Hi , On-Balance Issue 180: The Winner Takes it All

Hello there and welcome back to On Balance, my fortnightly round-up of news, views and research around the issue of diversity, equity and inclusion. This issue is guest-authored by Michelle Weston, CRO and Executive Coach at the Executive Coaching Consultancy.

The Winner Takes it All

Boys' vulnerability to toxic online influence and social disconnection is back in the news. Six months after Adolescence brought the struggles of young boys into global focus, a new UK Taskforce is calling for urgent action, including a "Trusted Adult Guarantee," to tackle the issues faced by young men.

By coincidence, a few days ago, a friend who had read the original Lost Boys research on the struggles young men face, told me that while the issue is real and important, she still felt like she was being gaslit. Gaslit because, as the plight of boys rises up the agenda, the ongoing challenges faced by women seem to slip back into the shadows.

It made me reflect that there's something in the tone of current gender conversations. 

Creeping into the narrative is not only the sense that gender equality has "gone too far," but that men and boys are the people we really need to worry about. The implication being that maybe we should pause gender equity efforts until we've "rebalanced" things.

The problem is that in my coaching work with women, progress still feels painfully slow. I'm also wondering: what does rebalance look like, and who is it really for?

Let's start with what we know. Yes, some boys are struggling. In the UK they lag behind girls in reading, GCSE attainment and higher education entry. Suicide is the leading cause of death for men under 50. Anyone who cares about equity must care about that. Inclusion isn't selective.

But that's different from accepting that most men are being left behind, or the subtle implication that women's progress is to blame.

Inside large organisations, men aren't systematically left behind. They still hold over 80% of real power roles - commercial, P&L and operational positions - on FTSE 350 executive teams. 

Headlines about progress don't reveal that most women remain in HR, marketing, or legal roles, with no clear route to CEO. Only 4–6% of FTSE 350 companies have female CEOs.

In our coaching work, men are more likely to be sponsored into senior roles and assumed capable by default.

So is what's happening marginalisation, or a sense of discomfort?

Some men genuinely feel left behind, and understanding this is essential. Many were raised with expectations to stay in control, avoid showing emotion, and prove value through success. They face loneliness in workplaces that may not make it safe to ask for help. These problems are real. But inclusion efforts don't cause them: they're often better addressed because of these efforts.

Mid-level male managers can feel stuck. They are under pressure to perform but rarely part of equity conversations. While they may not feel individually powerful, they still benefit from systemic advantages. Being asked to share power can feel like loss, especially if they've never had to think about power before. These feelings are valid and unsettling. But it's not oppression. It's progress, and it's uncomfortable.

The risk of retreating on gender equity isn't just frustration. It's the erosion of trust and belief. When equity keeps being frustrated by those who hold organisational power, budgets and influence, people begin to question whether change was ever genuinely planned. They may not speak up, but they retreat into the quiet corners of the organisation. Promising talent opts out. Those with the most to contribute start doing just enough to get by.

With a spotlight that shifts constantly, focusing on one group at a time before moving on, we risk signalling to entire generations that fairness is fleeting, power never truly changes, and attention to their issues is always short-lived. The light moves on, and they’re left in the dark.

The frustration of being sidelined from equity conversations is real. But we have to be careful where we direct it. When we get into binary debates about who deserves the most attention, we lose in a zero-sum game of our own creation. And that is the trap.

The real problem is a system that creates scarcity, then watches us fight over the spotlight.

Behind the searing feeling of unfairness is the truth that inclusion isn't about taking turns. It's about challenging the idea that fairness is limited. When we fall for the competition myth, the only winners are those the system was always built for.

As a gay woman from a working-class background, inclusion was never just about gender for me. Holding my nerve means resisting the pull to soften the work or to shift focus to those just noticing how the system operates. I'll acknowledge that many men find things difficult, while being clear this isn't the same as being systematically disadvantaged.

So, when frustration rises, as it did for my friend, it’s not a signal to look away, but a cue to look harder. Because the most comfortable narratives are often the ones doing the most damage. And comfort, if left unchallenged, tends to turn progress into regression.