What's missing from conversation about women in tech? Men

MOUNTAIN VIEW, Calif. -- Years ago, I had the privilege of working in the office next door to Anita Borg at Western Research Laboratory.

Anita was my best friend at the company — super smart, and an avid feminist. I remember when she corrected me for referring to the women's volleyball game as "girls' volleyball."

"You don't call it boys' basketball, do you?" she asked. "So why would you call it girls' volleyball?"

No one had ever called attention to the ways that I reinforced stereotypes without thinking. But Anita did.

She committed her life to the fight for equality, and believed teams could not reach their full potential unless they included a multitude of voices.

This week, nearly 8,000 women will arrive in Phoenix for the Grace Hopper Celebration of Women in Computing, an event named for the pioneering computer scientist and run by the organization that Anita founded. As a member of the board of the Anita Borg Institute since 2006, I've seen first-hand how events like these provide young women with a community, role models and vital encouragement. But in the conversation about women and technology, there is often something missing: men.

Throughout the past decade, I've spoken to thousands of women about the need to make the technology industry more welcoming. But it's too often all women — I'm preaching to the converted.

Meanwhile, earlier this year, tech companies started to disclose the facts: that men make up more than two-thirds of tech employees, and 76% of leadership roles. But disclosure alone is not enough.

It's not just the raw imbalance that's the problem; it's how it plays out. Research has shown that when a group that is commonly discriminated against speaks up on their own behalf, they can be seen as complaining, and face consequences as a result.

For example, a 2014 study from the University of Colorado found ethnic minority or female leaders who spoke up in favor of diversity were penalized with worse performance ratings than white or male counterparts who did the same.

But there's also evidence that men can be powerful allies. Studies, including one from Rice University, show people who speak up on behalf of a minority group but that are not from that group are often perceived as more credible. While it's frustrating that research like this can seem to reinforce stereotypes, it also underlines the need for men to get involved. Men have as much responsibility — and, arguably, more — to champion efforts to make our workplaces more equal and inclusive. Seriously: Who let us off the hook when it comes to advocating for change?

My two daughters are both interested in computer science (CS). I want them to pursue their interest, but I know that young women — especially those that don't have a parent in tech — face subtle barriers every step of the way that discourage them from moving forward. At the same time, we know that one of the primary drivers motivating women to pursue CS is encouragement.

This is why events like Grace Hopper are important. It's why Google has started programs like Made With Code to encourage more young women to become interested in computer science. And it's why we fund scholarships to help women pursue CS degrees. Creating a community and positive role models goes a long way toward reducing the drag that makes many women cut short their CS careers.

These programs open the door. But once it's open, whose responsibility is it to make these women feel welcome? Why is it that every one of the hundreds of technical woman I've met in my career can easily recall an experience with a male colleague that made her question whether she belonged? Why don't I know any men who say they've ever made anyone feel this way?

It's no secret that men make up the majority in the tech industry. That means it's incumbent on us to support and encourage the ideas and achievements of the women we work with. We know it works — that when male allies confront prejudice on women's behalf, it can change behavior. If we don't take action, then we're failing not only our female colleague but ourselves — because we also know that more diverse workplaces are more innovative and, ultimately, more successful.

We're making progress.

After years of decreased enrollment in computer science, women now make up nearly 40% of CS classes at top universities such as Carnegie Mellon University and Harvey Mudd College. In four years, women will be graduating from universities in great numbers ready to join companies like Google.

But it's up to all of us — especially men — to make sure that when they get there we are ready for them — and that they are valued.

Only then will these brilliant and talented women cease to be "female engineers" and be recognized for what they are: engineers.

Alan Eustace, Google's senior vice president of search, is on the board of the Anita Borg Institute.