This past week, the UK’s hospitality industry has been rocked by an open letter, signed by 70 female chefs, exposing the rampant sexism, harassment, and structural inequality they face daily. The letter, a direct response to comments made by Michelin-starred chef Jason Atherton—who claimed he had “not seen” sexism in restaurant kitchens—lays bare an industry-wide problem that many have known but few have had the power or support to challenge.
While he’s since said the comments were taken out of context, Atherton’s purported dismissal of the issue added fuel to a fire long-burning. Just this month, Michelin Guide released a video “celebrating” women in the industry at their annual awards ceremony before awarding just one woman a star. The disconnect was glaring: the status quo for women in kitchens is to be sidelined, tokenized, or something far worse. And this seems to have been the final straw.
But is it hospitality’s #MeToo moment? The industry has long been resistant to change, despite repeated exposés and high-profile cases of misconduct. Unlike Hollywood, media, or corporate finance—sectors that have seen systemic shifts in workplace culture since 2017—the restaurant world has remained stubbornly stagnant. The kitchen brigade system, which thrives on hierarchy and unchallenged authority, has protected predatory behavior for decades. Tales of abuse in professional kitchens aren’t new, but what makes this moment different is that women are now standing together to demand accountability in a way the industry can no longer ignore.
The accounts detailed in the open letter, spearheaded by London-based chefs Sally Abé of The Pem, Poppy O’Toole of Poppy Cooks and Dara Klein of Tiella, paint a picture far grimmer than being overlooked for awards. Rather, a picture of most women in professional kitchens facing systemic exclusion, harassment, and a culture of intimidation. Many signatories shared experiences of being sexually harassed by male colleagues—stories of inappropriate comments, physical intimidation, and even assault. One chef recalled being pressed against a corner by a sous chef who whispered to her about his erection. Another revealed how her colleagues made bets on who would sleep with her first. Some recounted being denied promotions after refusing advances or being labeled “too emotional” for leadership roles.
Of course, as Hollywood’s #MeToo movement taught us, sexism isn’t always as overt as harassment. It’s also the insidious reality of being treated as lesser, by default. Harriet Mansell, chef-owner of Robin Wylde and Lilac, described the exhaustion of repeatedly convincing guests that she was the chef, not a waitress. Chef consultant Jane Alty had a similar experience when MasterChef edited an episode to make it appear as though her male junior chef was running her restaurant. These examples are symptoms of a wider culture that systematically erases the contributions of women, making it harder for them to gain recognition, mentorship, and career advancement.
A Long-Standing Issue For Women In Hospitality
The idea that sexism in professional kitchens is a thing of the past is laughable, and the backlash against Atherton’s comments reflects years of pent-up frustration. Despite women making up nearly 55% of hospitality workers, they remain a minority in leadership roles. A 2023 report by CODE Hospitality found that only 17% of head chefs in the UK were women—a number that has barely changed over the last decade. The pipeline for female chefs remains broken, not because of a lack of talent, but because of an industry designed to exclude them at every stage.
Sexual harassment and abuse, disgracefully, has a similar trajectory. In 2022, a damning investigation by The Guardian revealed how several award-winning UK chefs had been accused of inappropriate behavior, ranging from groping to coercion. Yet, these stories rarely led to long-term consequences. Men accused of misconduct often quietly return to high-profile jobs, while the women who speak out frequently find themselves blacklisted.
We—and that includes male hospitality workers and patrons as much, if not more, than their female counterparts—can only shout louder to this moment different. Much like the reckoning in Hollywood, the shift will only come when powerful figures are forced to respond, policies are rewritten, and women are no longer treated as an afterthought.
This #MeToo moment isn’t a question of if, but when. Realistically, if the industry fails to act, the movement will gain momentum elsewhere—through public boycotts, legal action, or the slow death of an outdated system that refuses to evolve. The only way forward is to swap silence for action: independent oversight, zero-tolerance policies, and a culture where speaking out isn’t a career killer.
The real question isn’t whether the industry hears this—it’s whether it finally listens.