Behind the Glass – Women Producers and the Quiet Struggle for Authority in Music
- Brainz Magazine
- 7 hours ago
- 6 min read
Written by Isabelle Veser, Music Producer
I'm Isabelle Veser, a French-German-Greek EDM producer, singer, and songwriter based in Cologne. I've collaborated with international artists like Luca Testa, Van Snyder, Millean, and Burak Yeter. After performing at Canadian Music Week and Rotterdam School Festival, I'm excited to bring my music to the U.S. this year.
The control room in music production has long been a male-dominated space, but women producers are pushing through the glass. However, increased visibility doesn't always equate to true authority. In this article, we delve into the quiet struggles women face in the studio, facing gendered assumptions, emotional labor, and unequal recognition. Real change requires more than symbolic gestures, it requires structural shifts in how the industry views and supports women’s leadership.
The room where decisions are made
The control room is small. Cables snake across the floor, coffee cups balance dangerously on speaker cabinets, and the air hums with low frequencies and unspoken hierarchies. This is where decisions are made about sound, direction, budgets, credits, and careers.
For decades, this room has looked largely the same: men behind the desk, men behind the gear, men making the final calls. Today, more women are entering this space as producers. Their presence is no longer exceptional, but it is still far from normalized.
Women producers are no longer invisible. But they are often questioned, tested, delayed, and filtered through expectations that have little to do with music and everything to do with power. This is the story of that contradiction.
Visibility is not the same as power
On paper, the music industry likes progress. Diversity initiatives are announced. Panels discuss inclusion. Social media celebrates “female producers to watch.” Visibility has improved, no doubt about it. But visibility does not equal authority.
Many women producers describe the same experience: being invited into rooms without being fully trusted once inside them. Their presence is acknowledged, but their leadership remains conditional. They are allowed to participate, but not always to decide.
Progress, in this sense, has become aesthetic rather than structural.
The producer myth and who gets to embody it
The cultural image of a music producer is still stubbornly masculine. The producer is imagined as technically dominant, emotionally detached, decisive, and confident, sometimes bordering on arrogant. These traits are socially rewarded in men and often penalized in women.
When a man asserts authority in a studio, it is read as confidence. When a woman does the same, it may be labeled difficult, emotional, or controlling.
This double standard shapes interactions long before the first note is played.
Women producers frequently report being mistaken for assistants, vocalists, managers, or interns. Even with credits, experience, and technical mastery, they often have to explain their role repeatedly. Authority, it turns out, is still gendered.
Proving competence again and again
One of the most exhausting aspects of being a woman producer is the constant need to prove legitimacy.
Technical decisions are second-guessed. Creative directions are questioned. Gear knowledge is tested. Mistakes, inevitable in any creative process, are remembered longer.
Men are often allowed to be average and still trusted. Women are expected to be exceptional just to be considered competent.
This pressure creates a hyper-awareness in studio environments. Every move feels performative. Every decision carries weight beyond the music itself.
The result? Less freedom to experiment. Less space to fail. And failure, in creative work, is often where innovation begins.
Male support: Real, necessary, and often inconsistent
It is important to say this clearly: many men in the music industry genuinely support women producers.
They open doors, recommend names, offer mentorship, and challenge sexist behavior when they see it. Without these allies, many careers would not exist.
But support is not a fixed state, it is a practice. And too often, that practice stops short.
Women producers frequently describe a pattern: encouragement without commitment. Promises without follow-through. Verbal support that evaporates when budgets tighten, credits are assigned, or power is at stake.
Being told “we’ll work together soon” is common. Seeing that collaboration materializes is less so.
In some cases, support is offered publicly and withdrawn privately. In others, it is tied to emotional labor being agreeable, patient, grateful, and non-confrontational.
Support that depends on compliance is not support. It is control disguised as allyship.
When professionalism becomes conditional
Another recurring experience is the subtle erosion of professional boundaries.
Women producers may find themselves navigating situations where their expertise is acknowledged only as long as they remain pleasant. Discomfort arises when boundaries are set about unpaid work, unclear credits, or inappropriate comments.
Refusing these dynamics can have consequences. Opportunities quietly disappear. Communication slows. Invitations stop coming.
The message is rarely explicit, but it is clear: access is conditional.
Being present but not heard
Dismissal in the studio rarely looks dramatic. It operates through small gestures. Ideas are ignored until repeated by someone else. Technical instructions are double-checked. Decisions are discussed around, rather than with, the woman leading the session.
Sometimes, women producers are physically present but socially sidelined, excluded from late- night sessions, informal networking, or post-session conversations where future plans are shaped.
Power often moves quietly. So does exclusion.
Broken promises and invisible labor
The music industry runs on informal agreements. Trust, reputation, and word-of-mouth matter as much as contracts. For women producers, this informality can be risky.
They are often asked to “prove themselves” through unpaid or underpaid work, with the promise of future opportunities. These opportunities frequently remain theoretical.
Credits disappear. Contributions are minimized. Projects move forward without acknowledgment. Challenging this behavior can label a woman as difficult. Accepting it reinforces exploitation. Either way, the cost is high.
The illusion of unlimited opportunity
There is a persistent narrative that success in music is purely merit-based. Talent rises. Hard work pays off.
This narrative ignores how opportunity is distributed. Women producers are often funneled into fewer projects, smaller budgets, and limited genres. When mistakes happen, as they inevitably do, they are treated as evidence rather than an exception.
Meanwhile, male peers are allowed to experiment publicly, fail visibly, and still be trusted with the next opportunity.
Meritocracy sounds fair until you look closely at who gets repeated chances.
The complicated truth about women supporting women
There is a widespread expectation that women in male-dominated industries will naturally support one another. Reality is more complex.
Some women producers describe feeling dismissed or undermined by other women. Competition can replace solidarity, particularly in environments where only a few women are allowed visibility.
This is not a moral failure, it is a structural one. When systems reward tokenism, scarcity becomes internalized. Supporting another woman can feel like risking one’s own precarious position.
Internalized sexism also plays a role. Women, like men, grow up absorbing the same cultural narratives about authority and talent. Some replicate these narratives unconsciously.
Understanding this does not excuse harmful behavior, but it explains why solidarity cannot be assumed. It must be built deliberately.
Emotional labor and the cost of being “easy to work with”
Women producers are often praised for being “easy,” “pleasant,” or “low-maintenance.” These compliments are rarely neutral.
They reflect an expectation that women will manage emotions both their own and others’. They will smooth conflict, absorb tension, and remain agreeable under pressure.
Assertiveness risks backlash. Anger is rarely tolerated. Directness is softened to avoid being labeled aggressive. This emotional labor is invisible, unpaid, and exhausting.
Technology, genre, and gendered assumptions
Production remains deeply tied to technology, and technology is still culturally coded as male.
Women producers in genres like hip-hop, electronic music, or rock often face intensified scrutiny. Their technical knowledge is tested. Their authorship is questioned.
Even with identical credentials, women are more likely to be asked to explain their process, justify their choices, or “prove” their technical competence.
These assumptions shape hiring, collaboration, and recognition often unconsciously.
Adapting without disappearing
In response, many women producers adapt strategically. Some build independent studios to maintain control. Others form collectives or communities. Some diversify into education, sound design, or creative direction.
Success is redefined not only as visibility or income, but as sustainability, autonomy, and mental health.
Resilience becomes a skill set. But resilience should not be the price of participation.
What real change would require
Change cannot rest on individual endurance. Men in positions of power must move beyond symbolic gestures. Real support means sharing resources, honoring commitments, assigning credits fairly, and stepping back when necessary.
Women supporting women must be encouraged structurally, not through guilt, but through systems that reward collaboration rather than competition.
The industry must also question its myths: that leadership looks one way, that authority sounds one voice, that talent follows gendered patterns. Music does not.
Conclusion: Beyond proving worth
Women producers do not need more panels about empowerment. They do not need permission to exist. They need trust. Follow-through. Fairness.
The goal is not to replace one hierarchy with another, nor to romanticize struggle. It is to reach a point where presence does not require justification and where the room where decisions are made finally reflects the diversity of the music it creates.
Until then, the glass remains not soundproof, but thick enough to distort voices.
Read more from Isabelle Veser
Isabelle Veser, Music Producer
Isabelle Veser has been passionate about making music since childhood. Determined to prove that women can succeed in the male-dominated EDM scene, she began producing, composing, and singing her own tracks in 2022. Her style blends Mainstage, Big Room, and Techno, though she enjoys working across all genres. With discipline and perseverance, she has built a growing career in music. She now helps other artists develop their own sound and navigate the industry.
