Progress isn't exactly rapid, but we are seeing signs of positive change. Photograph: Getty Images.
Show Hide image

Why gender diversity is about more than equality

A recent 12-country study of 393 companies found that women are still largely outnumbered in the non-executive director community, but found that the gender mix is improving.

Promoting diversity is not only morally positive, it makes perfect business sense. To draw on different backgrounds and experiences is to challenge the notion that one culture, behaviour, structure and practice is the right direction to take. It’s a healthy, constructive way of doing business that can deliver greater productivity and profitability

"Diversity" also takes many forms, and is never far from public scrutiny. Just recently, the World Economic Forum (WEF)’s annual meeting in Davos suffered a media outcry at the lack of women delegates, despite the forum’s best efforts to attract a diverse pool.

WEF’s purpose being to improve the state of the world by helping shape the international business agenda, it’s important that the ideas and issues as part of it are mixed - otherwise it quickly becomes a club where people think more and more alike. It’s exactly the same situation within organisations today. While short-term objectives can often be met by a group of similar people (who are naturally aligned and don’t need to be taught how to operate together), generating sustainable, long-term success requires more. Effective boards and teams need diversity for innovation and time and management to make the different opinions workable.

The gender discussions at Davos are mirrored in the Hay Group’s recent report Non-executive directors in Europe 2013, based on a 12-country annual study of 393 of Europe’s largest-quoted companies. However, while the study shows that women are still largely outnumbered in the non-executive director (NED) community, it also highlights how the gender mix is improving. In the last three years the proportion of male board directors has dropped from 87 to 80 percent. Within this, some countries are moving faster than others. Italian companies, for example, though they remain bottom of the league for gender diversity, have made comparatively great strides, moving from 94 per cent male directors last year to 89 per cent this year.

While the NED community is not responsible for running firms, they are highly influential in terms of challenging and contributing to overarching strategies and in ensuring ethical standards of conduct are met in the pursuit of corporate objectives. It’s vital, therefore, that they represent a broad range of thinking which is often acquired through a more diverse group of people.

However, while women are securing more NED roles, the study shows they still earn less than their male counterparts. Two years ago the average pay gap was seven per cent. Last year it was nine and this year it has risen to 10 per cent. How can this be? Well, NEDs are paid fees for being members of the board, and typically get extra fees for chairing or belonging to other board committees, such as audit, remuneration and nominations. Women are even more underrepresented on these committees than they are on the boards (more than half of European companies don’t have a single woman on the audit committee, and the same holds true for remuneration committees). As a result, they end up earning less than their male peers and, crucially, the committees driving much of the board agenda do not benefit from diverse viewpoints.

Gender might grab the headlines, but diversity is a far broader issue. Boards are becoming diverse in a number of ways, driven by the reality that we are all getting more and more international. Fewer directors, 66 per cent at the median, are from the same country of company listing or headquarters; a fall of three percent on last year. Countries like Switzerland, the Netherlands and the UK, which are very open to international trade, often have half the board with an international profile. We’re talking gradual change here, but this does show a movement towards an increasingly healthy combination of ethnic, cultural, educational and professional backgrounds being funnelled into the leadership, strategy and direction of organisations.

So while progress can hardly be described as rapid, and the gender pay gap still needs bridging, we are now seeing signs of change. Just as WEF is likely to take a hard look at how it attracts a wider  audience at Davos in 2015, companies need to consciously consider and examine the formation of its teams. It won’t always be plain sailing - different views naturally lead to disparity and debate. However, the potential gains in terms of scrutinising behaviour in business, challenging perceptions, curbing excess in certain sectors and encouraging wider change across companies to improve working life, reward and benefit for all, are well worth the effort.

Carl Sjostrom is the Hay Group's Regional Director, Executive Reward, Europe

Getty
Show Hide image

The decline of the north's sporting powerhouse

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Now, things are different.

On a drive between Sheffield and Barnsley, I spotted a striking painting of the Kes poster. Billy Casper’s two-fingered salute covered the wall of a once-popular pub that is now boarded up.

It is almost 50 years since the late Barry Hines wrote A Kestrel for a Knave, the novel that inspired Ken Loach’s 1969 film, and it seems that the defiant, us-against-the-world, stick-it-to-the-man Yorkshireness he commemorated still resonates here. Almost two-thirds of the people of south Yorkshire voted to leave the EU, flicking two fingers up at what they saw as a London-based establishment, detached from life beyond the capital.

But whatever happened to Billy the unlikely lad, and the myriad other northern characters who were once the stars of stage and screen? Like the pitheads that dominated Casper’s tightly knit neighbourhood, they have disappeared from the landscape. The rot set in during the 1980s, when industries were destroyed and communities collapsed, a point eloquently made in Melvyn Bragg’s excellent radio series The Matter of the North.

Yorkshire historically acted as a counterweight to the dominance of southern elites, in sport as in politics and culture. Yet today, we rarely get to hear the voices of Barnsley, Sheffield, Doncaster and Rotherham. And the Yorkshire sporting powerhouse is no more – at least, not as we once knew it.

This should be a matter of national concern. The White Rose county is, after all, the home of the world’s oldest registered football club – Sheffield FC, formed in 1857 – and the first English team to win three successive League titles, Huddersfield Town, in the mid-1920s. Hull City are now Yorkshire’s lone representative in the Premier League.

Howard Wilkinson, the manager of Leeds United when they were crowned champions in 1992, the season before the Premier League was founded, lamented the passing of a less money-obsessed era. “My dad worked at Orgreave,” he said, “the scene of Mrs Thatcher’s greatest hour, bless her. You paid for putting an axe through what is a very strong culture of community and joint responsibility.”

The best-known scene in Loach’s film shows a football match in which Mr Sugden, the PE teacher, played by Brian Glover, comically assumes the role of Bobby Charlton. It was played out on the muddy school fields of Barnsley’s run-down Athersley estate. On a visit to his alma mater a few years ago, David Bradley, who played the scrawny 15-year-old Billy, showed me the goalposts that he had swung from as a reluctant goalkeeper. “You can still see the dint in the crossbar,” he said. When I spoke to him recently, Bradley enthused about his lifelong support for Barnsley FC. “But I’ve not been to the ground over the last season and a half,” he said. “I can’t afford it.”

Bradley is not alone. Many long-standing fans have been priced out. Barnsley is only a Championship side, but for their home encounter with Newcastle last October, their fans had to pay £30 for a ticket.

The English game is rooted in the northern, working-class communities that have borne the brunt of austerity over the past six years. The top leagues – like the EU – are perceived to be out of touch and skewed in favour of the moneyed elites.

Bradley, an ardent Remainer, despaired after the Brexit vote. “They did not know what they were doing. But I can understand why. There’s still a lot of neglect, a lot of deprivation in parts of Barnsley. They feel left behind because they have been left behind.”

It is true that there has been a feel-good factor in Yorkshire following the Rio Olympics; if the county were a country, it would have finished 17th in the international medals table. Yet while millions have been invested in “podium-level athletes”, in the team games that are most relevant to the lives of most Yorkshire folk – football, cricket and rugby league – there is a clear division between sport’s elites and its grass roots. While lucrative TV deals have enriched ruling bodies and top clubs, there has been a large decrease in the number of adults playing any sport in the four years since London staged the Games.

According to figures from Sport England, there are now 67,000 fewer people in Yorkshire involved in sport than there were in 2012. In Doncaster, to take a typical post-industrial White Rose town, there has been a 13 per cent drop in participation – compared with a 0.4 per cent decline nationally.

Attendances at rugby league, the region’s “national sport”, are falling. But cricket, in theory, is thriving, with Yorkshire winning the County Championship in 2014 and 2015. Yet Joe Root, the batsman and poster boy for this renaissance, plays far more games for his country than for his county and was rested from Yorkshire’s 2016 title decider against Middlesex.

“Root’s almost not a Yorkshire player nowadays,” said Stuart Rayner, whose book The War of the White Roses chronicles the club’s fortunes between 1968 and 1986. As a fan back then, I frequently watched Geoffrey Boycott and other local stars at Headingley. My favourite was the England bowler Chris Old, a gritty, defiant, unsung anti-hero in the Billy Casper mould.

When Old made his debut, 13 of the 17-strong Yorkshire squad were registered as working-class professionals. Half a century later, three of the five Yorkshiremen selec­ted for the last Ashes series – Root, Jonny Bairstow and Gary Ballance – were privately educated. “The game of cricket now is played in public schools,” Old told me. “Top players are getting huge amounts of money, but the grass-roots game doesn’t seem to have benefited in any way.”

“In ten years’ time you won’t get a Joe Root,” Rayner said. “If you haven’t seen these top Yorkshire cricketers playing in your backyard and you haven’t got Sky, it will be difficult to get the whole cricket bug. So where is the next generation of Roots going to come from?” Or the next generation of Jessica Ennis-Hills? Three years ago, the Sheffield stadium where she trained and first discovered athletics was closed after cuts to local services.

This article first appeared in the 19 January 2017 issue of the New Statesman, The Trump era