The group text did not begin with grand ambitions. It was a mundane back-and-forth about where we, five women who’d once worked at the same magazine together, should meet for drinks. Over time the text chain has become more than just a convenient platform to gossip about our old bosses—it’s evolved into a forum for sharing industry contacts, swapping job tips, and yes, talking hard salary numbers. When I was negotiating a long-term contract last year, I checked with the group: Did the fee seem fair? “That sounds low to me,” texted one. Said another, “I’d aim about 20 percent higher.” I did, and wound up making almost $10,000 more because of it. “Would you consider us a mini whisper network?” I texted recently. My phone buzzed with agreement. “I only have one or two other friends who are open to pay questions,” wrote one member. “I wish it wasn’t so awkward. It’s like rent—no one talks about it!”
Hush-hush by definition, these whisper networks have popped up in Slack channels, Facebook groups, and late-night cocktail gatherings, in fields from entertainment to tech. There are actresses discussing negotiations in private #TimesUp meetings, TV writers and directors listing their wages in an anonymous Google spreadsheet, and Google employees doing the same. The goal is to reveal discrepancies, reduce wage gaps, and help women know their value.
What’s with the secrecy? Well, many consider transparency to be risky. There’s evidence that when women seek or demand equal pay—which often requires some sort of transparency—they face stigma or even retaliation. Privacy affords a safe space for women to share information without the threat of damage to their career.
One such whisper network consists of a handful of young female entrepreneurs who meet once a month over coffee or wine. A few of their members agreed to speak to me as long as I didn’t reveal the name of the group or the names of its leaders. “The premise of the group is that it’s secret,” says member Alexandra Dickinson, 32, the founder of Ask For It, a company that offers negotiation training and coaching. “You can’t find us online, and nobody knows who all the members are. That high degree of confidentiality makes it more comfortable to talk about sensitive subjects like money or growth strategies.”
One member, Julie Sygiel, 30, can put a dollar amount on the value of the group. When she was doing her first crowdfunding campaign for Dear Kate, an activewear line she founded and ran until 2016, she relied on the advice of the network’s resident Kickstarter expert, Samantha Rose, 33, founder and CEO of the kitchenware company GIR: Get It Right. “She told me to call her anytime with questions, day or night, which I did,” Sygiel says. “She taught me how to use a complex add-on tool to manage all the different incoming orders.” Rose’s guidance, Sygiel estimates, netted “at least an extra $40,000” in funding.
Both Sygiel and Rose point out that a group doesn’t necessarily have to be secret to garner big benefits. A few years ago Sygiel attended a workshop for freelance con- sultants organized by members of TheLi.st, a large and well-known (albeit invite-only) network dedicated to connecting women across different fields. “It was the first time I’d been around people who stated their numbers openly, and I found out that my hourly rate was $60 to $190 less than everyone else in the room,” she says. “I changed my fee structure after that, and now earn about 30 percent more because of it.”
Of course, women-centric groups can create an echo chamber if men, who often set higher earnings benchmarks, aren’t included. But Sygiel, who now runs the fashion start-up The Pockets Project, believes the exclusion is part of their network’s strength. “In my experience, men are less likely to ask women for business advice,” she says. “If we were a mixed group, there could be a dynamic of women asking more questions and men providing more advice, which sets up an imbalance.”
Still, Sygiel says, most in her all-female cohort do what she does: consult with guys outside the group. A few years ago, a male friend who ran a start-up commensurate to hers in size and funding told her he’d agreed to take a “very below-market salary” until his company was profitable. “I found out my annual salary was only $2,000 more than his ‘low’ number,” Sygiel says. “It wasn’t until that conversation that I realized it was time to ask my investors for a raise.”
Research shows why we need to get information from our female and male peers. One Harvard University study found that, when industry pay standards were ambiguous, female business students accepted offers that were, on average, $10,000 lower than those extended to their male peers. However, when female students had more information about comparative salaries—i.e., what the men were making—the gender gap in negotiation outcomes disappeared.
Dickinson has a rule to prepare for any monetary negotiation: Ask at least six people in a comparable position—three women and three men—what they are making. “I recently negotiated for a contract role, and all three of the men I spoke to recommended that I ask for 30 percent more than the amount the women suggested that I ask for,” she says. “That helped me determine what to ask for, and I got a much better rate as a result.” Her predominantly female groups proved valuable in connecting her with one of those male sources.
Ultimately, that’s why multiple networks are better than one. “I’m actually part of three or four different groups, and I get something different from each of them,” says Sygiel. Feel free to shop around—organizations such as Ladies Get Paid, Ellevate Network, and The Lady Project host events around the country where you can find local like-minded women in your field. And don’t be shy: “I’ve found that if I say something personal about my business, others in the group will respond in kind,” Sygiel says. “That degree of honesty might otherwise be reserved for a best friend, or no one at all, but when you’re talking to others who have been through the same thing, it’s much more actionable.” And more valuable.
Charlotte Cowles writes the money column My Two Cents for New York magazine’s The Cut.
