Case Study: Is a Promotion Worth Hiding Who You Are?

“I have some news,” David Lee told his team member Mark Brown. David was the president of the U.S. division of the Korean conglomerate Hanguk Industries, where Mark, a vice president of technology, reported to him. “Good news?” Mark asked. “That depends, I guess,” David said, looking a little tentative. “They want you for the Seoul job. You’ll be getting the official e-mail from HR soon.” Hanguk was a large, fast-growing company with diversified interests spanning electronics, biotechnology, shipping, construction, and chemicals. Its most successful division, mobile telephony, was looking for a new head of software development at headquarters in Seoul. The division had just won a big contract with a major mobile operator in Qatar and needed to customize a smartphone system for the client’s Middle East–wide network in the next six months. Hanguk’s leadership would be watching the project closely, because expansion to the Arab world was one of its top strategic objectives. This was a dream job for Mark, and now, it seemed, he had it if he wanted it. “That’s great news!” Mark said. “Isn’t it?” He was puzzled by the pensive look on David’s face. Of course it was natural for a boss to have mixed feelings about seeing a valued employee move on, but David was more than Mark’s manager: He was his mentor. He’d always pushed Mark to advance in his career, and this was an internal promotion, on a three-year contract, so they’d still be working for the same company. Mark might even return to San Francisco after his stint at HQ. “I know this creates a problem for you,” Mark said, “but there are a few people around here who could take my place.” “I just want to be sure you’re making the right move,” David said carefully. “If I were certain you were, I’d support you 100%. But I’m not sure Korea is the best place for you—professionally or personally. Besides, your role will involve spending a lot of time in the Middle East.” Finally it dawned on Mark. “You mean because I’m gay,” he said flatly. When Hanguk recruiters had come to Mark’s business school campus several years earlier, they’d assured him that the company was run very much like an American one: Everyone spoke English, foreigners were welcome, pay and promotions were merit-based, and employees were happy. The chairman, Jae Kyung Park, was often quoted as saying that he wanted Hanguk to be a symbol of progress in Korea, with best practices that matched those of its global competitors. Mark had certainly found all that to be true in the San Francisco office, which David ran with great independence. Of course, he knew that the reality at headquarters was different. He’d seen it firsthand on the few trips he’d made there. In fact, David, a Korean-American who’d spent much of his youth in Seoul, put a lot of time into coaching his team on how to navigate the ins and outs of the chaebol’s culture and hierarchy. But Mark had never expected his sexual orientation to present a stumbling block in his career at the company. “We’ve come a long way,” David said. “So has Korea as a country. But it’s not California. I really believe that Hanguk is committed to diversity and is firmly anti-discrimination. But I also know that when Americans go to HQ, they’re expected to fit in and play by the rules.” He paused. “And then there’s life outside the office. I have gay Korean-American friends here who won’t even go back to visit their relatives.” He hesitated before adding, “I worry that you won’t feel comfortable being yourself.” “Are you saying that to do well in this job, I’ll have to pretend I’m straight?” Mark asked, as a flood of memories ran through his mind. Having grown up in suburban Columbus, Ohio, he knew well what a life of “pretending” meant. “No, I’m not saying that,” David replied. “But you should know that Korean society is conservative—especially if your standard is San Francisco.” We All Hide Parts of Ourselves “Don’t go!” Kate Seward screamed over her noodles. “You can’t!” “Calm down, Kate,” Mark said, smiling at his friend’s dramatics. They were out to dinner with another college friend, Jack Sheehan. Thick as thieves since freshman year, they’d all moved to San Francisco after graduation, and for more than a decade Pho Phy Quoc, in the Inner Sunset, had been their go-to meeting spot for catching up on one another’s lives. “Jack, back me up,” Kate said. “I don’t know why either of you is freaking out,” Jack said between slurps of soup. “You should go. They don’t need to know you’re gay.” “Wait,” Kate said, holding up her hands in shock. “You’ve been out since you were 15 years old, Jack. And now you’re pushing Mark, in his thirties, back into the closet?” “It’s not like we wear ‘I’m gay’ signs around our necks,” Jack replied. “I don’t introduce myself to coworkers with ‘Hi, I’m Jack. I like men.’ We all hide parts of ourselves at work. You’ve even told us you don’t mention your kids in meetings because you don’t want to get slotted into the mommy track.” Case Study Teaching Notes Karthik Ramanna teaches the case on which this story is based in the course Leadership and Corporate Accountability. What drew you to this story? The teaching case is loosely inspired by the experience of a Harvard alum working in Korea who was harassed by his boss for being gay. The company had the right policies in place, but the culture lagged. The employee quit and returned to America. In the end, he, his boss, and the company were all worse off. How do your students respond? Some say, “This is how the world works. Mark should ‘play the game’ if he wants to succeed.” Others think Mark should force his company to live its values, saying, “It would not be OK if this was about racial or gender discrimination.” Still others are altogether unsympathetic to a gay protagonist. What lessons do you hope to teach? How to calibrate and deliver on employee expectations of workplace dignity, particularly in a world with fast-evolving cultural norms. “But my colleagues still know I am a mom,” Kate said. She turned to Mark. “How can you even consider taking a job that requires you to hide the fact that you’re gay? It would be like going back to high school in Ohio! If you can’t act in Seoul the same way you can in San Francisco, then you shouldn’t go.” “No one has said that I definitely need to ‘hide’ who I am,” Mark replied. “But it’s not reasonable to think that expectations in Korea, or the Middle East, would be the same as in San Francisco. And I’m not a vulnerable high school kid anymore. Besides, they really want me. The chairman sent me a personal e-mail last night encouraging me to accept.” Getting an individual note from Mr. Park was a big deal. He continued, “The guy who would be my new boss, Sung-ho Moon, is flying out to meet with me on Monday. And this is a serious promotion. A huge step up in my career. More responsibility, more money, more industry exposure. I’ll have 25 developers reporting to me.” “That’s not all that matters in life,” Kate said. “Of course it’s not, but work is really important to me,” Mark replied. “I’d be more worried about your love life,” Jack teased. He had just married his boyfriend of eight years, and Kate and her husband had been together for 12. Mark, by contrast, was still very much single. “It’s not like I’d miss the nightlife in the Castro,” Mark joked. “I’d be super busy with work. And on the off chance I did want to go out, Seoul has some gay-friendly neighborhoods. One’s called ‘Homo Hill,’ which my mom found on the internet yesterday.” Everyone laughed. Neither of Mark’s parents had taken it well when their only child had written home from college to announce that he was gay, but his mother in particular had made a miraculous turnaround. She’d joined the Columbus PFLAG group and eventually became a mentor for other parents whose kids had just come out. She visited Mark every few months, so Kate and Jack knew her well. “Oh, Carol,” Kate said fondly. “What does she think?” “She said that she knows I’ll make a thoughtful decision—” “—which you always do,” Kate interjected. “But shockingly, she says that I should do it. True to her style, she’s been scouring the internet since I told her the news. She sent me some polling data suggesting that Korean society is improving when it comes to accepting gays. Apparently there is a Pew poll showing where major countries stand on gay issues. Korea wasn’t great—something like 40% say society should accept us—but it wasn’t abysmal either. As in most places, it seems to be a generational thing. Young Koreans see no problem with homosexuality; it’s the older generations that still struggle with the concept. She even forwarded clips of an openly gay TV personality.” “It also helps that the contract is for only three years,” Mark added. “So according to her, I can do my time, come back to the U.S. office, find the man of my dreams, and, most important, give her some grandchildren.” “Sounds perfect,” Jack said. Mark nodded, but he knew that scenario was a long shot—on all fronts. He wasn’t sure he even wanted to get married or have kids. He was happy to focus on his career. Assuming that all went as forecast, the mobile telephony group would be busy with exciting, challenging work for at least the next five to seven years. And if he intended to climb even further at Hanguk, Seoul was the place to be. Diversity and Inclusion Mark stood and formally shook Sung-ho Moon’s hand, bowing slightly, as he’d learned to do with all his Korean colleagues. “This is a very exciting time for Hanguk Industries,” Sung-ho said. “Chairman Park asked me to tell you how much he wants you to take this position. We know from David and others that you have the right skills, expertise, and creativity to manage this very important group. You are exactly the kind of leader we want. And as you know, we are keen to increase the representation of foreigners in all our businesses. We pride ourselves on being a multinational leadership team. It is the only way that we will succeed as a global company.” Mark remained silent while Sung-ho continued. He knew he was expected to show deference to anyone more senior. “You’ll be the first expat to lead one of our mobile software teams, but we’ve had other foreigners in the group. There was one in particular who did quite well—Mr. Ryan Porter. He was very much like you.” Sung-ho paused and looked Mark in the eye. He knows, Mark thought, slightly shocked. “He fit in very nicely. He understood a lot about Korean culture, and he did his best to act in a way that was comfortable for us Koreans.” He did his best to stay in the closet, Mark thought. “The cultural differences are difficult. That’s why the offer includes an increase in salary. ‘Hardship pay,’ I think they call it in English.” Mark nodded, assuring Sung-ho that he’d gotten the phrase right. “Of course,” Sung-ho continued, “as outlined in our Global Code of Conduct, we are committed to making every effort to create a working environment in which foreigners, women, even the disabled, are respected.” Mark was confused. At first it had sounded like Sung-ho was telling him to keep quiet about his sexual orientation. Now he was talking about inclusivity. Which was it? “We are all hoping you will accept the offer. We will make every effort to see that you’re comfortable, and I presume that you will make every effort to fit in. Yes? That could be our agreement.” “I’m extremely honored to be considered,” Mark said. “I would greatly appreciate it if you would give me another day or two to think about it.” “Yes, certainly,” Sung-ho said. “We do very much want you for this very important role. But,” he added pointedly, “I know it is not an easy decision to leave your home country.” They again shook hands. Mark bowed, and Sung-ho left the office. Not five minutes later, David walked in. “So, did he give you the hard sell?” “I’m not sure,” Mark said. “Did you tell him I’m gay?” “Of course not,” David said sincerely, and Mark believed him. “Well, he seemed to know; he hinted at it, in a bizarre sort of way.” David shook his head but then quickly added, “I’m sure if you go to Seoul, you’ll find yourself learning lots of new things, and not just about work.” “So you think I should do it?” “Look, Mark, it’s up to you. I know you’d knock this out of the park. There’s no doubt it’d be good for Hanguk and for your career. Just know that if you say no, there will be other opportunities. I’m not going to be here forever.” “But there’s no way they’d give me your job if I had no experience in Korea,” Mark said. “Not necessarily,” David said. “The rules are changing.” “So maybe other rules are changing too?” “Maybe,” David said. But Mark could tell from his tone that he didn’t quite believe that. Question: Should Mark take the offer? The Experts Respond Christopher A. Murphy is a vice president and deputy general counsel at DIRECTV. This promotion represents a great opportunity for Mark, and since he seems to be at a point in his life where his career is more important than finding a partner or building a family, I think he should take it. The role will be challenging, both personally and professionally, but it could lead to many good things down the road—possibly even cultural change at Hanguk. To be clear: I firmly believe that people should be their authentic selves at work. I’ve been openly gay for most of my career and was honored by the National Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgender Bar Association for my commitment to supporting and promoting equality in the legal profession. But I’m also a realist. I know that in some courtrooms or partner meetings, mentioning my sexual orientation or talking about my husband would be detrimental to what I am trying to accomplish. I wish that weren’t the case, but it is. Obergefell v. Hodges may have made same-sex marriage legal across the United States, but in more than half those states an employee can still be fired for being gay, lesbian, or bisexual. Cultural attitudes can take a long time to change—whether you’re in the United States or Korea. Hanguk Industries seems to be trying to do the right thing, though. Mark has had a great experience in the San Francisco office, and although Sung-ho didn’t expressly say that sexual orientation is considered part of the company’s inclusion efforts, he did suggest that Mark’s being gay won’t hinder his growth or success. Remember, too, that any move to a foreign country requires adjustments. If Mark relocates to Seoul, he’ll have to learn to show more deference to superiors (clearly not the sort of relationship he has with David) and to effectively cater to Arab clients. Figuring out how to represent and talk (or not talk) about his sexual orientation will be just another thing to navigate. It shouldn’t be a deal breaker. After all, as Jack points out, many people downplay parts of themselves—an unpopular political view, a complete lack of interest in sports, a love of slasher flicks—in the workplace. And as gay and lesbian identity becomes more mainstream and accepted, being out all the time is not as important as it used to be. Cultural attitudes can take a long time to change—in the U.S. or Korea. I wouldn’t counsel Mark to work in a “don’t ask, don’t tell” environment forever. But the limited time period should make his stint in Korea palatable. If he feels too constrained, personally or professionally, by the office culture, he can always return home. David is right that there are probably many other opportunities at Hanguk and elsewhere. But if Mark is enjoying the work, three years will fly by. As he grows more comfortable with colleagues, he might even be able to come out and change their attitudes: It often takes interacting with just one gay or lesbian person to shift someone’s prejudices about sexual orientation. If Mark takes this job and does it well, it’s not just a growth opportunity for him—it’s a growth opportunity for his team and the company as a whole. Christie Smith is the managing principal for the West region at Deloitte Consulting LLP, where she leads the Deloitte University Leadership Centers for Inclusion and Community Impact. All signs point to this being the wrong move for Mark. He, like everyone else, deserves a job that helps him thrive; this role, at this company, in this location, doesn’t appear to fit that criterion. He should, of course, do a bit more due diligence to confirm what he’s being asked to do. He might talk with Sung-ho Moon again (more openly this time), or even visit Seoul to get a better feel for the office and the city culture. But if he concludes that accepting the promotion means stepping back into the closet, he shouldn’t take it. In fact, he should probably consider whether he even wants to stay in Hanguk’s San Francisco office. Is this a company he can grow in—and be loyal to—over the long term? As a lesbian, I’ve fortunately never been asked to conceal my sexual orientation for a job, but from the research my team at Deloitte has conducted with more than 3,000 employees across 10 industries, I know that Mark is far from alone. Our studies show that 83% of lesbian, gay, and bisexual people “cover” at work—downplay or even hide a significant part of who they are and how they define themselves. Of that 83%, nearly three-quarters say that covering has a detrimental impact on their sense of self and their ability to do their work. Mark may think that he can manage it for three years in Korea, but evidence suggests that it will take a personal toll and hinder his ability to perform. Sung-ho’s discussion of diversity was a big red flag. Sung-ho’s discussion of diversity was a big red flag. Although he went to great lengths to talk about foreigners, women, and people with disabilities, he left out sexual orientation, even while hinting that he knew about Mark’s. Clearly, his promise of inclusion is conditional. And we hear from lesbians, gays, and bisexuals who cover that this is generally how it goes. Our research shows that 60% of them hide their sexual orientation because they think leaders want them to. Most senior executives, like Sung-ho, are too savvy to say anything outright, but we heard lots of stories from people who were expected to read between the lines when bosses talked about strong religious values, made antigay jokes, or even told them not to bring their significant others to office social events. If you drop hints, as Sung-ho and David have, the employee will most likely cover. I can understand why Mark is tempted to take the job and suck it up. He cares most about his career. But his professional growth will probably be stunted if he can’t perform at his best. And he shouldn’t fool himself that his Korean colleagues won’t find out eventually. You don’t have to dig too deeply into my social media profile to learn my sexual orientation, and the same is no doubt true for Mark. As a talented manager living in the Bay Area, Mark is bound to find loads of other opportunities. If he’s not being respected for who he is, he should get another job with a company that will allow him to live and work authentically. HBR’s fictionalized case studies present problems faced by leaders in real companies and offer solutions from experts. This one is based on the HBS Case Study “Dylan Pierce at Peninsula Industries” (case no. 115024), by Karthik Ramanna.

Case Study: Is a Promotion Worth Hiding Who You Are?

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