The full story of Ellen Pao's experiences leading up to her gender discrimination lawsuit against Silicon Valley venture capital firm Kleiner Perkins Caufield & Byers.
What I liked: It was an inspiring story to read, one that she turned down millions of dollars in settlements to be able to share, one that filled me with anger and added fuel to the fire that is my work and hopes of improving diversity and inclusion as a female working in the tech industry. More and more people are stepping forward and sharing their stories in her wake. These discriminatory patterns and practices are pervasive across tech and finance industries, and hopefully as more voices come forward, we can work together to find viable solutions.
What I didn't like as much: some parts of her story, before things took a turn for the worst while working at Kleiner, sounded impossibly idyllic. The first part of her story sounded a bit like an over-optimistic college essay: "Most of the time there was harmony in Maplewood, and my sisters and I flourished there together." Even when her father dies, she doesn't dwell on it much, only devoting a quick paragraph to how it helped her "become driven to succeed in life. [...] confronted with mortality, you live the rest of your life aware of the void." I suppose she wanted to only give us a cursory glance of where she grew up and came from, to showcase how her parents had raised her to believe in a meritocratic world where working hard and keeping your head down equaled success, an existence with a sort of blissful ignorance. Still, I wish that there could have been more about Ellen.
Some of my favorite excerpts from her work:
"...What I saw as a venture capitalist made me realize that much of the talk about commitment to diversity and inclusion was just talk. In several years of working 24/ 7, full steam ahead, only to see more-junior men promoted ahead of other qualified women and me, and to be told that women should feel “flattered” when hit on by colleagues, and to be yelled at when asking for equal pay, and to see not one single Black or Latinx candidate considered for partner—I realized that the system isn’t fair. You can’t always get ahead by working hard if you’re not part of the “in” crowd. You will be ostracized no matter how smart you are, how bone-crushingly hard you work, how much money you make for the firm, or even how many times they insist they run a meritocracy. Year after year, we hear the same empty promises about inclusion, and year after year we see the same pitiful results. The culture, I began to realize, is designed to keep out people who aren’t white men."
"I have degrees in electrical engineering from Princeton and in law and business from Harvard. I’ve held high-powered jobs and worked hard every day of my life. Very few obstacles have proved insurmountable. And yet I found Silicon Valley’s venture capital community impenetrable and discriminatory."
"No doubt, we have it far better than our grandparents did—more legal protections, greater representation. Often today the bias is just subtler, the attitudes more hidden, the rationalization more nuanced. Exclusion shows up in forms that are harder to prove but continue to keep workplaces homogenous. It’s often so subtle that those in power find it hard to see, harder to acknowledge, and impossible to fix, in spite of all the stories, the data, and the research making it clear that the problem is very real."
"If you had the opportunity to have a bevy of workers who were overeducated, underpaid, and well experienced, that you could dump all the menial tasks you didn’t want to do on, that you could get to clean up all the problems, and that you could create a second class out of, wouldn’t you want them to stay?”
"The system is designed to keep us out. These are rooms full of white heterosexual men who want to keep acting like rooms full of white heterosexual men, and so either they continue to do so, creating a squirm-inducing experience for the rest of us, or they shut down when people of color or women enter the room and resent having to change their behavior. We are either silenced or we are seen as buzzkills. We are either left out of the social network that leads to power—the strip clubs and the steak dinners and the all-male ski trips—and so we don’t fit in, or our presence leads to changes in the way things are done, and that causes anger, which means we still don’t fit in. If you talk, you talk too much. If you don’t talk, you’re too quiet. You don’t own the room. If you want to protect your work, you’re not a team player. Your elbows are too sharp. You’re too aggressive. If you don’t protect your work, you should be leaning in. If you don’t negotiate, you’re underpaid. If you do negotiate, you’re complaining. If you want a promotion, you’re overreaching. If you don’t ask for a promotion, you get assigned all the unwanted tasks. The same goes when asking for a raise. There is no way to win, and you’re subject to constant gaslighting. When you stand up for yourself, there are fifteen reasons why you don’t deserve what you’re asking for. You’re whining. You don’t appreciate what you have. There is this steady drumbeat of: We let you in here even though you don’t belong! Be grateful. Just drop it."
"People were set up to succeed or fail largely as a result of their social standing—and their social standing seemed to have an awful lot to do with whether they liked to golf, ski, and drink good scotch. There was no pathway to success that anyone else could follow, particularly not women or people of color; requirements and standards changed constantly. Women and underrepresented people of color were systematically kept out of the rooms where decisions were made and routinely made to feel as if they didn’t belong. As I learned firsthand, many of these issues don’t rise to the level of criminally or legally punishable behavior, but that doesn’t mean they’re not toxic."
"I felt confident that if anyone asked, I could suggest how to dismantle this Catch-22–based system, how to create an inclusive workplace, how to make it a real family. I would say that there has to be a path to victory for every kind of person, not just guys who like golf and skiing and good scotch, who all went to the same schools. I would say that you do business during business hours, you listen to each other, and you find ways to work as a team rather than as cutthroat competitors; you don’t get rewarded for screwing over other people, especially the quietest or least connected people. And I would say that, at the bare minimum, when you have a man who is behaving in a predatory, manipulative fashion toward multiple women in your “family,” and you’re hearing worrisome things about him over the course of several years, by God, you don’t tolerate it."