school at 15 and became a secretary, constantly claimed she wasn’t intelligent enough to finish school. Of course, at that time, most women left school after the intermediate (year 10) to take up a short-term career until they were married. This was the expectation placed on women from a young age. I doubt that the idea of considering women as potential leaders was in the vernacular. Born just after the end of WWII, I was extremely fortunate to have a father who considered education for girls was equally as important as education for boys. As an architect who focused on the mathematics of architecture in managing light, heat and noise in building constructions and in the community, he was always my supporter. It was a time when the white Australia policy was firmly in place, and our First Peoples were not able to vote. Our Indigenous folk did not receive the right to vote until 21 May 1962. Until then, they were not considered citizens. Women could vote but were seen primarily as homemakers for their working husbands and children. Was inclusion of interest to organisations? Not at all. Fast forward to my own schooling in a selective public high school for girls in Sydney. Students were generally encouraged to take additional foreign languages if they were doing well, and just over 50 percent of my cohort continued on to university. In comparison, at the boys’ school, almost 80 percent went on to university, even though the criteria for the school selection was identical. Combined with this disparity was the fact that out of almost 120 girls at my school, only approximately 25 completed mathematics and science at the higher levels. Girls were encouraged by the careers advisor to consider teaching and nursing as appropriate careers. I selected teaching, took the teachers’ college scholarship that was offered to me and enrolled in science. This was just a couple of years after Indigenous Australians were given the right to vote (1962) and the white Australia policy was renounced by the federal Whitlam Government in favour of a policy of multiculturalism (1973). Regardless of the significant changes occurring at the time, university students were predominantly 28
|
VOLUME 30, ISSUE 4 – SUMMER 2020
white and male. My interest and focus on science were unusual then and remain so to this day. Throughout the next 30 plus years, from 1968 to 2001, the lack of women involved in STEM (science, technology, engineering, and mathematics) subjects and, more broadly, in leadership positions became more and more apparent. Personally, I didn’t understand how girls could do so well at high school and university and yet not gain the promotions they deserved in the workplace. How is it that equal pay for equal work was passed by the federal government in the late 1960s and yet even today, this is not the norm? One only needs to look at the WGEA report each year to understand our leaders are not committed to implementing this policy. At least WGEA keeps pay equity in the spotlight. Little is done to measure the effect of those who come from ethnic and religious backgrounds or those who identify as LGBTIQ on pay or leadership positions. I am delighted that, in my career, I was able to break the mould. My own career traversed the globe through the United States, Canada and Portugal where I followed my husband’s roles and took opportunities when they appeared. I didn’t ponder on this too much as it was clear from the social norms of the day that when I had my children (in the mid-1970s), my career would become secondary in every way to my husband’s. Women could work if it didn’t interfere with ‘keeping a good home’. When I started working at Apple in 1983, it became more and more apparent to me that promotion opportunities came more readily to the men in the organisation. Not only that, I became aware that equal pay for equal work should not be assumed. In fact, if not questioned about relevant levels and pay scales, my earning potential was much lower than the men, even though I was awarded several trips overseas as a top performer. As I landed more senior positions by challenging the status quo, I was perceived to be too aggressive and advised to be less so. It is a fine line for women to be determined and achievementoriented and not be labelled aggressive. In addition, I was forever having to justify myself as a ‘woman who works’. Although many of my friends remained in part-time positions that enabled them to carry out their home duties, I was in full-time roles from the time my sons started school. My more senior roles required travel and attracted comments such as “do you cook the meals before you go?” and “you are lucky your husband lets you work”, which were uttered frequently to me by men whose wives had chosen to remain at home or were in roles that allowed them to fulfil conventional women’s work in the home. I persisted despite the sniping and in 2000, under my direction, Apple Australia won the Best Employer award. Upon stepping down from my Managing Director role at the end of 2001 after a significant bout of breast cancer, I reflected on the Best Employer award from 2000 and what it meant to me, to Apple and Australian workplaces. Boasting an engagement
