The Race Was Never Fair to Begin With : Black Women, Meritocracy and the Politics of Progression

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It is not that Black women are unqualified for executive positions. Sometimes, these women are even overqualified. The problem is that as you progress through the ranks, you begin to encounter ceilings that require more than competence, hard work or experience to shatter.

Some of these ceilings are constructed from cronyism, nepotism, favouritism, selective visibility and the unspoken politics of belonging. Competence, ironically, is not always the deciding factor.

And so, the question becomes: why do organisations that claim to value excellence, diversity and meritocracy continue to tolerate cultures where progression is so heavily influenced by relationships, familiarity and proximity to power?

For those who do not fit the preferred mould, career progression becomes an unnecessarily tumultuous adventure. You can deliver exceptional results, demonstrate leadership, exceed expectations and still find yourself standing outside rooms where decisions about your future have seemingly already been made.

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And perhaps this is what makes the experience particularly frustrating. The rules are rarely written down. You are told to work harder, become more visible, build relationships, demonstrate your readiness and put yourself forward. Yet you watch others advance through pathways that appear to demand considerably less. There is also something fundamentally flawed about organisational cultures that confuse visibility with capability.

Some people are exceptionally good at managing upwards. They know how to position themselves, cultivate influential relationships, speak the language of senior leadership and ensure their contributions are seen. None of these qualities is inherently wrong. In fact, relationship-building and effective communication are important leadership skills.

But being exceptionally good at managing upwards does not automatically make someone exceptionally good at leading others. The ability to command attention in a boardroom is not necessarily evidence of the ability to inspire a team. Being well-liked by senior executives does not automatically translate into sound judgement, strategic competence or the emotional intelligence required to lead people through complexity.

Yet, in some organisations, these distinctions become dangerously blurred. We have created workplace cultures where the performance of leadership can sometimes carry more weight than the substance of leadership. Where confidence is mistaken for competence, proximity to power is interpreted as potential, and those who are most visible are assumed to be the most capable.

And this raises another uncomfortable question: how many genuinely exceptional leaders have organisations overlooked because they were too busy rewarding the people who knew how to be seen?

Visibility, of course, matters. Relationships matter too. But when being seen becomes more valuable than being effective, and being liked carries more weight than being capable, organisations are no longer rewarding excellence. They are rewarding familiarity.

The consequences extend beyond the individuals who are overlooked. Organisations risk promoting people who are better at navigating internal politics than delivering meaningful outcomes. They lose talented employees, undermine trust in their recruitment processes and perpetuate leadership cultures that reproduce themselves rather than evolve.

And then there is the question of race.

For Black women, the challenge can be particularly complex. There is often an additional burden of having to demonstrate not only competence but also cultural acceptability. To be confident, but not intimidating. Assertive, but not aggressive. Ambitious, but not threatening. Visible, but not too visible.

It is an exhausting balancing act, particularly when the standards by which people are judged appear to shift depending on who is standing before the panel.

And while organisations continue to publish diversity commitments, celebrate Black History Month and speak enthusiastically about inclusive leadership, the more uncomfortable question remains: who actually gets promoted when the opportunities arise?

Because representation is not simply about how many Black women an organisation employs. It is about how many are trusted with authority, given meaningful opportunities to progress and considered credible contenders for the most senior positions.

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It is also about whether the pathways to those positions are genuinely accessible or quietly reserved for those who have already secured the confidence and sponsorship of influential decision-makers.

Sponsorship itself is not the problem. Good leaders should identify, develop and champion talent. The problem arises when sponsorship becomes selective patronage, when opportunities are distributed through personal preference rather than transparent criteria, and when those outside established networks are expected to compete for positions others have effectively been groomed to occupy.

In such environments, competent introverts are often among the first to be overlooked. Not because they lack leadership potential, but because their contributions may not be accompanied by the constant self-promotion that increasingly passes for ambition.

For Black women who are also navigating racial stereotypes, limited access to influential networks and the pressure to continually prove their worth, the climb can become even steeper. And perhaps this is where our understanding of meritocracy needs serious interrogation.

We like to believe that the most capable people rise to the top. That hard work speaks for itself. That recruitment processes are fair because they are advertised, panels are assembled and candidates are interviewed. But a process can be procedurally compliant and still operate within a culture of unequal opportunity.

An interview panel does not automatically erase years of preferential access, informal sponsorship, selective development opportunities or the advantages of being known and favoured by those making the decisions. By the time a vacancy is advertised, the race may already have been running for years.

And this is why conversations about diversity cannot begin and end with encouraging Black women to apply for senior positions. We must also examine the organisational cultures, informal networks and leadership behaviours that determine who is perceived as ready long before the recruitment process begins. We speak endlessly about breaking glass ceilings, but perhaps we should be asking who keeps rebuilding them.

Because when cronyism, favouritism and selective visibility become the recipe for progression, some people are already halfway down the track before the race begins.Competent introverts are left struggling to qualify, while Black women are still waiting to be handed a baton.

And yet, everyone insists the race is fair.