The gay glass ceiling still hasn’t been shattered
Corporate America likes to believe it’s moved past bias. But it still has a very specific idea of what authority looks like, and it’s deeply masculine. This is a complex issue most men contend with—and it’s even murkier for gay men. Especially for those who are out at work.
For gay men, workplace success has always been contingent on performing the “right” kind of gayness. The palatable kind; one that blends easily into existing leadership culture: Clean-cut, composed, confident without being expressive, and careful never to appear “too gay” in how one speaks, dresses, or leads. In short, masculine.
This dynamic is shaped by unstated cultural hierarchies of sexuality. These hierarchies are informal, powerful ideas about which kinds of gayness are seen as “professional,” “authoritative,” or “leadership-ready,” and which aren’t. Recent DEI program rollbacks, rising anti-LGBTQ sentiment, and record levels of hostile legislation exacerbate this existing tension.
Being openly gay is a complicated minority experience—largely because many people aren’t openly out. Experts estimate that 83% of those who identify on the LGBTQ spectrum keep their orientation hidden.
Being out at work is even more complex. “If you’re out, you’re more likely to be discriminated against than you’re not out—about three times more,” says Brad Sears, distinguished scholar at the University of California, Los Angeles and founder of its School of Law Williams Institute, which researches policy around sexuality and gender. Research from 2024 reports that nearly half of LGBTQ employees are not out to supervisors, and that 47% of LGBTQ workers have experienced harassment or discrimination of some sort because of their sexuality.
The type of discrimination he’s talking about isn’t often overt homophobia. It’s a subtle barrier known as the “gay glass ceiling”: the unseen force that limits advancement for out gay men, quietly favoring those who perform the “right” kind of masculinity.
Implicit Bias in Action
This past summer, Jerry was up for a managerial promotion at what he thought was a progressive tech company, where he still currently works. After several years, strong reviews, and a good rapport with leadership, he assumed he’d be a shoo-in. Instead, a younger colleague who had been there only two months became his manager. (Jerry spoke to Fast Company under a pseudonym to protect against potential retaliation.)
Jerry did get a promotion of his own soon after, along with higher pay and responsibilities, but organizationally it was a lateral move, which was disappointing. “I was excited to finally get some managerial experience,” Jerry says.
He suspects this choice was due to his sexuality. He doesn’t identify as particularly feminine, but assumes others see him that way. “I’m what you’d call ‘flamboyant’,” he deadpans. “People know I’m gay when I open my mouth.”
Jerry’s a self-assured man who’s exactly what we’re told we should be—ourselves—but has since worried this means people don’t take him seriously.
That concern was validated when a C-suite leader told Jerry’s colleague, Laura (also a pseudonym), that while “they all” liked Jerry and valued his contributions, they wanted someone more “authoritative.” Laura has worked closely with Jerry for four years. He’s a “strong, decisive leader,” she tells me.
Unfortunately, research supports Jerry’s hypothesis. A 2023 study published in the journal Sex Roles found that both heterosexual and gay men prefer masculine-presenting men, regardless of their sexuality, for leadership positions. That probably shouldn’t be surprising, especially in our current society, which increasingly prizes a very narrow view of traditional masculinity.
“Society seems to assume that a higher degree of masculinity equates to a leader,” says Ryan Federo, a lecturer at Universitat Autònoma de Barcelona in Spain, who has studied LGBTQ related topics in the upper echelons of business.
Gay men aren’t the only LGBTQ+ workers running into a similar roadblock at work, either. Federo published a blog in July 2024 identifying a “rainbow glass ceiling” that prevents LGBTQ individuals from reaching top corporate positions, including board membership. He pointed out how in 2023, out-LGBTQ+ individuals occupied less than 1% of available board seats.
The Trickle-Down of “Acceptable” Gayness
In 2020, the Supreme Court ruled in Bostock v. Clayton County that Title VII of the Civil Rights Act protects LGBTQ employees from workplace discrimination. On paper, the question of whether gay men can work without bias is settled. But there’s a concept in play here called “hegemonic sexuality”: the dominant, idealized, and often unquestioned norms for sexual orientation, behavior, and identity within a culture.
“If you’ve ever heard someone described as being ‘too gay,’ you already understand the concept of hegemonic sexuality,” explains sociologist Travis Speice, who studies sexuality and gender.
“This hierarchy is entirely subjective, yet over repeated interactions, groups of people come to agree—often implicitly—on which forms of sexuality are socially desirable. Gay men and straight men police one another. Whether they’re consciously aware of it is almost beside the point. The key thing is that it happens.”
It shows up in vague performance feedback—someone being told they’re “not quite leadership material,” that they lack “gravitas,” or that they should be “more polished,” without anyone ever naming what, exactly, needs to change.
“Because research shows that ideas about professionalism and masculinity often go hand in hand,” he says, “expressions that are seen as ‘too gay’ are also more likely to be labeled ‘unprofessional.’” This is precisely what Jerry believes happened to him, even at a progressive company that hasn’t rolled back its DEI programs.
“We’ve often looked to the federal government as a strong protector for workers’ rights to be free from discrimination and harassment,” says Sears. But “that has shifted significantly in the first year of the Trump administration.”
When President Donald Trump came into office for his second term, one of his first executive orders was rescinding Obama-era Executive Order 13672, which had explicitly prohibited discrimination based on sexual orientation and gender identity for federal employees and contractors.
Still, there seems to be somewhat of a concerted effort from the administration to paint itself as LGB—if not necessarily LGBTQ—friendly. A New York Times feature entitled Donald Trump’s Big Gay Government highlights the gay men who have successfully climbed the administration’s corporate ladder. At first glance, it telegraphs that you can be gay and successful. Upon closer inspection, the pattern is striking: they are overwhelmingly white, conventionally masculine, and visually coded as “authoritative.”
“Close cropped haircuts. Windowpane suits. Golf shorts,” the article states. “They’re not the type to be telling anyone their pronouns or using the word ‘queer.’”
It’s the corporate version of masc-for-masc: you can be gay, as long as you’re still reliably “a man.”
Individual Success Doesn’t Equal Structural Equity
I asked many gay men on social media and in professional groups whether being gay had hindered their careers. Some, like Jerry, said yes. Others insisted that success is about performance, not sexuality—that being gay doesn’t matter as long as you deliver results.
On the surface, that belief is sincere: it reflects some men’s individual lived experiences of advancement and resilience. But, as Speice explained to me, it can also obscure broader patterns. Job performance is often measured against traditionally masculine norms—authority, restraint, and credibility—that shape whose work is taken seriously in the first place.
“It’s often easier to embrace the American ‘bootstraps’ success story than to acknowledge the historical and structural barriers that shape people’s opportunities,” he says.
“I think this becomes clearer if we replace the word gay with another marginalized identity,” Speice continues. “Saying ‘I’m successful despite being gay’ starts to sound a lot like ‘I’m successful despite being a woman,’ or ‘despite being Black,’ or ‘despite having a disability.’ An individual person can absolutely succeed, but the broader pattern still shows that these identities are treated as obstacles rather than neutral or valued traits.”
This made me think back to a 2014 Time magazine piece, written by an executive who said being gay hadn’t held him back—but he also acknowledged his advantages: a supportive family, coastal geography, being male, and being white. But he also looked the part: conventionally masculine, composed, and culturally legible in a way that made his sexuality unlikely to challenge authority. The headshot reinforced the point: a conventionally masculine visage that doesn’t ruffle any feathers.
Broadening Masculinity . . . and Leadership
When advancement depends on performing the “right” kind of gayness—shaped by hegemonic sexual norms—organizations don’t just hamper individual workers. They also limit the range of leadership styles available to them. They trade collaboration, creativity, and psychological safety for a more rigid exercise of authority.
But awareness matters. Understanding how these implicit machinations, cultural expectations, and political currents shape perceptions of leadership can help us challenge them. It can invite us to value diverse expressions of masculinity, create space for diverse voices, and recognize that anyone can wield authority effectively, so long as they have the right skill set.
“Employers should ensure that all workers feel a genuine sense of belonging in the workplace. Conducting annual staff surveys can help surface how employees experience their work environment. But leaders must be prepared to truly listen and make responsive changes based on what they hear,” Speice says.
He also suggested auditing company policies to see whether they require workers to fit into narrow boxes or unintentionally marginalize some team members, as well as examining how bias can creep into hiring and promotion practices. “This goes beyond what is written in policy documents,” Speice says. “‘Talking the talk’ without ‘walking the walk’ does not cultivate belonging.”
The question isn’t whether gay men can succeed at work. Many do.
The question is whether we can broaden our definitions of success—and allow a broader range of people, perspectives, and leadership styles to thrive.