
I learned about the righteous deal when I negotiated to buy my first car. It was a five-hour ordeal at the dealership. I met with a rotation of Car Cops: good cop, bad cop, friendly-but-stern cop, calculator-wielding cop, they’re-going-fire-me cop, and finally contrite cop. Contrite cop acknowledged that my negotiating skills (which included a late-in-the-game “memory lapse” over how many months I had left on the leased Jetta I was selling them) won me a new car at close to base price. I wasn’t in it to gouge them. I wanted what was fair and told the floor salesman up front what I was willing to pay. He assured me that that was all I’d have to pay. Then six men spent five hours trying to break me. “In the car business we say you got ‘the righteous deal,” contrite cop told me. It was the proudest moment of my negotiating career.
I applaud Jennifer Lawrence for speaking up today on her experience with gender discrimination. I also completely understand why she didn’t speak up sooner, and I support the decision made by many women to remain silent about the double standards they contend with daily. The nature of the wage gap is such that merely beginning a conversation about changing our expectations and standards feels subversive. Lawrence’s situation is unique, as she repeatedly mentions, because her decision to speak up comes from a position of considerable power. Nonetheless, it’s a generous contribution to solving an industry-wide problem which she could easily have addressed privately with her agents. Her essay demystifyies the wage discussion and sets an invaluable precedent for women working in Hollywood.
I’m older than Lawrence and have been working in and around Hollywood for long enough to remember when there were no role models for what I do. Only Nora Ephron and Nancy Meyers were writing and directing studio comedies when I came up. That fact remained true for years. When I say there were “no role models” I mean this: Nora and Nancy were anomalies. There was no sense patterning your career after them. The job of being Nora Ephron was already taken. The absence of women at the top of the creative side of the business made it abundantly clear that those two women got to make movies because of who they were, not because women had any rightful place in the director’s chair. Today, thankfully, there are more women in those jobs than ever before, and young women have comparatively more opportunities to see women at work behind the camera. This is progress.
Lawrence is right when she suggests that her male counterparts are respected for getting better deals for themselves. It’s a man’s game and men begrudgingly respect other men who beat them in competition. In general, men don’t lose to women with the same equanimity. In fact, in most instances losing to women brings out the basest qualities of bad-loserdom in men, including name-calling. Lawrence mentions the “spoiled brat” tag as one she wanted to avoid. Personally, I think “crazy” is more potent, and “difficult” and “nightmare” are reputations that stick. Brattiness can be outgrown but crazy/difficult/nightmare are terminal traits of people you can’t trust and don’t want to be near. That women are routinely called crazy in Hollywood is, in my mind, a highly effective method for marginalizing them.
As for straight talk, Lawrence’s experience of giving direct feedback and essentially being told to “calm down” is pervasive. The unspoken expectation for women is that they should mother their work relationships and creative projects, and selflessly donate their time. If something comes back to them in any form — money, an agent, an opportunity — then they’re expected to feel grateful, not deserving and highly skilled. The upshot is that women are rightly confused as to the real value of their work. They contribute the same work as a guy, but for less money and with the added burden of social cues which actively dissuade them from confidently communicating their opinions. It’s a mindfuck, and sadly a lot of men aren’t aware of how they perpetuate it.
As long as women struggle to negotiate for themselves, studios will profit from paying them less than their male peers. It’s worth mentioning the Hollywood Diversity Report that came out this year which assessed the 2012–13 production year and found the executive ranks of TV networks and studios to be 71% male, and at film studios the number was an astounding 100% male. This means that if male executives independently decided to end the wage gap, it would be gone. Women may be slow to value themselves, but men are failing women too, possibly intentionally. (How’s that for blunt?) As Lawrence sees it, the onus is on her to negotiate for herself. She’s fortunate to have a powerful team of negotiators to help her make that happen. Most women begin their careers negotiating for themselves, without anyone to advise them, and my personal experience is that this is a losing battle. Every single time I’ve asked for equality, I’ve lost. There is no shortage of opportunities for me to write either on spec or for under-the-table money, and men later put their names on my work. This gives me zero negotiating power in the long run. The deck is stacked so many ways in favor of the wage gap.
Lawrence mentions her desire to be liked, and that it’s a part of her personality she’s trying to change. I also have a desire to be liked. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I get a natural high off of creative collaboration, and at the heart of those relationships is a genuine like and respect for the person or people I’m working with. These days I find I’m less and less able to respect the guys who can’t or won’t see the discrimination I’m dealing with. I mostly attribute their complacency to busyness, but I harbor a fear that they turn a blind eye to my situation so they won’t have to do anything about it. In short, their inaction makes me not like them, which is a state of affairs I’m wholly uncomfortable with. I don’t like not liking people.
I take heart in the cultural changes that are underway right now. As I read Lawrence’s essay, every frank conversation I’ve ever had with a guy in charge that cost me an opportunity made me feel retroactively empowered rather than foolish. It’s a huge relief when someone speaks the truth about the inequality that women face. I’m grateful every time someone acknowledges the problem, even more so when someone begins a national discussion. These are not easy things to do.
On a positive note, there is an upside to gender discrimination. When you give a group of talented people very little to work with, over time they become adaptable, resourceful and more creative. Women writers, directors, actors and comedians are kicking ass right now because they have an astounding work ethic, and they’re exceptionally nimble. There’s a richness and depth to their creativity that comes from time spent watching and waiting in the wings. The next step is encouraging women to sit down with the guys and negotiate a righteous deal.
(Read Jennifer Lawrence’s essay in Lena Dunham’s Lenny.)