“I'M sick and tired of incompetent vaginas being promoted around this place.” This comment is in an email that Elizabeth Broderick, Australia’s Sex Discrimination Commissioner, sends me the day after our interview.
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It’s not her sentiment, obviously; it’s in response to my question about the worst things a man has ever said to her. She wanted time to think about it as “there’ve been some crackers”.
Broderick will step down as commissioner in September. I mention the instructions from her media office that I must not ask about her next move.
She seems embarrassed by the imposed limitation: “Well, I mean, we can – you can – ask about it generally.”
Her desire to change the world hasn’t abated in the eight years she’s been at the Human Rights Commission, first as commissioner for both age and sex discrimination, later handing the age portfolio to Susan Ryan in 2011.
“I see myself hopefully doing a small number of high-impact roles, whatever that might look like, rather than jumping into another full-time role,” she says.
“We can put all the data out there about the pay gap being at the highest level, violence against women ... but when people not just connect, but step up and take strong action, that’s where you engage both head and heart.”
- Elizabeth Broderick
So we can rule out secretary-general of the United Nations?
“Yeah, although you wouldn’t want to rule out the UN.”
That’s no surprise. Broderick is already global co-chair of the UN’s Women’s Empowerment Principles Leadership Group, and has roles with gender programs for the World Bank and NATO.
I recite a few points from a game plan she penned for herself in the 1990s, which was mentioned in a 2007 interview when she started at the Human Rights Commission.
It stated: “Advocacy – she will have a platform from which to influence. She will be living the message. She’ll have personal influence and speak out on things that matter. Liz will have global connections using advocacy.”
Broderick throws back her head and laughs when I ask what sort of person articulates a list of goals so specific, broad-reaching and ambitious and then, more remarkably, ends up ticking them off?
“You’re absolutely right; I suppose it’s about staying true to the things that I care about and love,” she says. “That was an amazing platform when I think about it. Because that is exactly … still what I care about.”
Even so, Broderick – who was a powerful commercial lawyer, won Telstra Business Woman of the Year in 2001 and was named the Australian Financial Review and Westpac Woman of Influence in 2014 – says she never in her wildest dreams imagined being where she is today.
Broderick grew up in a small family medical practice that her father, a nuclear medicine physician and her mother, a physiotherapist, set up together. From age four, Broderick and twin sister Jane had the job of serving cups of tea to the patients.
“They were people waiting to find out whether they had a brain tumour, or a this, or a that. So they were people at very vulnerable stages of their lives and I suppose we learnt to interact with people at all ages and stages, but also to listen to their stories.”
She worked at the surgery daily until age 18.
“We had our [driver’s] licences, and Mum and Dad thought it was a good idea for us to pick the patients up from the hospital and bring them to the surgery. Can you imagine?”
Broderick says she always felt deep compassion and empathy about suffering but, as a child, the tendency was to become overwhelmed and sit and think about how unfair it all was.
“I was always a reasonably shy kid who, I suppose, really connected with the underdog, you know? We’d walk past a restaurant, there was no one in there, and I’d always say to Mum and Dad, ‘That’s the restaurant. We need to go to that one’, not the one next door that was full of people, for obvious reasons. And I’m still like that today.”
It’s easy to understand why she has cried on the job. Broderick says it happens when she hears women’s stories and feels powerless to bring about the necessary change to create a different future for them.
“I hold on to that emotion, but now I try to use it in a way that fuels a strategic response to create change, rather than sit with deep sadness about the way the world is.”
Rather than just get under the doona? “Yeah. Although that sometimes looks pretty good.”
The ongoing battle for gender equality isn’t pleasant. People of both sexes often accuse women of playing the victim card or banging on about stuff that will never happen.
"I am so lucky to live in Australia, that I won’t be shot for speaking out for women’s rights or my family tortured. But that doesn’t mean our work here is done.”
- Elizabeth Broderick
I recount a recent conversation I had with a woman about nominating her client for the AFR-Westpac 100 Women of Influence Awards. Her response: “What? That sexist bullshit, I never had any problem getting to where I am. Why do you even care? It’s all so boring.”
“That’s raw emotion,” Broderick says laughing ruefully. “I meet women like that, particularly in the military but also in other organisations. They are women who don’t actually understand that there can be a different way than what they had to do to get where they are.”
It’s great that they never experienced any sexism or discrimination, Broderick says. But it’s also about asking, ‘Would you be happy for your daughter to go through exactly the same thing you did, today, or do you think there are ways it could be done differently?’
“And the fact is, don’t ever extrapolate that your own experience is every other woman’s lived experience.”
Australia is number 24 on the World Economic Forum’s Gender Gap Index, which compiles data on things such as education, health, social policies.
Broderick says it puts us in the more advanced group in terms of gender equality. But she recognises that change here is “glacially slow”.
That’s where Broderick’s power for storytelling comes to the fore. If you frame the story right, make it compelling, to enable the listener to connect to whatever issue you’re trying to drive change on, it’s a different and engaging way for rallying people to action.
“We can put all the data out there about the pay gap being at the highest level, violence against women ... but when people not just connect, but step up and take strong action, that’s where you engage both head and heart.”
She also thinks it is time to change tactics to get women closer to economic power – where there’s been almost no progress – because what works to boost access in health and education clearly doesn’t when it comes to running the money.
She wants more disruptive strategies and her Male Champions of Change program is part of that.
Started in early 2010 with six chief executives and chairmen from big companies, it now includes 150 men. The idea is to get powerful men to talk to other powerful men about what they see and how to change it.
“It’s a controversial strategy that is about men stepping up beside women, not speaking for them, not saving them, but actually stepping up and accepting responsibility and accountability for gender equality,” she says.
It’s controversial for other reasons. In 2014, a handful of companies led by male champions fell off the Workplace Gender Equality Agency’s list of Employers of Choice and criticism lurks that the project is more about back-patting and public posturing than change.
Broderick says stringent gender reporting requirements, to which the male champions sign up, show when a company is slipping and keep the men accountable.
The system is so effective because steps must be taken to ensure a slip doesn’t recur. It creates positive, tangible action.
“If I see someone’s dropping off the edge, I am out on their case,” she says.
But if Broderick is not there cracking the whip, what will happen to the program? “Don’t worry, even if I’m not the sex discrimination commissioner I’ll be there,” she says with a grin.
The other part of her disruptive arsenal is quotas: mandating the number of women that must be included on a board.
“Targets have got us, well, you know, a significant way – 20 per cent [women] on boards from 8 per cent. But for me quotas are definitely not off the table.
“If what we start to see is it slip back [as has happened with women in management positions], or we just flat-line, then I think quotas will need to be part of the picture.”
She does say quotas are a blunt instrument, a one-size-fits all response to different organisations at different starting points.
“Having said that, I think that, particularly if we don’t see getting over 30 per cent [women] on boards in the next five years, we really will be having a hard discussion about it.”
While you might start talking with Broderick wondering why gender equality is going so slowly, you finish with a much more nuanced – and surprisingly optimistic – attitude about Australia’s position in the gender battle.
Last year Broderick travelled to Afghanistan. She had been down to the forward operating bases in the south – dry, stinking hot and where honour killings aren’t unusual.
The Australian military organised for her to meet her Afghan counterpart, a woman called Soraya Sobhrang.
“She talked to me about the fact she has to use a different route to work every day, that her children aren’t safe. And she speaks with good reason because her predecessor, who I knew from the United Nations, was killed by a suicide bomber at her daughter’s 14th birthday.
“So I still think I am so lucky to live in Australia, that I won’t be shot for speaking out for women’s rights or my family tortured. But that doesn’t mean our work here is done.”
The Australian Financial Review/Westpac 100 Women of Influence Awards promote bold and diverse women championing change in business and society. Enter yourself or someone you know in one or more of the 10 categories: local/regional, board/management, innovation, culture, public policy, business enterprise, diversity, young leader, global, social enterprise/not-for-profit. Entries close August 9. For more information go to 100 Women of Influence.