ACCORDING to ILO, women globally hold around 30 per cent of senior and middle management positions, rising to 35-40pc in many advanced economies. But Pakistan ranks among the worst performers. Women occupy less than 8pc of senior and middle management roles, placing the country alongside Afghanistan and Yemen at the bottom of global rankings. Even compared to other Muslim-majority countries, the gap is stark: Brunei reports 32.1pc, the UAE 23.5pc, Tunisia 26pc, and Turkiye 19.1pc. These figures reflect the lived reality of Pakistan’s workplaces, where women’s presence is increasingly visible but their authority remains marginal.
Misogyny in Pakistan’s workplaces has many faces. In traditional environments, it is loud and unapologetic: ‘Yeh kaam aurat nahi kar sakti’ (women can’t do this work) or ‘aurat ka kaam ghar sambhalna hai’ (women’s place is the home). Women are mocked, and their ambition is dismissed. In more polished institutions, misogyny is subtler. It cloaks itself in the language of progress and inclusion. Women are applauded on Women’s Day, and showcased as symbols of modernity. Yet while they are invited to the table, they are steered towards its edges. This misogyny does not shout; it smiles — while ensuring that authority and strategy remain male domains.
At first glance, gender equality in such environments appears convincing. But over time, the fine print becomes visible. In meetings, regardless of how many men are present, it is usually a woman who is politely asked to take notes, circulate minutes, or draft follow-up emails. This invisible office housework is rarely assigned to male colleagues. Framed as helpfulness rather than hierarchy, its cumulative effect is powerful: women are positioned as facilitators, not decision-makers. Women’s ideas face a similar fate. A suggestion offered by a woman is often met with silence. Minutes later, when a male colleague repeats the same point, it is received with enthusiasm. The idea gains legitimacy only after passing through a male voice.
Over time, clear patterns emerge. Administrative coordination, compliance work and routine management tasks gravitate towards women, while strategic decisions — growth plans, financial strategy, mergers and long-term vision — remain male preserves. When these strategies succeed, credit accrues to male leadership. When they fail, women are often pushed forward — not to lead recovery, but to manage the fallout and absorb blame. Their presence becomes part of an organisation’s PR strategy: women as symbols of inclusivity, as buffers against criticism.
Authority is kept from women at the workplace.
As a result, women are disproportionately clustered in front-facing roles — human resources, customer service, corporate communications — positions empha-sising visibility and emotional labour rather than authority. Even when women rise, another ceiling often awaits them. Promotions depend on informal male networks where loyalty is prized over leadership. The unspoken test is not competence but compliance: will she align unquestioningly with existing power structures?
Achievement, too, is narrated differently. A man’s success is attributed to intelligence and leadership. A woman’s success is often explained away as networking or favour. Her failures — even those rooted in decisions she did not make — are personalised and amplified. The result is a workplace where women are present everywhere except where power is exercised.
This form of misogyny is particularly difficult to challenge because it is polite and persistent. No one explicitly says women do not belong. Instead, they are quietly confined to roles smaller than their capacity, their authority diluted through practices that appear neutral but are deeply gendered. But they matter profoundly. They shape leadership pipelines, determine who is seen as a strategist, and decide who is invited into rooms where futures are shaped. ILO statistics merely quantify what countless professional women experience daily: visibility without authority. Addressing white-collar misogyny requires more than gender-sensitisation workshops or Women’s Day celebrations. It demands structural change. Office housework must be redistributed and made rotational. Women’s achievements must be recognised without reducing them to ‘soft skills’. Decision-making spaces must be audited: who is present when strategy is discussed, and who is absent? Inclusion must occur before decisions are made, not after.
Pakistan can’t afford to sideline half its population. The cost is not only moral but economic. The International Growth Centre estimates that closing gender gaps could raise Pakistan’s GDP by up to 30pc. Until white-collar misogyny is dismantled, Women’s Day flowers will continue to wilt long before they reach the boardroom.
The writer is director, Population Research Centre, Institute of Business Administration Karachi.
Published in Dawn, January 13th, 2026
