Do Black Women Make the Best CEOs? The Hidden Cost of Exceptionalism at Work

When the algorithm presented me with a reel on Instagram claiming that Black women make the best CEOs I stopped to watch and predictably, the comments were filled with celebration and affirmation: “Of course we do.” “Black women are built differently.” “Nobody works harder than Black women.” I understood the instinctive reaction because Black women are so often forced to fight for recognition in professional spaces that any public acknowledgment of excellence can feel validating. But if I’m honest, the statement made me pause rather than celebrate immediately because something about it felt uncomfortable, and the more I reflected on it, the more I realised that my discomfort was rooted in what often sits underneath these conversations about Black women and exceptionalism.

We already know how frequently Black women are expected to overperform simply to receive the same recognition as everyone else. We know about the “strong Black woman” stereotype and the emotional, physical and professional burden that often comes with it. We know about the glass cliff phenomenon where women, particularly women of colour, are more likely to be placed into leadership positions during periods of crisis or instability when the risk of failure is already significantly higher. We know about the persistent reality of Black women being undermined, underpaid, over-scrutinised and routinely expected to prove themselves repeatedly across industries. So when people say Black women make the “best” CEOs, I think it is important to ask deeper questions. What conditions created that outcome? What did Black women have to survive in order to reach those positions? What level of pressure, scrutiny and sacrifice sits behind that perceived excellence?

I found a fascinating study which gave me even more insight into this titled Can Distinction Disguise Discrimination? Examining the Role of Racism and Sexism in CEO Success. One quote in particular stayed with me. According to the study, “female CEOs of colour — who are subject to both gender and racial discrimination — emerged as the best performers, followed by white female CEOs and then men CEOs of colour. White male CEOs, who faced the least discrimination, were among the worst performers.” Another powerful observation from researcher Dr Sonal Kumar stated: “The more discrimination and scrutiny you face, the more you are required to be more capable to reach that position. When we compare male and female CEOs, in a sense, we are comparing extraordinary women with average white males.”

That quote really stayed with me because it reframes the conversation entirely. Black women leaders are not necessarily outperforming because society naturally nurtures or supports their leadership potential. In many cases, they are outperforming because the standards required for them to even access those spaces are far higher to begin with. Black women are often expected to demonstrate near-flawless competence, emotional intelligence, resilience and professionalism simply to be considered worthy of opportunities that others may receive with far less scrutiny. There is often very little room for error and mistakes that might be viewed as learning experiences for others can become career-defining for Black women. Failure is often personalised more harshly, while success is treated as surprising or exceptional rather than expected.

That is why I think conversations celebrating Black women as “the best” can sometimes unintentionally reinforce unhealthy expectations. There is a danger in romanticising resilience without interrogating the systems that made resilience necessary in the first place. I think many Black women are exhausted by constantly being praised for surviving conditions that should never have existed to begin with. Being “strong” is often less a personality trait and more a survival strategy developed in environments where vulnerability, mistakes or mediocrity do not feel safely available.

This is something that becomes particularly visible in corporate leadership spaces. Black women leaders are often expected to perform a difficult balancing act where they must simultaneously appear confident but not threatening. The amount of self-monitoring required to navigate these spaces and expectations can become deeply exhausting over time. Leadership itself already carries pressure but leadership while managing racialised and gendered perceptions creates an entirely different level of emotional labour.

I also think personal branding and professional visibility play a major role in this conversation. Black women in leadership are often navigating workplaces where visibility comes with heightened scrutiny. Their communication styles, appearance, tone and leadership decisions are analysed more intensely than those of many counterparts. This means Black women leaders are frequently required to think strategically not only about performance but also about perception. How will confidence be interpreted? Will directness be viewed as competence or aggression? Will visibility create opportunity or backlash? These are calculations many Black women make instinctively because experience has taught them that visibility is rarely neutral.

At the same time, visibility matters enormously because underrepresentation at leadership level still has significant consequences across industries. When Black women are absent from executive spaces, decision-making spaces and public leadership conversations, organisations lose perspective, nuance and insight that could fundamentally improve workplace culture and innovation. Representation matters not because Black women are magical solutions to broken systems, but because talent, leadership potential and expertise have never been judged fairly and the rewards have not been distributed equally.

I also think there is something deeply important about interrogating why Black women are so frequently associated with labour, endurance and exceptionalism rather than rest, softness or ordinary humanity. Society often celebrates Black women most loudly when they are achieving against impossible odds. We praise the grind, the resilience and the perseverance while paying far less attention to the structural inequalities that created those circumstances. Black women are expected to carry extraordinary amounts while remaining composed and productive throughout. That expectation can become incredibly harmful because it leaves little room for vulnerability or simply being average without judgement.

The conversation around Black women CEOs should therefore not simply become another “Black girl magic” soundbite detached from context. Yes, there are incredible Black women leading organisations, driving change and innovation and transforming industries. Their accomplishments deserve recognition and celebration, of course they do but I think it is equally important to acknowledge the systems that force many Black women to become exceptional simply to survive professionally. Excellence achieved under constant pressure should not distract us from the existence of the pressure itself.

I worry that celebrating Black women as “the best” can sometimes obscure the fact that leadership environments themselves often remain deeply unequal. Organisations may praise Black women publicly while still failing to support them adequately once they enter leadership positions. We have seen repeated conversations around burnout, lack of sponsorshop, pay inequity and the emotional burden carried by women of colour and specifically Black women in senior leadership roles.

I do not think the goal should be proving that Black women are better leaders than everyone else. The goal should be creating professional environments where Black women do not have to be extraordinary simply to be treated fairly and considered capable. True equity would mean Black women having access to leadership opportunities without needing to outperform everyone around them just to justify their presence.

So when people say Black women make the best CEOs, I understand why the statement resonates emotionally but I also think that we need to look beyond the applause and ask harder questions. We need to understand what Black women are required to endure in order to reach those positions in the first place because behind so much of this celebrated “excellence” is often pressure, scrutiny, emotional labour and survival. That is not something we should romanticise it’s something we should be calling out and aiming to change.