It’s Not Women—It’s the Gatekeepers

Women are leaning out.

At least, that’s what the reporter on Bloomberg Business said in her news coverage of the new Women in the Workplace report published by LeanIn.org. I stumbled upon the video during my morning scroll through TikTok and as she said “They’re deciding they don’t want to be promoted because it doesn’t seem worth it,” a sleeper agent of female rage burst forth from me with such vigor I briefly forgot my own name. 

And if you read that as dramatic, some men I’ve worked with would say the same.

While my honest reaction was rage, a close second was the one I tried to put to bed again and again: exhaustion. I joined the workforce in a sort of golden age for women in the workplace. We were nearing the end of the second Obama term, Hillary was the ostensible frontrunner for the next president, and I was high on some Dove “Run Like a Girl” campaign hopium that our country was finally headed toward a golden age of equality. The ten years since then has been a depressing, albeit eye opening, rollback of that progress. If there is one truth I have learned, it is this: This isn’t about women losing ambition—it’s about women losing faith in a system that still depends on male gatekeepers who aren’t showing up for us.

What the Report Shows — And What It Really Means

The 2025 Women in the Workplace report makes one thing unmistakably clear: women aren’t suddenly less ambitious, they’re receiving less support from a system still controlled by male gatekeepers. 

This year, women reported lower interest in promotion (80% vs. 86% of men) but the report shows that when women receive the same sponsorship and manager support as men, the “ambition” gap disappears. Before I say the next part, I must preface with this information: U.S. women are outpacing men in college completion, across every major racial and ethnic group, by a 10% margin, and women under 30 are more interested in being promoted than their male counterparts in entry level roles. However, entry-level women are promoted far less often (30% vs. 43% of men) and are dramatically less likely to have a sponsor, especially the senior-level sponsors who open doors—31% of entry-level women compared to 45% of men, and women are half as likely to have multiple or senior sponsors.

This means the real issue is access.

Even senior women receive less basic career support from managers than senior men do. These disparities persist while only about half of companies still prioritize women’s advancement, and many have cut back women-focused programs and the flexible work arrangements that disproportionately help women succeed.

Meanwhile, the report underscores how bias, structure, and leadership perceptions compound the problem. Women working remotely, especially entry-level women, are significantly less likely to be promoted or sponsored, while men see no such penalty, confirming a flexibility stigma applied unevenly by gender. And despite women holding only 29% (!) of C-suite roles, a striking 79% of senior men think women are already well represented in leadership. 

What?

That disconnect matters: people who don’t see inequity rarely act to change it. The report doesn’t point to a decline in women’s effort, talent, or commitment—women remain just as motivated as men—it points to a decline in organizational commitment and a persistent failure of male allies to use their influence, sponsorship, and decision-making power to advance women.

Phew, lots of data. Let’s get personal.

While I’ve certainly come across my fair share of *difficult* male CEOs at this point, the real bummer has been in the failure of so-called male allies. I once had a male colleague at a parallel level, despite my objective qualifications stacking much higher than his, who fancied himself an ally. Yet when he was offered unique projects that crossed into my vertical, a field he had no prior experience in, or when he was offered advancement over me despite demonstrating a total lack of willingness to take on new responsibilities, he never once raised the alarm bell.

Remember: allyship is a flag that’s only fun to wave when you don’t actually have to go to battle for that banner.

Where my shortcomings in a project were seen as failings, his were seen as valiant swings that should be celebrated for even trying. Where I was too soft on my direct reports, he was gentle and understanding. Where I was too mean when I tried to press a point, he was passionate. When I was effective, it was only because I had help. When his projects barely passed the finish line after everyone picked up the slack for his messy leadership, he was a visionary who empowered the teams to own their own verticals. At some point it finally clicked for me and I stopped trying the fight for myself. There was no point in me trying to point out the double standards, the double standards were the point.

I could draw upon dozens of similar experiences across the decade of my career so far. The theme is always the same: men are given opportunities by other men, and then they close the door right behind them.

The Glass Ceiling Isn’t Real

The words and metaphors we use to make concrete these abstract concepts matter. When I was in college I had several professors—all women I might add—who would tell me that women in the workforce were so close to breaking the glass ceiling; this invisible barrier stopping women and all other minorities from breaking through into the highest levels of leadership. To me, the message was clear: you are facing an uphill battle, but if you’re just a little bit better on paper than your male peers, you will break through the glass ceiling and soar to the upper echelons of corporate leadership because no one will deny your accolades.

What I have come to learn is that there is no glass ceiling, because the barrier is not invisible at all. The barrier is a conference table, and the work of women and other minorities is pushed under the table, constantly holding the work aloft but never being offered a seat as conversations are had about us and decisions are made without us. Anyone sitting at that conference table would only need to grab a chair and invite us to sit, because history shows that when we bring our own chairs it is used as evidence of our unruliness and and our lack of understanding the reason we weren’t invited in the first place.

In the same vein, it is not an accurate metaphor to say that women are “leaning out.” We have been pushed out. We have been worn out. We’ve been left out. Now the only autonomy we have remaining is to proclaim “I didn’t want it anyway.” At some point we have to stop asking women what they have done to outpace their male peers and instead turn the questions to the men, “what have you actually done to meaningfully advance those around you who are not afforded the same opportunities?” Evidence would indicate that time is now. 

The Bottom of a Broken Rung

If you’re in power and you’re not sponsoring women, you are part of the reason the numbers are going backwards. If you are in power and you do not believe that the advancement of women should be a priority for your company, you are part of the reason we cannot break through. If you are in power and have not looked around the room to see how many people do not look like you or come from a different background than you, you are afraid of challenge, and you are part of the problem. 

Women haven’t stalled—companies have. Allies have. Women have proven for the better part of a century just how capable they are. The question isn’t whether women want to advance; the question is whether men want to let them.