Olivia: Most people think the biggest barrier to women's success is a glass ceiling. But what if the real problem isn't a ceiling at all, but a 'sticky floor' we're all standing on without even realizing it? Jackson: A sticky floor. I like that. It’s less about a dramatic shattering moment and more about the quiet, everyday struggle of just trying to lift your feet. What’s sticking us to the ground? Olivia: That 'sticky floor' is the central idea in Dr. Karen Morley's book, Beat Gender Bias. She argues it’s the invisible, unconscious biases that keep people, especially women, from advancing. Jackson: Dr. Karen Morley... right, she's an organizational psychologist, isn't she? I heard this book is less about abstract theory and more of a practical toolkit for leaders. It’s gotten some really interesting, if mixed, reactions from readers because of how direct it is. Olivia: Exactly. She calls her strategies 'Bias Busters,' and they are incredibly direct. But what makes the book so powerful is that her motivation is deeply personal. It all starts with a story from when she was six years old. Jackson: Six years old? What could possibly happen to a six-year-old that leads to a book on corporate bias? Olivia: It wasn't about gender. It was about being left-handed.

Jackson: Left-handed? Come on, how is that related to gender bias in a global corporation? Olivia: It’s the perfect micro-example of how bias works. Morley describes being in first grade, one of four left-handed students in her class. Every single week, on their writing tests, the four of them would get the lowest scores. Their handwriting was deemed messy, inferior. Jackson: Oh man, I can just picture that. The smudged ink, the awkward angle of the paper... Olivia: Precisely. And the teacher offered no encouragement, no special tools, just constant criticism. The feedback wasn't about their effort or the content of their writing; it was about the fundamental 'wrongness' of their handedness. Morley says she felt constrained and devalued for something she couldn't change. Jackson: That's heartbreaking for a kid. You’re just trying to learn and you’re being told the very way you exist is flawed. So that feeling of being 'wrong' for something you can't change... that's the seed of this whole book? Olivia: That’s the emotional core of it. Because that same mental mechanism is what plays out in boardrooms every day. Morley uses this to introduce us to two powerful psychological concepts. The first is Affinity Bias. Our brains are wired to like and trust people who are like us. The right-handed teacher saw the right-handed kids as the norm, the 'correct' way. Jackson: And the lefties were the 'other.' They didn't fit the mold. Olivia: Exactly. And that’s amplified by the second concept: Confirmation Bias. Once the teacher had the idea that 'left-handed equals messy,' she unconsciously looked for evidence to prove it. Every smudge, every slanted letter confirmed her initial belief. She wasn't seeing the students' potential; she was seeing what she expected to see. Jackson: Okay, I get it now. The left-handed story is a perfect, simple analogy. It’s not about malice, it’s about mental shortcuts. But a first-grade teacher is one thing. Are we really saying that senior executives, people managing billion-dollar budgets, are operating with that same simple bias? Just swapping 'left-handed' for 'female'? Olivia: They absolutely are, and often without a clue that they're doing it. The book is full of examples. A woman gets passed over for a promotion and is given vague feedback like she needs to be 'more assertive.' The man who gets the job? He's praised for his 'natural leadership abilities.' The hiring manager is just confirming his unconscious belief that leaders look and sound a certain way—a way that has historically been male. Jackson: So the 'sticky floor' is made of all these little, unconscious moments of affinity and confirmation bias, all layered on top of each other over years. Olivia: Yes. And when that bias scales up from one-on-one decisions to an entire organizational system, it creates what Morley calls a 'masculine contest culture.' It's not just about individual bad decisions anymore; it's about the entire environment becoming a toxic playground.

Jackson: A 'masculine contest culture.' That sounds intense. What does that actually look like in practice? It sounds like something out of a 1980s movie. Olivia: It can feel like that. Morley shares this absolutely stunning story from a female executive she coached. This woman was the Asia Pacific CEO for a global consulting firm. She was a top performer, consistently delivering incredible growth, hitting all her numbers. But when she attended the quarterly global executive meetings, she was effectively invisible. Jackson: Invisible? A CEO? How? Olivia: The meetings were dominated by what she called a 'bro culture.' The male executives would socialize their agendas and make decisions outside the formal meetings—at breakfast, during breaks, even, she noted, at the urinals. She was excluded from the real conversations where the power was. Jackson: That is infuriating. She's delivering top results and still has to fight just to be heard? It's like a high school clique, but with billions of dollars at stake. Olivia: It gets worse. When she did manage to speak, her expertise on her own region was often dismissed. Male colleagues would pontificate on topics they knew nothing about, but she would be met with patronizing remarks or impatience. The culture celebrated late-night drinking and aggressive, dominant behavior. There were no consequences for the men who showed up hungover, but she had to be perfect at all times. Jackson: Wow. So her competence didn't matter because she didn't fit the cultural mold. She didn't play the game their way. Olivia: And this is where we hit the core dilemma for so many women in leadership, what Morley calls the 'damned if you do, doomed if you don't' double bind. Society, and by extension corporate culture, has these unwritten rules. Men are expected to be 'agentic'—assertive, competitive, ambitious. Women are expected to be 'communal'—caring, empathetic, collaborative. Jackson: Right, and a leader is supposed to be agentic. So a woman has to act like a man to get ahead. Olivia: But when she does, she gets penalized for violating her expected communal role! If she's assertive, she's called 'abrasive' or 'difficult.' If she's ambitious, she's 'ruthless.' But if she leans into the communal traits and is collaborative and empathetic, she's seen as 'too soft' and not a 'real leader.' She can't win. Jackson: It’s like being told to be a shark, but also a dolphin, at the same time. And you’ll be criticized for not being enough of either. Olivia: That’s a perfect analogy. The female CEO in the story was trapped. She couldn't win by being competent, and she couldn't win by playing their game. The system was designed to keep her out. Jackson: Okay, this is all feeling a bit bleak. If the bias is this deep and the cultures are this toxic, what can anyone actually do about it? Is the book just a diagnosis of the problem, or is there a prescription? Olivia: There is absolutely a prescription. And it’s not about asking women to be better sharks or dolphins. It’s about changing the water in the tank. It’s about moving from being a bystander to these toxic dynamics to becoming what Morley calls a Champion.

Jackson: A Champion. I like the sound of that. It’s active. It’s powerful. But it also sounds like a big title. Do you have to be a CEO to be a Champion? Olivia: Not at all, but the book gives a fantastic example of a CEO who became one. His name is Nick Marinelli, and he was the CEO of Fulton Hogan Australia, a massive infrastructure and construction company. We're talking about a very traditionally male-dominated industry. Jackson: Right. Hard hats and steel-toed boots. Not the first place you'd expect to find a champion for gender balance. Olivia: And that’s what makes his story so compelling. Marinelli's motivation came from his own experience of feeling like an outsider. Early in his career, he was a builder's laborer, and he felt a sense of inferiority around the 'educated' people on site. That feeling of being 'less-than' stuck with him. Jackson: So he had his own 'left-handed' moment. He knew what it felt like to be on the outside looking in. Olivia: Exactly. Years later, as a senior leader at Fulton Hogan, he attended a workshop for the company's female engineering graduates. And he was floored by what he heard. First, he found out some of their own managers didn't support them attending the workshop. Then, he heard a story from one young woman who was discouraged because the company-issued safety wear, the PPE, didn't come in women's sizes. It was all designed for men. Jackson: Wow. So it started with something as simple as safety vests? It wasn't some massive, multi-million dollar initiative? Olivia: That’s the point of being a Champion! It’s about paying attention to the real, lived experiences of your people. For that young woman, an ill-fitting vest wasn't just uncomfortable; it was a daily, physical reminder that she didn't belong. It made her stand out. Jackson: So what did Marinelli do? Olivia: He didn't just delegate it to HR. He got personally involved. He realized that to make real change, diversity couldn't be a separate, 'nice-to-have' program. It had to be embedded in the core business strategy. He famously said, "People have to be able to say why we’re doing this. If it’s a part of the strategy, it makes sense to them." Jackson: That’s a brilliant insight. It stops being about 'political correctness' and starts being about business success. You’re not recruiting from 100% of the talent pool if your culture only works for 50% of them. Olivia: And the results were tangible. Five years before he started this work, there were zero women regional finalists at their annual awards. By 2019, about a third of the nominees were women, and women won almost all of the regional 'Rising Star' awards. He changed the culture by making inclusion a strategic priority, not just an HR initiative.

Jackson: So when you put it all together, it seems the book's message is that bias isn't a flaw we can just train away. It's the default setting. And changing it requires a conscious, deliberate, and strategic override. Olivia: Exactly. It's not about being 'good' or 'bad.' Morley, drawing on the work of psychologist Dolly Chugh, would say it's about being 'goodish'—constantly learning, noticing your own biases, and correcting course. The real work isn't just spotting bias in others; it's about building a culture where everyone, especially leaders, becomes a Champion for inclusion. It's about leaving a legacy, not just hitting a quota. Jackson: That feels so much more empowering. It’s not about shame or blame; it’s about building something better. So for anyone listening, what's one small 'Champion' action they could take this week? Olivia: Morley offers a lot of these 'Bias Busters.' A simple but powerful one is to notice who gets credit for ideas in your next meeting. If you see a case of 'hepeating'—a term for when a man repeats a woman's idea and gets all the credit—find a way to gently redirect the conversation. Jackson: How would you even do that without causing a scene? Olivia: It can be very subtle. Something like, 'Thanks, John. That's a great point and it builds on what Sarah was saying earlier. Sarah, could you expand on your original thought?' It’s a small act of what's called micro-sponsorship. You're using your voice to amplify someone else's. Jackson: I love that. A small, practical 'Bias Buster.' It’s something anyone can do. We'd love to hear your own stories of being a champion or seeing one in action. Find us on our socials and share your experience. Olivia: This is Aibrary, signing off.