Many people feel a rush of pride when they get promoted. It is the sort of moment you tell your family about with a smile and a slightly dramatic retelling of how indispensable you clearly are. Hard work rewarded. Effort recognised. A lovely, stable upward trajectory. But in politics, that story often looks very different for women.
There is a concept known as the “glass cliff,” first identified by researchers at the University of Exeter. It describes how women are more likely to be appointed to leadership roles during periods of crisis, instability, or general chaos. In simple terms, women are handed the controls when the plane is already losing altitude.
This pattern is particularly obvious in British politics. Margaret Thatcher became Conservative leader after widespread dissatisfaction with Edward Heath’s leadership and electoral failures in 1974. The party had lost twice and needed someone new. Enter Thatcher.
Decades later, Theresa May stepped into leadership immediately after David Cameron resigned following the Brexit referendum. The country was divided, the pound was falling, and nobody quite knew what “Brexit means Brexit” was supposed to mean.
Then came Liz Truss, who took over after Boris Johnson resigned amid scandal and internal party chaos, during soaring inflation and a cost of living crisis. If there were ever a “good luck with that” job description, that was it.
It is difficult not to notice the pattern. Women do not just become leaders. They become leaders when the situation is already on fire and someone needs to hold the extinguisher.
And this is not just a British hobby.
In Australia, Joan Kirner inherited a significant budget deficit in Victoria in 1990. Kristina Keneally took leadership while her party’s polling numbers were collapsing. Julia Gillard became Australia’s first female prime minister during intense internal party conflict and was later removed in a leadership spill that felt like political musical chairs.
In Canada, Kim Campbell became prime minister when her party was already heading toward what turned out to be one of the worst defeats in Canadian history. In Brazil, Dilma Rousseff rose to power during corruption investigations and was later impeached.
Even in business, the pattern continues. Marissa Mayer took over Yahoo when it was rapidly losing market share. Linda Yaccarino stepped into Twitter at a moment of financial instability and public controversy. It is almost as if struggling organisations think, “Right, things are dire. Let’s try something bold.” Translation: appoint a woman and hope for the best.
The important point is that these women were not unqualified. Most were highly experienced and perfectly capable. The issue is timing. If you are given leadership when everything is already deteriorating, your margin for success is tiny. Failure becomes statistically more likely, and when it happens, it risks reinforcing lazy assumptions about women’s leadership rather than acknowledging the circumstances they inherited.
That is what makes the glass cliff so frustrating. If a woman succeeds, she is treated as exceptional. If she struggles, it becomes part of a narrative. Meanwhile, the crisis itself quietly disappears from the story.
As a woman interested in politics, this makes me pause. Is leadership an exciting opportunity, or is it sometimes a slightly dressed up poisoned chalice? Do women come to mind when a party is stable, popular, and confident? Or only when it is fractured, damaged, and looking for someone brave enough to steady the ship?
Even within the UK, the contrast is interesting. Jo Swinson led the Liberal Democrats during a difficult election and lost her seat. Later, Ed Davey led the party during a period of recovery and improved results. Crisis under a woman. Recovery under a man. Make of that what you will.
Of course, men also inherit disasters. Politics is not exactly known for its calm predictability. But the repeated examples across countries and sectors suggest this is not pure coincidence. Research on the glass cliff shows women are statistically more likely to be appointed when risk is highest. That should make anyone serious about equality slightly uncomfortable.
True equality is not just about women reaching the top. It is about whether they are trusted to lead when things are going well, not just when everything has gone spectacularly wrong.
Until women are the obvious first choice rather than the emergency option, the glass ceiling may be cracked, but the cliff underneath it is still very real.