Abby (not her real name) was flabbergasted. As the human resources manager of a mid-sized Melbourne-based hospitality group, she found herself explaining to the two male owners the meaning of the term “sexual harassment.” 

“I was talking to them about how the laws were changing, that they were very clear, and that we had to put anti-harassment policies and training in place,” she says. “It devolved into a full-blown screaming match. They were saying things like, ‘I can’t even look at a beautiful woman anymore? Hospitality is dead!’” 

She shakes her head while speaking to me in a Fitzroy pub in the late afternoon. “These are grown men. But they have no idea.”

Grown men, it turns out, are often in these positions of power in Australian hospitality. If you look at the corporate structures of our largest hospitality groups, women hold plenty of middle-management jobs. They are designers, human resource managers, events coordinators. They are women like Abby (who spoke to me on the condition of anonymity), desperately trying to explain the plight of female and queer employees to their male bosses. But the directors, the owners and the ultimate power-holders? They are overwhelmingly men. 

Could it be that this disparity is one of the major factors in the industry’s sexual misconduct problem? When the people who control company finances and policies have no direct experience with the complex fear, confusion and harm that stems from workplace harassment and abuse, is it any wonder that solutions aren’t prioritized? 

There are, of course, exceptions. Swillhouse, which was the subject of a lengthy Sydney Morning Herald investigation about alleged misconduct, has since hired Lisa Hobbs as CEO, replacing Anton Forte – though Forte remains at the company. (In October, SMH also published an article that stated “Corporate records show [Forte] remains the sole director of Swillhouse. His family company, Mangia Questa (Eat This), is the only other shareholder.”) Rebecca Yazbek now heads up Nomad Group solo, after her husband Al Yazbek was removed from the business in October for displaying a swastika at a pro-Palestine rally. 

There are plenty of female owner-operators of single venues, and a few who control small groups. But the powerholders in the larger groups – groups that hold increasing prominence in the Australian dining landscape – are overwhelmingly male. 

The reasons for this are complex, and hard to solve. Like many industries, women in hospitality suffer from advancing to the highest levels because of lack of mentorship, being out of the workforce while having children, and other systemic issues. But if 44% of Australian federal parliamentarians can be women, you’d think that an industry as purportedly inclusive as hospitality might fare just as well. 

That has not been the experience of Jenna Hemsworth, one of the women who came forward about her experiences with Swillhouse. “Honestly, the way women are treated, it’s a fairly unattractive option,” she says. While Hemsworth says it’s better now than it was ten or 15 years ago, when you’d “literally be laughed out the door” if applying for management positions, these days she thinks it’s far more likely that they begin up the ladder only to be thwarted long before they reach the top. 

“The second you’re put into management, a change in behavior happens,” she says. “Subordinates act as though you have to earn their respect, when if it’s a male manager, the title earns the respect – a male manager could lose respect, certainly, but they’re starting from a place where it’s implied by the job. Women aren’t afforded that luxury.” The choice, Hemsworth says, becomes to be the fun, permissive, party girl, in which case you’re not taken seriously, or to be labelled a difficult woman. “That dichotomy – to be perceived as either incompetent or overbearing – pushes women out,” she says. 

Even in spaces in which the resistance to change isn’t so pronounced, the women I spoke to have a sense that many efforts towards making workplaces safer for employees are performative, at best. “Men act as though they can put tampons in the bathroom and they’re heroes,” Hemsworth says. “I really don’t give a fuck about free tampons. I want someone to understand all the mental tax, all the financial and additional hardship women in the industry contend with. But if that’s not your lived experience, you just won’t see it.”

Shannon Martinez, the chef, cookbook author and owner of Smith and Daughters and Smith and Deli in Melbourne, agrees. “There are a lot of wolves in sheep’s clothing out there,” she says. “They act like feminists, they talk the talk. Sometimes they can be the biggest problem because no one would suspect them.” 

Martinez claims that as a woman operator, it’s incredibly hard to find investors. “It is absolutely a boy’s club,” she says. “These guys all went to school together, they’re comfortable, and frankly, they just don’t want us there. Why would they?” 

That leaves female middle managers – the human resources and events coordinators – bearing much of the burden of staff who are desperate for help, while negotiating with men at the top who won’t prioritize needs that they don’t understand. 

“I know of plenty of women who have been hired in those types of roles,” Hemsworth says. “And immediately, it’s like, ‘You’re going to have to write our training program, you’re going to have to write our sexual harassment policy,’ but there’s no real action behind it, and those women are never going to be given the power to create action. They just won’t.”  

What do the restaurant groups in question have to say about their gender disparities? Nothing, it seems. All of the groups I approached either did not respond, or declined interviews – even those with women in senior positions. 

Which is a real shame, because these issues need to be discussed if they are to be remedied. It takes bold action to solve hard problems. Silence is not an answer. And it’s bad for business.

Do I need to spell out all the ways in which female leadership might improve the industry? Let’s start with the obvious: when a female employee has an issue, they have someone to go to who might understand. “They just come straight to me,” Martinez says of how misconduct issues are handled at her restaurant. “I get it; I’ve been there.” 

But beyond protections for vulnerable workers, women at the top are good for business. The American Psychological Association reports that “decades of studies show women leaders help increase productivity, enhance collaboration, inspire organizational dedication, and improve fairness.” Australia’s Workplace Gender Equality Agency reports that “more women in key decision making positions delivers better company performance, greater productivity and greater profitability.” Women in positions of power make for better mentors for female employees, and lead to greater retention – the Centre for Economic Policy Research found that “female employees working under female leaders are seven percentage points less likely to quit their jobs, implying a staggering 56% reduction in quit rates relative to females working under male leadership.”

If I could wish one thing for the Australian hospitality industry in 2025, it would be that this be the year of the woman. I’m not talking about more female head chefs, or star bartenders, or sommeliers – though there’s plenty of room for improvement here, too. Rather, I’d like to see 2025 be the year of the female CEO – and not just those hired in the wake of crisis. I’d like to see women leaders who might bring experience, understanding, and action to the place it’s most needed – the very top of the industry.