WHY can’t a woman be more like a man? cried Henry Higgins when faced with unfathomable Eliza Doolittle. He was articulating the age-long incomprehension of men when faced with the seemingly perplexing behaviour of the opposite sex. And while the lyrics in Pygmalion, and later My Fair Lady, were written for comic effect to lampoon the misogyny and snobbery of the Edwardian age, I have no doubt whatsoever that even today, countless fathers, husbands, sons and colleagues secretly echo his complaint.

What happens, though, when women try to live up to Higgins’s ideal? The results, it seems, are mixed. Nicola Sturgeon has confessed that when she first entered politics, she found herself emulating the males she worked with. In a profession driven and dominated by men, in which sexism was rife, it seemed this was the surest way to get on.

Years later, one remembers the accusations pinned to her. When she spoke her mind fearlessly, she was a “nippy sweetie”. The famous “stairheid rammy” in which she and Johann Lamont engaged in the run-up to the independence referendum was a prime example. Had it been Alex Salmond and Jim Murphy locking horns, their display of testosterone would have been deemed appropriately bullish and manly. When women were seen verbally slugging it out, it felt unedifying even – they later seemed to admit – to themselves.

It is not that women do not have the facility or appetite to debate ferociously, but that it is still so rare a spectacle it makes everyone uncomfortable. Females in influential positions just aren’t meant to act this way (probably because until now there have been so few). Thus, they are at a disadvantage from the start. If they stand up for their ideas with passion, instead of being taken seriously they are called alley cats. Physiology puts them on the back foot too: a higher voice grows shrill when excited, and when it reaches soprano pitch, loses authority regardless of what is said. It is no coincidence that many women in senior public roles have cultivated a deep voice.

When Ms Sturgeon realised she was being labelled aggressive, she tempered her style so that her words, and not her demeanour, made the impact. In another sphere entirely, however, the next President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, the eminent scientist Professor Dame Anne Glover, says she has found it extremely helpful to adopt male tactics. There were times, she said in a recent interview, when she knew she was being treated in a certain way simply because she was a woman. “I just decided to behave in what I would regard in my prejudiced way more like a man, and it had instant results. I got what I wanted.” Pressed to explain, she replied: “Shouting, issuing ultimatums, going about slamming the door.”

While Dame Anne was quick to say many men don’t behave like this, she was right in pinpointing the traditional difference between the sexes when in command. Clearly this remains the case in circles where enlightenment has still to dawn. The fact that changing her methods altered the way she was perceived, and her effectiveness in the job, is disturbing as well as illuminating.

Some women are naturally assertive and domineering, just as some men are not. Donald Trump was elected partly because of his inflexible alpha male credentials, but only eight years earlier the gentler, thoughtful Barack Obama was appointed, who was a million miles apart from his successor in temperament and manner.

Attila the Hun or Joan of Arc were what you could call alpha male in their ability to instil terror, or their courageous fanaticism, yet we’d hardly hold them up as role models. And while women are often portrayed as more conciliatory and collegiate and less abrasive than men, that is by no means always the case. Even when they are, what is deemed weak by those more used to bullying actually strengthens their position. No one can doubt that Ms Sturgeon can be steely or tough, but she is no tyrant. Slamming doors might work in places ruled by men, but one senses that in Holyrood today, it would be seen as juvenile and risible.

How women in power ought to behave is not an issue of the characteristics or virtues of this woman or that, but of being accepted as an individual, regardless of gender. Traditional workplaces, be it a hospital ward or shop floor or parliament, have been far too slow in realising that the qualities a woman brings to the task are as unique as she is. So long as she does the job well, there is no right or wrong way to behave.

For the moment, too few women are in top jobs, but gradually that dearth will diminish. And, as more and more take responsible positions where they are able to influence decisions, the tenor of working life will inevitably will improve. In the meantime, to help us reach that point the question we should be asking is, why can’t a woman just be herself?