Reaching for the silicon ceiling Ha'aretz July 24, 2000 Some women who work in high-tech give up maternity leave and take the children with them on business trips; others prefer to work part-time. Whatever they do, the gender gap still persists. By Michal Palti In the high-tech market, it's called "marcom." In a field where time is the most valuable resource, it comes as no surprise that every job definition is combined and shortened - and becomes an internationally accepted term. And thus marketing and communications, which is usually a woman's job, has easily been turned into a catchy new word. If the job were usually the province of men, it would probably have been left in its longer version, with the addition of "president for" or "vice president for." Is it only by chance that the word contains within it the two fields that are considered "feminine" in high-tech? It depends on whom you ask. High-tech is considered a masculine field, because the overwhelming majority of those working in it are men. At the forefront of the field are the technical professions, taught in high school science tracks, during military service, and in university departments of computers and physics. Even though more women choose high-tech professions today than in the past, they are still a minority. Work habits in this sector, including long working hours and sometimes frequent trips abroad, make it even more difficult for women to find a place in it. A woman who works in high-tech and wants to start a family must immediately get involved in a system of juggling the two careers: motherhood and work. Women can in fact choose to slow down the pace for a few years, but this choice doesn't necessarily make their life easier. Definitive statistics can be found in a recent study by Dr. Dalia Rachman-Moore and Dr. Nira Danziger of the school of business administration of the College of Management - Academic Studies Division, in Rishon Letzion. Men who graduate from the school of business administration and have exactly the same qualifications as women who took the course, garner many more of the senior executive positions in the job market. Some 35 percent of the men who studied business administration attained high positions, as opposed to 20 percent of the women even though the women had better final grades (an average of 78 for women, as opposed to 76 for men). Another conclusion of the study is that the higher the seniority at the job, the greater the gap between the sexes (41 percent of men in high executive positions, as opposed to 29 percent of women). This statistic has an encouraging side as well - the younger in age, the smaller the gap. Mommy lives at work Dr. Dorit Dor, 33, from Hod Hasharon, married with two children (aged 6 and 11), vice president for products at Checkpoint, admits hat she is a workaholic. "When I accepted the fact, my conscience stopped bothering me," she says. "I know that if I don't work as I want to, I'll be miserable." Dor says that her friends, working women who are also mothers, are divided into two groups: those who slowed their pace of work after giving birth, and those who continued to work with the same intensity as before, but suffer from pangs of conscience. In high school, Dor studied in the physics track ("two girls in a class of 20 boys"), then studied mathematics and computer sciences at the university ("there the gap between the sexes was even greater"). Afterward, she did her compulsory army service, and served with Shlomo Kramer and Gil Schwed, founders of Checkpoint. Two years after the army, she finished her doctorate, gave birth to her first son, and accepted Kramer's offer to join Checkpoint, which then had 15 workers. "When Shlomo recruited me to the company, I told him that my situation had changed, that I didn't know what it was like to work with a child. 'It will be okay,' he promised," Dor recalls. Dor comes home at 6 P.M. twice a week; on the other days, she works unlimited hours. "I travel abroad often, and there are days when I get home after midnight, but I devote weekends to the children. One of her son's first sentences was: 'Mommy lives at work.' People asked me if I wasn't shocked to hear that - and I answer that I survived. My husband is also in high-tech, and comes home earlier twice a week. The rest of the time the children are in daycare or with a nanny." Dor didn't take maternity leave. "I gave birth on a Thursday, and on Sunday, I already attended a meeting at the office," she says. "I don't see myself taking long vacations, because I don't enjoy myself without work. Recently I traveled to the Far East for work, with my husband and my son; I worked for four days, and then we spent time having fun. It was a vacation in every sense." Dor claims that she sees no differences between women and men in high-tech. She says there are jobs that demand working late hours (mainly because of the workday in the United States, which begins at 6 P.M. Israel time), and there is an intensive schedule that promotes fast product development. "If a man or a woman wants to work until 3 P.M. every day, he or she can do that," she says. Dor says that recently she recruited a worker in her fourth month of pregnancy for an important job. "It's true that there was a cloud of uncertainty, but she was suited for the job, and I didn't hesitate," she says. When she was invited to a forum for women in high-tech, she refused to participate. "I don't feel it's important. I was always in places where I wanted to be, even if I was in the minority," she says. Drop in the bucket Ruth Rabin, 48, manager of the human resources department at Intel headquarters in Haifa, tries to combine motherhood and a career as much as possible. Married with four children, the oldest 25 and the youngest 12, she lives in Moshav Hayogev. "I always worked in a house full of children," she says. As opposed to Dor, she is aware of the price women in high-tech have to pay, and tries as much as possible to lower it. Rabin works in a classical marcom job, and she's proud of it. Because of her seniority in the field, her approach and the benefits she gives the workers have been adopted by other high-tech companies as well. Rabin started out as a social worker. After completing her master's degree in 1991, she started to work in the company's human resources department, and within three years became manager. "The high-tech sector introduced different values into the job market, but as far as hours are concerned, there are myths as well. So many Intel workers go home at 5 P.M. that it's hard to get a taxi in the area at that hour. Nurses and bank clerks don't work fewer hours than I do. There are times when we stay later, but that's true of any job. "In my opinion, high-tech affords women flexibility. When mothers or mother-to-be come for an interview, they are worried. But this worry disappears when they see the women who work for us. In my department there are only women, all mothers of small children, who want bigger families. And they all take maternity leave of half a year and more, and know that they will be welcomed back at work. We don't differentiate at all between the sexes - neither in job offers, nor in choosing who will fill certain positions. The salaries are equal, and there are women in administration and among the senior executives." There is a daycare center next door to Intel, to which many workers bring their children. "The workers, including men, enjoy bringing their children from the center to the office, to spend another relaxing hour with them, and only then to travel home," says Rabin. "I would like to make things even easier for the women who work here: I would like the company to have a daycare center, laundry services, more flexibility in work hours. I believe that we will get there soon, and that will allow more women to work in the field." Such activity is welcome in the eyes of researchers Danziger and Rachman-Moore, but they claim that it's only a drop in the bucket. "The basic conditions have to change," says Rachman-Moore. "A woman who takes maternity leave, and was earning a certain amount, has to decide whether she wants to continue to work full time and to earn the same salary, or to work part time, to earn less, and to delay her promotion. It a system of decisions which is hard to deal with." Some women deal with the difficulties by starting their own high-tech companies. This is evident in a study by Nira Boneh of the Technion, who wrote her master's thesis on women who launch high-tech firms. She interviewed about 20 such women, most of whom (about 40 percent) chose the field as a result of disappointment with previous career paths. An additional motive was the desire to combine motherhood and a career, and to create a flexible work schedule. According to Boneh's study, women who start high-tech companies place an emphasis on the field of human resources in the companies they manage. The next male stronghold Rachman-Moore is not surprised by the increase in the number of women who have found their place in high-tech in recent years. She says that the phenomenon is similar to the increase in the number of women studying law and medicine. "These women are well paid, and can afford to pay for household help," she says, "but while they are joining the world of high-tech, a new field of work, which is prestigious and male-dominated, is being created - biotechnology." Rachman-Moore claims that soon women will become involved in this flourishing field, but they will have to fill in the gap of the years they missed. One woman who is already working in the field is Nili Beck, 33, who heads a team for development of algorithms at Compugen, which is involved in human genome research. Like Dor, Beck studied at university before her army service, majoring in computer sciences, and she too joined the high-tech track at a relatively early age. In the army, she worked with computers, and at the same time studied for her M.A. in computer sciences. Today she is writing her doctorate, and together with her husband, raising their two-year-old daughter. Beck, who studied in the science track in high school, also sees no differences between the sexes in high-tech. She doesn't even think that combining motherhood and a career involves difficulties, mainly because she is satisfied with working 80 percent of the week rather than full time; she devotes the rest of the time to her daughter and to writing her doctorate. Beck took maternity leave, and after three months returned to work gradually. "Since I had a baby, my life has changed," she says. "I chose a job that demanded fewer hours, and it suits me. With a supportive partner, one can do anything." Beck claims that she pays no attention to the sex of the new workers she recruits. "A person has to be professional, and just as important - nice. At the moment, my team includes a man who is working on his doctorate, and a woman with a baby. For me, there is no difference between them," she says. Gifts for a clean conscience Aliza Tamir, manager of the department of customers and business partners at Microsoft Israel, deals almost daily with the problem of balancing motherhood and a career. She is 35, married and a mother of three daughters, aged 6, 4, and 8 months ("and I still want more," she laughs), and lives in Moshav Herut. "I started working in Microsoft 11 years ago," she says. "I left a successful firm with many young people, in order to work in marcom at Microsoft. I was then 22, most of my girlfriends were working as waitresses and traveling abroad, and I was working overtime at Microsoft. The company grew and I became a sales manager in the wholesale field. "The first two times I took maternity leave, I didn't cut myself off from work: I held meetings at home with the staff, and I was getting e-mail from the office all the time. Only during the last leave did I manage to cut myself off, and I enjoyed that very much. I transferred authority to someone else, and it was very pleasant, but the change is of course connected to self-confidence, and to my seniority at the firm. In the past, if there was a big exhibition and I was on maternity leave, I couldn't sit quietly. It's a very distressing feeling." Tamir admits that it's very hard to balance home and work. "My husband, who is self-employed, believes in equality, and shares the burden with me. When my baby was two months old, I traveled to a course in Seattle with my husband and the baby. It wasn't complicated, but everyone around me was surprised. My husband understood that it was important, and urged me to go, even though he knew that he would have to take care of the baby when I was busy. I appreciate that very much, and people's reactions only made it clear to me how unusual such a situation is," she says. Tamir claims that she hasn't encountered discrimination against women in the company where she works. "Only recently, I decided to offer an important position to a female worker who was about to ive birth, and was very suited for the job," says Tamir. A week later the woman gave birth. "It's true that it's harder for women in this field, but I don't give in, and I'm trying to teach my daughters to behave the same way - never give up, in spite of the problems." Tamir also speaks of the emotional difficulty of dealing with her double role. "When we moved to another house recently, I threw out a whole box of presents for the children. I call them 'guilty conscience presents,'" says Tamir. "All around me, I see couples who work in high-tech, where the woman is always the one who makes the sacrifices - she comes home early, and starts working the second shift. It's a social convention that is very convenient for the man; sometimes I wonder if this race is really worthwhile." Even if Tamir is dealing admirably with the race, there are women for whom the rules are unfamiliar, and sometimes they don't even try to compete. Rabin says that in the United States, the birthplace of the politically correct, a trend to reduce workdays in high-tech is beginning to filter down. And when will the change come here? Probably, as usual, a decade from now.