The Un-Importance of Being Liked at Work

Reading this—and really considering my own professional behavior—I realized that I'm pretty consumed with being liked and likeable. I navigate my day-to-day with others in mind. I pipe down when I think I could be perceived as too forceful, I don't ask for things that might make others feel less than comfortable, and I constantly make allowances for things I shouldn't accept. 

What's Wrong With Being Likeable?

There's nothing wrong with being likeable. I want to make that much clear. There's nothing wrong with being pleasant, polite, and generally easy to work alongside. In fact, if you search "how to be likeable", you will find hundreds of articles instructing you on how to be more likeable at work. 

The problem we're talking about is the expectations of likeability. More specifically, there is a different expectation of "likeability" as part of a job function for women than there is for men. Nobody really finds this too shocking, I'm sure. A forum where you can see this regularly play out is politics. There are heaps more likeability talking points around women candidates or public officers. Simply put, there's an expectation of women to be pleasant, likeable, and agreeable. 

According to a survey conducted by LinkedIn, men and women are equally likely to describe themselves as "good at my job" or confident." It's when they hit language around likeability that we diverge. In fact, women are 10 percent more likely to drop the term "likeable" in a job interview. And here is where the larger issue comes into play.

For women in the modern workplace (yes, right now) likeability and success rarely come at the same time. In fact, decades of research across institutions like NYU and Princeton have determined that women face unique social penalties for taking well-worn paths to success. 

Is there a way to achieve success and remain likeable? Does it even matter? According to Menendez, women often face the Goldilocks Conundrum. As she explains "If you are a woman, as you rise professionally, somewhere between the entry-level and the middle, there is often a moment, or a series of moments, when you are made aware that something about the way you comport yourself is a problem." 

This is the Goldilocks Conundrum, which manifests itself in a series of "almost" phrases about a woman's work performance, tenacity, or "it factor." I think we are all familiar with this sort of deflective language. It's when you go in for that promotion and you're told you are not "quite management material" or that you're not "quite forceful enough." On the other hand, other women receive the "she's too aggressive", "too strong-willed" or the ever-so-succinct B-word. 

When Likeability Goes Too Far  

When I started really thinking about being likeable, I naturally examined how it seeps into my everyday day. For example, I'm a chronic door-holder. Sometimes I hold the door open for someone who is still hundreds of feet away, causing them to have to put some pep in their step to make it through the door. That's not actually very helpful.

I think holding doors is decent. I think being kind to your server is human. These are not the sort of things we're talking about when we talk about likeability. Rather, it's those times where you do a disservice to yourself, your work, and your beliefs to appease someone else. Sometimes I can tend to fall into the trap of being too agreeable and too accommodating. The only person that hurts, in the long run, is me. Being too agreeable, like constantly apologizing, can end up undermining your authority. 

I recently came face-to-face with a drawback of my own people-pleasing. There's the old adage about every couple getting into relationship-ending fights at Ikea. Typically, it's because they disagree on a couch or a chair—and it all devolves from there. When my now-husband and I began cohabitating, we made our own pilgrimage to that larger-than-life blue and yellow warehouse in Burbank. 

We made it through the whole showroom in harmony—before we reached a disagreement about a coffee table. It wasn't because I loved one that he hated or vice-versa. It was simply because we were between two coffee tables—one of which was not available in the warehouse that day.

I wanted to make sure he liked whichever one we got, so I offered probably 300 solutions for buying one coffee table. This is a classic move I picked up from my mother—something my siblings and I call "planicking." It's when you're being so accommodating that you undermine yourself and your ability to make simple decisions. By being so painfully accommodating, you actually end up spinning things backward. 

My planicking got so quickly out of hand that he snapped, "You are being too flexible about this!"

In the moment, I thought he was being ridiculous, of course. How could a person be too flexible? In retrospect, my people-pleasing got so out of control that it was propelling us backward. I'm guilty of this all the time. I strive so hard for others to be comfortable that I sacrifice my own comfort. I say "Yes!" when the answer should be "Let me think about it." I allow boundaries to be blurred. I don't ask for what I really want—settling instead for what's here right now.

How to Turn Away from Likeability

So, you've identified that your emphasis on likeability might be a bit of a hindrance, now what? 

A 2007 report from Catalyst explains that women face what's called the "double-bind" dilemma in the workplace. In this particular dilemma, women are often perceived as likeable or competent, but rarely both at once. In short, if we demonstrate classically-"feminine" traits (eyeroll) we are deemed as likeable and "nice," but not competent. When we apply more "masculine" behaviors like strength an assertiveness, we can be seen as competent—but rarely likeable. 

Author Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie has some poignant advice is recognizing pivotal moments—moments in which you need to turn away from likeability to preserve your work and your vision. 

“If you start thinking about being likable you are not going to tell your story honestly because you are going to be so concerned with not offending, and that’s going to ruin your story, so forget about likability.”

The idea is this. When a preoccupation with likeability butts heads with your ideas, your goals, or your vision, it's simply not worth it. It's in recognizing these crucial moments that you must do away with likeability. 

So go forth—likeability be damned. Be kind, be fair, and be honest on your way to the top. When you get there? Make space for the next woman who might be perceived as "a little too forceful."