International Women’s Day: Voices That Have Stayed With Us
International Women's Day is an invitation to do more than mark a moment. It asks us to consider what progress actually looks like, who is driving it, and what it still requires. This year, as the International Women's Day campaign calls for reciprocity in opportunity under its theme of "Give To Gain", and UN Women urges rights, justice and action for all women and girls, we have been reflecting on the women whose words have shaped how we think about leadership within the Laidlaw community and beyond.
What follows is a gathering of voices that have stayed with us: from heads of state and global institutions to activists, educators and scholars. Read together, they form something close to a shared argument about what leadership demands, what it costs, and what it makes possible.
The Scale of What Remains
We begin where any honest account of this day must: with the scale of what remains undone. Sima Bahous, Executive Director of UN Women, does not offer consolation. She offers a reckoning.
Her words set the terms for everything that follows. The leaders gathered below are evidence of what becomes possible when people refuse to wait for permission to begin the work that urgency demands.
The Courage To Begin
If Bahous names the scale of what is required, the voices in this section speak to what it takes to act within it, united by a refusal to let scale, seniority or self-doubt become reasons for inaction.
Thunberg and Carter address the internal threshold: that moment before action when doubt is at its most insistent. Carter's words carry particular resonance for the Laidlaw community. Speaking at Brown University during the Laidlaw Scholars Conference last autumn, she invited scholars to abandon the idea that readiness must arrive fully formed before leadership can begin; her argument was that leadership is constructed through the act of beginning, assembled in motion rather than conferred upon those who have first resolved all uncertainty. Okonjo-Iweala and Buchanan turn to the external threshold: the structures that were not built with certain people in mind, and the decision to stop waiting for those structures to change as a precondition for moving.
A Different Kind of Authority
Leadership is not a fixed form, and several of the voices we return to most often are those who have insisted on practising it on their own terms, making the case through their example as much as their words.
Ardern's words carry a quiet provocation: that empathy is among the more demanding forms leadership can take, requiring both conviction and a willingness to absorb the criticism that tends to follow those who practise it openly. Mottley extends the argument; vision without the capacity to draw others into motion remains incomplete, however clearly it is articulated. Together they make the case that authority exercised on one's own terms, grounded in who you are rather than in what convention expects, is a more exacting version of leadership, one that asks more of the person who practises it precisely because it cannot rely on the ready-made authority of precedent.
Collective Resilience and What We Leave Behind
The final group of voices turns outward, towards those around us and those who will follow. They speak to solidarity, to the reasonable scope of what one person can offer, and to the question of what our efforts leave in their wake.
Corboz and her co-authors name something that individual achievement rarely captures: that the shared experience of navigating barriers generates its own form of knowledge, collective in nature and cumulative over time. Keller offers the counterweight to overwhelm that anyone working on a problem of real scale eventually needs: the permission to do something incomplete and still call it worthwhile. Malala turns that same energy forward, towards a future that is made rather than merely awaited. And Parks, whose life constituted its own sustained argument about the long reach of principled action, brings the collection to rest on a note that is less consolatory than clarifying: what we do persists in others, and it is in that continuity that the meaning of the work resides.