Four stories, head to head. You pick the winner.

Each story below is a composite, pieced together from patterns that senior women across the Milwaukee area keep describing. None of them is a member, a client or a real submission, because our mailbox is still waiting to be opened. That changes next month. For now, four bosses. Pick the worst.

We are working from the following guideline. A bad boss is a pattern, repeated, that costs you money, standing or sleep, and that you could not fix by simply being better at your job. Every entry comes with a cost attached, because the boss who did the most harm is the one who cost the most.

Option A. The Credit Converter

Across Milwaukee and Waukesha, he is never once heard speaking harshly. He just converts. Her analysis turns into "our thinking." Her idea, raised in a meeting he skipped, shows up in his update to the CEO by Thursday, bearing his name. When she brings it up, he looks puzzled and a little wounded: "We're a team." The cost: two promotion cycles in which the committee could not name one thing she had done, because everything had his name on it.

Option B. The Weather System

She is brilliant on Monday and dangerous on Wednesday, and nobody knows which version is walking in until the door opens. Colleagues in this group keep a side chat to alert one another, and they burn the first hour each morning decoding moods rather than doing the work. The price was a leadership group that quit delivering hard news, so a $4 million forecast shortfall turned into a $4 million shock. Treat that number as illustrative. The pattern is not.

Option C. The Sponsor Who Wasn't

Each review ends with him promising she is "up next," and for three full years she trusts that promise. In year four she learns from a peer that the role went to someone from outside, and that he sat on the panel and never once said her name. The 2025 McKinsey and LeanIn study showed that of every 100 men advanced to manager, 93 women are advanced. Silence from a supposed sponsor means there is no sponsorship at all. He is a delay.

Option D. The Twenty-Four-Hour Clock

He fires off his strongest ideas at 11:40 p.m. and wants an answer waiting before his 6 a.m. alarm. run along the lakefront. He never says so. He simply notices who answers. She keeps replying for two years, until a checkup in Waukesha prompts her doctor to ask how she is sleeping. The toll: a medical warning, a résumé showing one title stretched far too long, and a phone she still glances at during dinner.

What seasoned leaders in Wauwatosa and Brookfield report

Senior women who have survived all four rank them in a way that surprises younger colleagues. The Weather System looks the most menacing and is the simplest to walk away from, since everyone around it can plainly see it. The Clock harms health the most yet is the easiest to halt, because one line fixes it: "I'm offline from 8 p.m. to 7 a.m. Anything urgent, call." The Credit Converter and the Sponsor Who Wasn't do the greatest damage, remaining hidden to outsiders and courteous to insiders. Years afterward you realize that none of his promises in West Allis ever became real.

The verdict

That depends on what you choose to track. When money and time in the job are the yardstick, the reserved people come out ahead. Measured by what you would caution a friend about first, go with the loud one. Women across Southeast Wisconsin who have survived all four describe it identically: the risky boss is the one you find yourself excusing again and again.

Vote

Choose A, B, C or D, then forward your selection to your Milwaukee chapter. The breakdown of results will appear in print next month. If you have a real one from the Milwaukee area, send that too, with names changed. The stories we run next month ought to come from you.