568 words (~2 min read)

A close colleague recently put a provocative post on LinkedIn. He presented two pictures of smartly dressed women, one with visible tattoos and one without, and asked his followers to comment on who is the CEO. The purpose was to highlight the “horn effect” – we may judge people negatively based on their appearance. He backs up his point with references for two studies – one of which states women with tattoos were less likely to be hired, were offered lower salaries, and rated lower on competence. He ended his post with, “So appearance is a tax. Part of it is charged by other people and their fixed idea of what a leader looks like. Part of it you add yourself every morning when you get dressed.”

Who is the CEO?

Many responses from his post selected the woman without visible tattoos. These results may have arisen because, from two images of fictional women, in an identical stance with an identical background, how can we tell? In which case, people may have been answering the easier question, “Which woman looks more like what I expect a CEO to look like?” (an example of attribute substitution). Moreover, perhaps the tattooed woman would be the more competent CEO because she would have experienced tougher selection criteria, precisely because of these biases (by analogy with the Jackie (and Jill) Robinson Effect).

Ouch!

Even though his post was not directed at me, as his tattooed female colleague, it got under my skin. I’ve been reflecting on how I’m perceived professionally, and what feedback I’ve received over the years. And, as one does in these moments, I’ve found myself taking stock of what parts of me have changed, what parts of me haven’t, and how the workplace itself has transformed. So as the world continues to evolve, what should you change to fit in?

You do you

Now, even more than ever, I don’t want to hide who I am. Not that I’ve ever been very successful at doing that. I struggled with a school uniform from the age of 11, so decades later, it’s unlikely I’ll manage it now. This “failure” may have cost me opportunities, including leadership positions, but such “What if…” games are pointless at best. Importantly, I strongly believe that as with all biases, we should gently recognise them within ourselves, without expecting others to accommodate them.

The irony is that perhaps what holds me back more than my tattoos is confidence. I’ve received this feedback from a few line managers over the years, and I feel it. When I’m confident, I don’t focus on what others know that I don’t, I share what I see that they don’t. I’m not scared of saying something out of place, or looking out of place. I’m focused on the content, refining ideas, and clarifying the purpose. And in these alive moments, I’m not questioning my appearance.

Leadership presence comes from self-ownership

We all carry biases about what leadership should look like – which may vary culturally. At the same time, we’re drawn to leaders who are comfortable in their own skin, inked or not. And for many, this foundational level of confidence grows from a vibrant environment of individuals sharing perspectives, withholding judgement, and respectfully challenging each other. This is the type of environment I aspire to create around me in my professional and personal life.