The Glue, sorry Women, That Bind… and Get Overlooked

I have written before about a colleague who reached out to me after a meeting because our boss had wiped the floor with me when I dared to pipe up an opinion that was somewhat different to hers. The colleague made me realise she noticed what happened. It wasn’t okay. Her action stopped me from feeling like I was losing the plot.

You know those people at work who somehow just make things happen? The ones who notice the unspoken tension in the team meeting and smooth it over with one well-timed joke. The ones who remember birthdays, fix the PowerPoint font disaster, mediate between departments, and check in when someone looks a bit off.

They’re not chasing the limelight. They’re making sure the lights stay on.

Behavioural scientist Jon Levy calls them “glue employees”,  the unsung heroes who keep teams functioning smoothly, anticipate needs before they’re voiced, and make progress happen without fanfare. As he puts it, “Their priority is progress, not attention.” And you know who these glue people usually are?

Women.

Now, I’m not saying men can’t be glue (though most of them seem to prefer being the hammer). But study after study shows women are more likely to take on what’s known as “office housework”: mentoring new starters, remembering birthdays, calming down Greg from Finance before he explodes again, organising team lunches, writing the notes and summarising them, and making sure nobody cries in the loo after a bad performance review.

It’s the invisible work that keeps teams humming, cultures alive, and leaders looking competent. It’s also the work that rarely makes it onto the performance appraisal form.

Because here’s the rub: most workplaces still reward visibility, not value. They celebrate the loudest voice in the room, the one who “owns” the project, “leads” the meeting, and delivers the presentation, not the one who quietly ensured everyone had the information, encouragement, and caffeine to make it possible.

So the glue gets ignored. Until it cracks.

When a glue employee burns out or leaves, suddenly everyone’s flapping: “Why are things falling apart?” Because, the person who kept everything together was never recognised for doing so, and eventually, even superglue dries up.

And let’s be honest, women are conditioned for this role early. We’re praised for being helpful, accommodating, emotionally intelligent, and “good team players.” We’re told it’s noble to nurture, to anticipate needs, to make others comfortable. Meanwhile, those same traits are dismissed as “soft skills” when it’s time to talk bonuses and promotions.

But those so-called soft skills are the infrastructure of any high-performing team. They’re the oil that keeps the organisational machine from grinding to a halt. And if the pandemic taught us anything, it’s that emotional intelligence, empathy, and adaptability aren’t fluffy, they’re essential.

So why are women still paying the price for being the glue? Because most performance systems are designed around individual contribution, not collective impact. They measure outputs, not outcomes. They ignore the subtle, relational work that transforms “a bunch of people” into a team that actually functions.

Imagine if we started measuring leadership by who made it possible for others to succeed rather than who hogged the airtime. Imagine if bonuses went to those who built psychological safety, reduced friction, or helped others shine.

Some companies are catching on. But most are still trapped in outdated metrics that reward the show ponies while the workhorses hold the fort.

So here’s my plea to leaders: look around your team and find your glue. They’re the ones who always know when the coffee’s running low, who anticipate conflicts before they erupt, who keep morale up without needing a motivational speech. Recognise them. Reward them. Don’t wait until they quit and take the whole culture with them.

And to my fellow glue women: stop mistaking invisibility for virtue. Being good shouldn’t mean being unseen. Progress without recognition isn’t noble. It’s negligent.

And it’s time we all stopped confusing your glue qualities with silence.