The blind spots within

Sheryl Sandberg once wrote about an incident from her early days at Facebook. There was a floor reserved exclusively for directors, where there were no restrooms for women. Not because anyone opposed the idea — but because no one had imagined a woman would rise to that level. It was not hostility, but the soft silence of assumption. This, in essence, is how unconscious bias operates: quietly, invisibly, and often without intent.

It is far more pervasive than open prejudice. It does not walk in announcing itself; it seeps into our choices disguised as instinct.

Some of the most damaging kinds of favouritism is almost innocent — the kind that arises from unconscious bias. No doors are slammed. No words are spoken. Yet someone is quietly not considered or included. To the decision-maker, it may even feel perfectly fair.

I was reminded of this recently during my visit to Sydney, where I addressed a warm and vibrant Tamil gathering. As soon as the programme ended, I rushed to the airport in the same attire I had worn on stage — my favourite sari, a pottu, and slippers without heels. The organisers had booked me in business class, and check-in went smoothly.

At the gate, an airline employee took one glance at me and directed me towards the economy class without checking my boarding pass. Only at the aircraft door did another crew member gently redirect me. I did not need to ask why. My profile — a South Indian woman travelling alone, in traditional attire with an unbranded handbag — simply didn’t match her mental picture of a business class passenger. I recall Sudha Murthy narrating a similar experience. She was waiting to board an international flight in the business class passenger line. She was dressed simply, and a couple of fellow women passengers behind her asked her to switch to the economy queue. They felt that they are rendering a helping hand to a passenger!

The Sydney airport incident did not offend me. But it made me think. If these assumptions exist in others, do any such layers lie quietly within us too?

Remnants of bias are in all of us — carried through culture, upbringing, fears.

A recent incident involving actor Gauri Kishan revealed how deeply unconscious bias prevails. At a film press meet, a YouTuber casually asked the hero, “What was the heroine’s weight when you lifted her for that shot?” Gauri immediately objected, but a few reporters kept interrupting her, determined to drown her voice, defending the question.

In their world of beliefs, such questions about women were normal — even acceptable. It would never occur to them to treat a man in the same way. Their confidence came from conditioning not cruelty. That is the quiet danger of unconscious bias: it makes the unreasonable appear reasonable.

In workplaces, this bias influences hiring, promotions, and leadership opportunities. Organizations need inclusive policies and continuous reflection to ensure fair treatment and equity in preparing the floor for all employees to raise to their potential.

Thiruvalluvar’s chapter Therindhu Vinayaadal – Art of Right Choice – is as good as an HR hiring guidebook especially couplet 515:

“Arindatri Cheygirparkku Allaal Vinaidhaan

Sirandhaanendru Evearpaart Randru.”

Make competence the basis of your choice — not the

Preferences or partialities of the hirer.

Unconscious bias whispers: favouritism follows. To hear that whisper, and question it, is the first step towards a fairer world — one where ability shines sans prejudices.