The Elephant In Our Room

By Lori Niles-Hofmann


I never censor myself on my blog. Mostly because when I went independent, I was so relieved to run about the interwebz without a leash (Pro Tip: If your employer wants to own or control what you post on LinkedIn, it is time to swipe left and move on). Still, this article has been sitting on my desktop for over a month and the idea of pressing “Publish” is daunting. I do not want to be the face of this issue, but we all need to talk about it.

There is a disparity between men and women in leadership in our industry. Worse, this gap is widening, which is sobering news. I hear from women on a regular basis about this topic and as I listen to their frustrations, there are so many similarities. This leads me to believe there are collective things we can change together.

Side note: I am well-aware I am speaking from a place of privilege as a white hetero female, raised with access to good education. But it is the only experience I have. I hope other voices will come forward.

Firstly, this is not an “us vs them” exercise. I am thankful to the many men in my network who have helped augment my work and coach me, and other females, along the way. I genuinely believe this is a time when we need to collaborate to reach parity and why I get twitchy about female-only initiatives. Male-only institutions got us into this debacle so let us not exclude. 

So, what are some of the barriers? Well, one of the first observations is most venture capitalists are male. This is where the money, and therefore power, is. I have been sat in front of VCs several times and mostly as the only female. I am not suggesting all VCs are sexist assholes, but in those rooms, I have seen great ideas simply fizzle out for a lack of appreciation. It is human nature to gravitate towards solutions confirming our own biases and experiences.

Some VCs expect diversity (great!) so companies know they have better chances for funding if they have a few token women hanging about (not so great). This hit my naive self like a punch to the gut in my hotel room one evening. I scrolled through my Instagram feed and saw photos from a fancy dinner. Unbeknownst to me, the men I had pitched with that afternoon were celebrating. When I asked why I had not been invited, the answer was: it simply did not occur to them. And I believe it. I was flown in for one purpose. And whilst no one likes more than me to be tucked into bed before 9PM, I also missed access to the highly valuable deeper conversations, networking and decision-making.

Other times profit is placed before equality. Such is the case with Hibob, an Israeli HRIS start-up.  According to an investigation by Haaretz News, “four former female Hibob employees are alleging they were the victims of sexual harassment by the company’s chief revenue officer, M. All four said they were subject to verbal harassment by M. and two said they were touched improperly – one woman said that in one instance M. put his hand on her crotch”. All four women left Hibob, the CRO stayed, and little action was taken by leadership at the company. None of this deterred VCs and Hibob recently raised $70 Million in their last funding round. Bonus points? Their DiversityQ functionality is marketed as a tool to tackle the problem of underreported workplace sexual harassment. Ironic.

Diversity is being invited to the party; Inclusion is being asked to dance. Or even better, as Daniel Juday puts it: Inclusion is being a member of the party-planning committee. That VC experience and others are why I advise women to carefully consider roles where you are “the only”. Because we have been overlooked so often, when we are included, we are eager. For example, the last week of January is traditionally when us gals get a gajillion requests to be on panels or give unpaid webinars for International Women’s Day. Often, these are companies with predominantly male leadership and boards. Hint: It is not allyship to ask women to perform free labour for your virtue signalling.  I politely turn down these requests, but I am at a point in my career when I can. I want others to get to the same position. 

There are other ways we can collectively hold ourselves accountable. In an industry like L&D, there are lots of start-ups elbowing their way to the market. Unfortunately, investments are made in the technology and sales, and HR departments are perceived as a luxury. This can breed toxic culture because there is no oversight or accountability for bad behaviour. It is an open secret which vendors have terrible D&I track records. A quick look at Glassdoor.com (once you get past the company planted rave reviews to counter bad PR), you can see who is dodgy. 

One such example was the 2019 debacle at DataCamp, a digital library catering to data scientists with nearly 4 million users. Long story short, it involves witnessed sexual misconduct, a cover-up, and a bunch of other sordid details. Even when the situation was brought to light, many prominent industry leaders continued to do business with DataCamp. It was not until other employees and content contributors stood up that real action was taken.  

Finally, when I speak to men about being a woman in EdTech, many do not know what happens behind the scenes. There is a good reason: The Non-Disparagement Clause. When something inappropriate happens in a workplace (again, lacking an HR department), a rent-a-lawyer chases you to sign an NDC before you are paid salary owing. This means you can never speak about the incident or criticize the company lest you be sued. The culprit gets sent to the naughty step by way of sensitivity training but keeps his job. You are left scrambling for employment and a glaring hole on your CV.

I have signed an NDC on two occasions. Once early in my career when I was not in a financial position to decline and I had no power. The second was later and whilst morally I did not want to sign, I needed distance as fast as possible (it was that bad). I would love to see our industry come together to support people in an NDC situation either financially, or to quickly network them into another role. In the meantime, if you are in this situation, ensure the NDC goes BOTH ways. Oh, and call me for drinks.

There is a lot more I could write on the topic, but for now, I want to hear your opinions. Other industries have seen the downstream effects of homogeneous teams: Crash test dummies used to be the size of the average male, putting female passengers at risk; Google voice recognition is 70% more accurate with male voices; and even the average smartphone is designed for a larger male hand. Imagine our own blind spots for our diverse consumers if we are not inclusive ourselves?