My sister could do that

Longing for Ben Bright ... The unconscious put-down of women professionals persists ... Surprise that they can be competent ... A partner (female) blogs from within a global law shop ... Dorothy Says ...

Remember Torah Bright, the Olympic snowboarder?

She had crashed in her first jump in the halfpipe at the 2010 Winter Olympics, and had one more chance to win a medal.

The halfpipe involves risking one's life to jump, on a snowboard at high speed, into the air, twist and turn quite a lot, and then land, hopefully on the board.

The jump she had chosen had never before been executed by a girl in a competition.

Australia held its breath.

The jump was perfect. She medalled - goldenly.

Torah’s coach, her brother, Ben, was interviewed afterwards:

"I said to her [after she had fallen in the first run]: 'What will be, will be. I have supreme confidence in you to do it', and she did."

I longed for Ben Bright at a seminar I attended recently when a male presenter, a partner in a medium sized, national law firm, was performing a role play with a colleague.

The purpose of the role play was for him to demonstrate to us how he would resolve an apparently intractable problem with nothing but the potency of his negotiating skills.

The colleague, in role, offered to do something to sort the problem out. The presenter scoffed at the paltriness of the offer.

"My sister could do that," he said.

This was not a Ben Bright speaking admiringly of his champion sister. No - our presenter meant that the action offered was so preposterously easy, so worthless, that even his sister - a person none of us know anything about, except that she is his sister - could do it.

Strangely, even though, of the 30 people in the audience, 17 were probably someone's sister, he was comfortable in the knowledge that he had successfully communicated how paltry an offer it was.

He was right: we knew exactly what he meant. Some of the sisters even chuckled, because of the amusing way he said it.

Think about what a sister is: similar age, similar genetic makeup, only one difference to make what is eminently possible for the brother, almost impossible for the sister.

If I had been the presenter and I had said "my brother could do that" the audience would have been a little confused.

Whispered conversations would have been, "What does she mean? Is there something wrong with her brother?"*

In a meeting last week, a man was explaining to us how he had got a particular piece of work done on a project. "We hired consultants to do that." he said. "They were ladies, but they had good contacts in the area." He paused, and then reflected, perhaps for my benefit, but with surprise in his tone, "They did a good job."

I smile faintly to hide an inner sigh. I do not wish to offend with an open demonstration of the rabid feminist within, because there lies the way to exclusion from professional life.

It has been more than a 100 years since the bluestockings caused so much irritation in London. 

Yet, now the assumption inherent in many conversations, even conversations in a professional context with female professionals present, is that a woman is less capable, and that if she does the job men do, it is a surprise when she does it well.

That's why a partner in a law firm who is a woman is not merely a partner; she is a female partner, and a female orthopaedic surgeon is described as "a woman but she's very good".

Wouldn’t it be terrific if more brothers thought like Ben Bright.

* Those in the know would have whispered back, "No, he is dead".