Should we still pucker up at work events?

So where are we up to on kissing in the workplace?

That might seem a redundant question given #MeToo and the furore over that Spanish soccer boss, but worth thinking about now that we’re back at conferences and even business lunches and dinners.

We’re talking the non-sexual peck on the cheek from male professionals which in recent years became almost a routine form of greeting women in some work contexts. The corporate kiss (as opposed to unwanted approaches at Christmas drinks) was respectful, friendly, even a little cosmopolitan, and a result of there being more women in senior roles. A kiss indicated empathy and collegiality and inclusion.

There was a degree of sexism involved, of course, given that men never kissed their male equals. There was always that lingering question of whether a woman’s power and status was diminished when she was publicly greeted with a kiss while her male colleague got a firm handshake? Did the peck on the cheek make you more of a “girl” and less of a boss? Were women being welcomed to the boys’ club and excluded at the same time?

But leaving aside the blurry optics, the professional kiss was by and large well-intentioned, a habit that grew as corporate life became more feminised.

The #MeToo movement obviously made many men step back, rather than lean in, but it is Covid-19 which has probably put the kybosh on embracing semi-strangers when they arrive in the foyer for a business meeting.

President of the Royal Spanish Football Federation Luis Rubiales (R) kisses Jennifer Hermoso of Spain during the medal ceremony of FIFA Women's World Cup. Picture: Noemi Llamas/Eurasia Sport Images/Getty Images

With infection rather than affection now high on the agenda post the lockdowns, there’s an excuse for steering clear of the kiss and just going with the handshake, and that will be a relief for many women - and men.

It certainly takes uncertainty out of the interaction.

Gone is the worry about exactly who you are supposed to kiss, and when; about whether or not to pucker up; about whether the other party is on board or whether your professional gesture will be deemed too personal.

Back in the day (I’m talking 20th century here) corporate men did not go around kissing women in work situations unless they were drunk or trying it on. And Australian men are not great public smoochers, always happy to ridicule European men who kiss each other as well as women. And on both cheeks to boot.

So it was a definite cultural shift when powerful men started kissing powerful women as they strode from the lectern after delivering a speech, for example. It could be tricky. Men risked looking unfriendly or unsupportive or uncool if they didn’t go for it, while women wound up looking stand-offish or worse if they didn’t proffer a cheek. Yet it demanded some precise and rapid judgments from men, especially if the woman was somewhat younger or more junior.

There was room for error on both sides, so a Covid-led standoff lets people off the hook.

Not that a handshake is entirely straightforward. The past few years have delivered such sobering messages to men about appropriate workplace behaviour that there is often anxiety about any physical interaction.

Can too much pressure in a handshake signal sexual interest rather than mere friendliness? Does the double handshake suggest you’re after a dinner date as well as a deal? Is it safer just to cross your arms and nod your head?

Sometimes, of course, the subtext is only too clear, as we’re seeing this week, thanks to Spanish soccer federation president Luis Rubiales, who got it so wrong at the football.

If only he’d stuck with a handshake. Unpacking his unwanted kiss (as well as that other inappropriate gesture) has moved well beyond outrage to a critique of his nation’s machismo. Even allowing for wild stereotyping of the Spanish male, it’s not a good look.

We would appear to be doing much better in this country in trying to sort out gender and sex and power in the workplace — even if there are sometimes egregious mistakes made by both men and women.

A protesters holds a placard during a demonstration called by feminist associations in support to Spain's player Jenni Hermoso, at Callao square in Madrid on August 28, 2023. Picture: Aldara Zarraoa/Getty Images

In some ways, the “corporate kiss” is an example of people attempting, albeit awkwardly at times, to find new ways of relating in a changing work environment.

Some of this was generated by the push to personalise the workplace by allowing employees to “bring your whole self to work”. The idea we could be authentic in the office emerged as more women took on senior positions and had to factor children as well as work into their daily lives. No longer did women have to leave their domestic and private lives and problems at the door. Over time, their outside lives became more visible and companies were encouraged to create more “human” office environments and recognise employees were people too.

Not so surprising then that the collegial peck on the cheek became more common even as men were increasingly called out by the #MeToo movement for bad behaviour in the office.

Kissing colleagues or contacts on the cheek in public was deemed “safe” and non-sexual, at least among women and men of a certain age. If it was awkward at times, the corporate kiss was also very human and some will regret its passing.

Yet a handshake is certainly simpler, signalling a very clear separation between the professional and the personal lives. There’s far less likelihood of gender politics complicating the interaction or of honest misunderstandings, so perhaps we should be grateful if the pandemic finally turns the corporate kiss into simply something that we used to do.