Until it glares too brightly, casting long shadows that (seemingly) obscure other people. It is said to be a cardinal rule that must never be broken. I refer you to the first of The 48 Laws Of Power by Robert Greene: ‘Never outshine the master.’ There’s a name for it. Tall poppy syndrome.About 2,500 years ago, Tarquin the Proud, Rome’s 7th and final king, ruled by treaty and fear. Sign up to fall under his control, or else. Gabii, a city, declined with a ‘no thank you.’ They were attacked, but simply wouldn’t fall. Frustrated, Tarquin turned from siege to subterfuge, sending his son Sextus as a Trojan horse. Sextus posed as a refugee, claiming to flee his despotic father, and was taken in. Once settled, Sextus sent a messenger to Rome with a single question: what now?Tarquin received the messenger in his garden. His answer. He walked in silence among his flowers, striking off the heads of the tallest poppies with his stick as he listened. Something clicked. The messenger returned with descriptive words that Sextus understood perfectly. He was to eliminate Gabii’s most powerful and influential men, the tallest poppies in that garden. One by one, they were removed. Stripped of its wisest citizens, Gabii surrendered to Rome without a fight.Australians and New Zealanders gave it its modern name. Scandinavians codified its spirit in the Law of Jante: do not think you are special. Do not think you are better than us. It comes from the Danish-Norwegian writer Aksel Sandemose who coined it in his 1933 novel, A Fugitive Crosses His Tracks. Africans need no translation; we are fluent in ‘who does she think she is.’ I am because we are aka Ubuntu dictates success as a communal achievement.The tall poppy syndrome (TPS) refers to the belief that poppies should grow uniformly without standing out and that if one grows too tall it should be cut down to size to maintain the status quo. It happens across workplaces and industries. So pervasively that even cardiology’s flagship publication felt compelled to weigh in. In a 2024 editorial, the European Heart Journal observed that “many women are being cut ‘down to size’” in the metaphorical poppy gardens of institutions globally.It happens surreptitiously; usually after a major achievement that sets them apart from their peers. It may be anything from an invitation to deliver a lecture, join a working group or committee, chair a meeting or an election to an international council. It may follow a significant award, a landmark project, a byline or publication that travels, a board appointment, or simply a growing recognition among peers. The moment she begins to shine too brightly, the harvest begins.TPS has, for years, existed anecdotally. It was like the wind. People felt it, knew it was there, observed it ruffling their clothes – and other people’s feathers – but it couldn’t be captured for its ephemeral nature. Then Dr Rumeet Billan and Women of Influence dug in. The Tallest Poppy study, the first international research project of its kind, surveyed 4,710 women across 103 countries in 2023. Nearly 9 in 10 respondents (86.8 per cent) reported experiencing the syndrome at work: being penalised, resented, undermined, or diminished because of their achievements. Not despite their achievements. Because of them.“My boss told me that I need to play it small because I’m making others uncomfortable.”“I was openly promised a promotion to the C-Suite and then later told I was too outwardly ambitious/excited for the opportunity, and not promoted. I’m completely checked out, embarrassed, and looking for new jobs now.” “I think it’s mostly out of fear and protection — fear that I want people’s jobs and could do them better if I tried; protection for themselves and their roles because I am viewed as a threat.”The costs were not imaginary. Over 85 per cent reported heightened stress; nearly three-quarters reported that their mental health had suffered. And the study surfaced a finding that should end a lazy narrative for good. The popular story holds that women are their own worst enemies, forever pulling each other down. The data disproves that. Men in leadership positions were the most likely to penalise or undermine women for their success. Women did cut, but mostly sideways, at peers. It seems when denied a chance to grab at higher branches, people learn to compete viciously for the low ones.The most unfortunate finding, though, is what women do next. They disengage from projects. They hold back in meetings. They hide their achievements. They shrink. The tall poppy develops a stoop, taking with her a generation of leadership talent.LinkedIn is notorious for preaching to women in leadership and leadership aspirants that they need to be visible. Books are written about it. Studies are done. The gospel has commandments: Build your personal brand. Post on LinkedIn. Take the keynote. Sit on the panel. Raise your hand. Take a seat at the table. Stop skirting the periphery of your career. Stand up and out. Women are repeatedly told competence alone will not cut it. That careers are built not on what you do, but on who knows what you do. Visibility is also how you get sponsorship, mentorship and access to the C-suite. It is how you get invites to closed rooms. How you tee off at golf. Where deals done in places no one tells you about, happen.
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