How Do You Play the Politics of Likability at Work?

Black Women Share Stories from the Field  

Is it possible to play the game of likability without sacrificing yourself? image credit: Peter Olude

“I had to ass lick and play soft and feminine."

When Onome Esiri, a network engineer, was promoted to lead cloud administrator in her workplace, she didn’t credit just her skills — it came with a side of performance. For Black women, the workplace has never been a level-playing field. By many measures, barriers are steep and one of the most enduring is the struggle to be liked. It’s a truth Black women know too well: Likability isn’t a bonus; it’s often a prerequisite to exist in the room. Where assertiveness is praised in workers of other races and genders, it’s often interpreted as aggression with Black women.   

Studies have confirmed the "angry Black woman" stereotype in the workplace isn’t merely a buzzword but the lived experiences of Black women. This harsh stereotype doesn’t only label Black women aggressive, unlikable and difficult to work with, it also undermines work experience and career growth. Amanda Tayte-Tait, founder and CEO of Multi-Hyphenate Women, an online community that supports Black entrepreneurs, explains likability in the workplace for Black women isn’t about being friendly or sociable but a silent requirement for women to survive in the work environment. “For us, likability is a survival skill. Too often, it’s a silent test we’re forced to pass before our skills get seen.” 

Likability as an Unavoidable Social Currency  

The tightrope of likability doesn’t end with career advancement, it’s also a determinant for who gets through the door during the hiring process. A 2025 Textio report highlights Black women are nine times more likely to receive feedback that isn’t actionable, after a job interview. This statistic might seem abstract, but what it really means is Black women often leave interviews with no roadmap for improvement, just a sense they somehow weren’t the right fit. Tayte-Tait’s and Onome's experiences mirror this pattern. “Skills should speak loudest, but in many spaces, likability decides whose skills get considered,” Tayte-Tait says. “Being liked gets you in the door, but it also means that our competence is doubted by default.” 

The Cost of Playing Along  

One might be led to believe likability in the workplace gets Black women up the corporate ladder even faster than their skills. But the women who have lived it opine otherwise. Far from improving their careers, likability politics strips Black women of authenticity. “Being liked at work is a double-edged sword,” Onome warns. “It might get you up the corporate ladder faster, but it also creates an impostor syndrome for you.”  

Taste-Tait agrees, “There’s little room to just be, we always have to read the rooms, adjust our tone and modulate our expressions. This constant performance costs us something: our authenticity.’’  

Playing Workplace Politics the Right Way 

Likability politics cannot be ignored. But is there a way for Black women to play likability politics to an advantage? Tayte-Tait 's advice is this: “Build undeniable skills, but do not ignore the politics of being liked. Play both, just never lose yourself in the process. And more importantly, find ways to cultivate power outside the room. Workplace politics becomes less about begging for a seat at the table when you've built a table of your own.”  

Esiri agrees but she sees it as temporary leverage: “Take advantage of being liked, until you achieve your goal or attain some authority. Afterwards, any other policies, ideas or actions you want to implement can then go forward.”  

From the hiring side, Tayte-Tait is working to change the narrative of “culture fit” hires among Black women. “When hiring, I look at compatibility, not performative likability. I care if the person can collaborate, communicate, and bring respect into the room. For me, that's the only kind of likability that matters.”