Opinion: Wall Street’s terrible treatment of women goes far beyond mere ‘bro talk’
After reading the New York Times essay “How Wall Street Bro Talk Keeps Women Down,” I was eager to read Sam Polk’s memoir “For the Love of Money.” I felt sure he must have laid bare the Wall Street culture that has played at least some role in keeping women to a fraction of the investment industry — where they comprise between just 2% and 14% of the money-management landscape, depending on the estimate, asset class, and functions included.
Polk asserts in his essay that “’Bro Talk’ produces a force field of disrespect and exclusions that makes it incredibly difficult for women to ascend the Wall Street ladder.” In his book, however, he relates only a few uncomfortable sexually explicit exchanges, during which he remains silent, and appears unaware of both the magnitude of bias facing women on Wall Street and the privilege he comparatively enjoys.
Polk admits he was hired in part due to the right school (Columbia), right sport (wrestling) paradigm. But when he gained weight during his CSFB internship, no one looked askance at his midriff, inquired when he was planning to start taking time off, or — true story — asked if he had simply been overeating or whether congratulations were in order. For many women, the Jennifer Aniston-esque, mommy-track rumors would have commenced after the first five pounds.
During that same internship, Polk, dumped by his girlfriend, requests and receives a day off, interestingly asking permission from the “one very junior female trader” on his desk at the time. Nearly every women who has worked in this industry can tell you about a time they came back to work too soon after illness, surgery or childbirth or other struggles so as not to appear weak in front of their peers. I even once paused during a food-poisoning-laced internal presentation to scurry to the restroom, barf, and return within minutes to project my own aura of invincibility.
God forbid a woman gets labeled “sensitive,” which can be the death knell for promotions, raises and plum assignments. Accusations of hypersensitivity re often used to marginalize real emotions or complaints one might have about a job.
What about when Polk laments his income-to-expenses ratio to his boss at Bank of America? I know a woman who did that and was offered $200 for a “visit to the parking lot” — a far cry from the “if you ever really need money – like if you ever need a hundred thousand dollars — just call me” offer Polk relates to readers of his book. And it ignores the issue of whether Polk was making the same amount as or more than his scant female peers, another real issue that isn’t raised in the book.
Or when after just roughly 30 days of trading, Polk questions his boss about a decision to bring in a supervising senior trader? He is never told he is being aggressive, unlike so many women in the industry I know who push for career growth and opportunities, nor is he later penalized for not being a team player.
Oh, and no one states that he got a premature trading assignment as either a “token guy” or because he is sleeping with the boss.
Indeed, these examples and others should show us it’s not necessarily the words that hurt us. Instead, it’s the sticks-and-stones cultural penalties and biases that damage, curtail and ultimately can end women’s charge up the Wall Street ladder.
Does “bro talk” drive off some potential industry participants? Absolutely. Is it the reason that there aren’t more women in the investment industry? Likely not. In fact, when I asked each woman profiled in my book about their thoughts on Wall Street’s male-dominated culture, almost to a woman they replied that they simply ignored it, unless of course it directly impacted their career or earnings.
Female execs have this surprising thing in common(2:28)
What do female executives have in common? According to one study, 94% played a sport in high school and 61% said sports helped them succeed. Tennis star Serena Williams and Olympic gold medalist Missy Franklin talk about the importance of sports.
What Polk describes is mostly lingering objectification in a post-politically correct era of “please watch these quarterly sexual harassment videos” which, while certainly not optimal, is often merely fodder for “can you believe that jerk” comments heard in the women’s bathroom or over drinks.
Over my 18-plus years in the industry, I’ve seen the best and the worst in my investment peers. I’ve chosen to focus on and invest in the best. I try to remember that for all the horror stories out there, these issues, while numerous, aren’t universal. I also hear of management teams and investors who are pushing for gender parity and diverse portfolios, and industry players who are working to improve job flexibility, corporate culture, maternity, paternity, work-life balance and child care options for both sexes. And there are others who, like Polk, have now put a face on the issue, however belatedly, and have determined that their daughters at least deserve better.
But even now, too many Wall Street memoirs tell me we still have a lot more on our hands than a war on words.
After reading the New York Times essay “How Wall Street Bro Talk Keeps Women Down,” I was eager to read Sam Polk’s memoir “For the Love of Money.” I felt sure he must have laid bare the Wall Street culture that has played at least some role in keeping women to a fraction of the investment industry — where they comprise between just 2% and 14% of the money-management landscape, depending on the estimate, asset class, and functions included.
Polk asserts in his essay that “’Bro Talk’ produces a force field of disrespect and exclusions that makes it incredibly difficult for women to ascend the Wall Street ladder.” In his book, however, he relates only a few uncomfortable sexually explicit exchanges, during which he remains silent, and appears unaware of both the magnitude of bias facing women on Wall Street and the privilege he comparatively enjoys.
Polk admits he was hired in part due to the right school (Columbia), right sport (wrestling) paradigm. But when he gained weight during his CSFB internship, no one looked askance at his midriff, inquired when he was planning to start taking time off, or — true story — asked if he had simply been overeating or whether congratulations were in order. For many women, the Jennifer Aniston-esque, mommy-track rumors would have commenced after the first five pounds.
During that same internship, Polk, dumped by his girlfriend, requests and receives a day off, interestingly asking permission from the “one very junior female trader” on his desk at the time. Nearly every women who has worked in this industry can tell you about a time they came back to work too soon after illness, surgery or childbirth or other struggles so as not to appear weak in front of their peers. I even once paused during a food-poisoning-laced internal presentation to scurry to the restroom, barf, and return within minutes to project my own aura of invincibility.
God forbid a woman gets labeled “sensitive,” which can be the death knell for promotions, raises and plum assignments. Accusations of hypersensitivity re often used to marginalize real emotions or complaints one might have about a job.
What about when Polk laments his income-to-expenses ratio to his boss at Bank of America? I know a woman who did that and was offered $200 for a “visit to the parking lot” — a far cry from the “if you ever really need money – like if you ever need a hundred thousand dollars — just call me” offer Polk relates to readers of his book. And it ignores the issue of whether Polk was making the same amount as or more than his scant female peers, another real issue that isn’t raised in the book.
Or when after just roughly 30 days of trading, Polk questions his boss about a decision to bring in a supervising senior trader? He is never told he is being aggressive, unlike so many women in the industry I know who push for career growth and opportunities, nor is he later penalized for not being a team player.
Oh, and no one states that he got a premature trading assignment as either a “token guy” or because he is sleeping with the boss.
Indeed, these examples and others should show us it’s not necessarily the words that hurt us. Instead, it’s the sticks-and-stones cultural penalties and biases that damage, curtail and ultimately can end women’s charge up the Wall Street ladder.
Does “bro talk” drive off some potential industry participants? Absolutely. Is it the reason that there aren’t more women in the investment industry? Likely not. In fact, when I asked each woman profiled in my book about their thoughts on Wall Street’s male-dominated culture, almost to a woman they replied that they simply ignored it, unless of course it directly impacted their career or earnings.
Female execs have this surprising thing in common(2:28)
What do female executives have in common? According to one study, 94% played a sport in high school and 61% said sports helped them succeed. Tennis star Serena Williams and Olympic gold medalist Missy Franklin talk about the importance of sports.
What Polk describes is mostly lingering objectification in a post-politically correct era of “please watch these quarterly sexual harassment videos” which, while certainly not optimal, is often merely fodder for “can you believe that jerk” comments heard in the women’s bathroom or over drinks.
Over my 18-plus years in the industry, I’ve seen the best and the worst in my investment peers. I’ve chosen to focus on and invest in the best. I try to remember that for all the horror stories out there, these issues, while numerous, aren’t universal. I also hear of management teams and investors who are pushing for gender parity and diverse portfolios, and industry players who are working to improve job flexibility, corporate culture, maternity, paternity, work-life balance and child care options for both sexes. And there are others who, like Polk, have now put a face on the issue, however belatedly, and have determined that their daughters at least deserve better.
But even now, too many Wall Street memoirs tell me we still have a lot more on our hands than a war on words.
