Opinion

'Having it all' has always been a poor measure of success

'Having it all' has always been a poor measure of success

Anne-Marie Slaughter/ It's time to let go of the idea of ??"having it all." The phrase, popularized by Cosmopolitan's Helen Gurley Brown, captured the goal many women like me aspired to in the 1970s and 1980s. We wanted to have the same careers as our fathers without giving up the family life that many mothers had had. ours. But this version of feminism was too narrow. A decade ago, I wrote an article explaining the dilemma that had led me to leave my job at the US State Department. To my surprise, it went viral. The essay was titled "Why Women Still Can't Have It All," focusing on the key changes society still needs to make to accommodate the needs of working women. Since then, the authors,

Check out Cosmo's article on the 40th anniversary of Gurley Brown's book that asks, "What does it really mean to have it all in 2022?" In 2023, the answer is that the phrase itself is a dull, depressing and deeply sexist way to frame the debate about work and family – and about leadership. People around the world seem to agree, given some of the reactions to media coverage of Jacinda Ardern's resignation as New Zealand prime minister.

The double standards swirling around Ardern's treatment are outrageous. If a male leader with a young child had resigned, citing professional burnout, after five and a half years of leading a nation through multiple crises, we would have been thrust into a post-pandemic mental health debate. If he had said he was leaving to spend time with family, there would have been widespread speculation of a hidden scandal. Yet when a female leader says she has nothing left to give, most media outlets assume it's because she wants to spend more time at home, in part to ease the guilt she must feel about not being with her children.

BBC përdori titullin: "Jacinda Ardern jep dorëheqjen: A mund t'i kenë gratë vërtet gjithçka?" Mjaft. Të gjitha qeniet njerëzore që punojnë dhe kanë të dashur që kanë nevojë për kujdes, ndjejnë tërheqjen e ndarjes së kohës mes punës dhe familjes. Gratë e ndiejnë atë më intensivisht sepse shoqëria pret që ato të jenë kujdestare – dhe i qorton ato kur nuk janë. Gjatë gjithë mandatit të saj, Ardern ka qenë pioniere e një stili shumë më njerëzor të udhëheqjes.

Ajo solli foshnjën e saj tre muajshe në asamblenë e përgjithshme të OKB-së dhe nxori në dukje faktin se shumë foshnja ushqehen me gji nga nënat e tyre.

Pas sulmit vdekjeprurës të vitit 2019 në dy xhamitë e Christchurch, ndjeshmëria e Ardernit ishte një model për të gjithë liderët që lundronin në kriza të tmerrshme njerëzore. Dhe në të njëjtin vit ajo u përpoq në mënyrë eksplicite për të ripërcaktuar metrikën e një ekonomie të shëndetshme, me publikimin e "Buxhetit të mirëqenies" së Zelandës së Re. Qeveria e saj synonte të trajtonte problemet sociale duke shikuar përtej masave tradicionale si PBB-ja dhe shifrat e punësimit. Buxheti i dha prioritet shëndetit mendor, mirëqenies së fëmijëve dhe mbështetjes për popullatat indigjene Maori dhe Pasifika.

Nga mirëqenia kombëtare te veprimi i saj i shpejtë dhe vendimtar për të mbrojtur njerëzit nga Covid-19, Ardern fitoi besimin e njerëzve në Zelandën e Re duke u zgjedhur dy herë.

Her decision to resign, and her honest explanation, is not part of female leadership, but human leadership. So if we're not prepared to apply the same standard to men, let's banish the phrase "have it all" from our vocabulary. It's too late to move on to the far more interesting question: how can we redefine the metrics of success for all of us—whether individual leaders or entire economies—so that we can make room for care and well-being alongside competition and ambition

*Anne-Marie Slaughter is chief executive of the think-tank and a contributing editor to the FT