Man-Made Science: On the Origins of the Gender Gap 

Alice Ball was born in Seattle on July 24, 1892. She would grow up in Washington, achieving top marks in school before studying Chemistry at the University of Washington. She would have her article "Benzoylations in Ether Solution" published in the Journal of the American Chemical Society. Ball then pursued a Masters of Chemistry at the University of Hawaii, where she would study chaulmoogra oil and its treatment of leprosy.

 

Ball revolutionised the application of the oil, discovering its water solubility in its ester ethyl form, enabling it to be dissolved within the bloodstream. At the time, this revolutionary treatment was the best available for leprosy, having resoundingly positive impacts on more than 8000 people.

 

Ball would die at the age of 24, and Arthur L. Dean, the future President of the University of Hawaii, would publish her findings, the treatment coming to be known as the “Dean Method”.

 

It was not until 2000 that Alice Ball was formally recognised as having pioneered the method.

 

Ball is not a rarity in the history of recognition of women in science. Women have been rendered oblique in the fabric of scientific contribution, pushed into corners by their male counterparts.

 

You are not a scientist, they say.

You are a worker, a contributor to a broader scientific framework that lies beyond the tips of your fingers.

Your worth does not extend past your utility, your body and brain useful insofar as we dictate.

Make no mistake, your work is not yours to own.

 

These women, these scientists, these thinkers are perpetually framed in this lens, their stories framed in the contexts they were stolen from. Throughout history, women have been slotted in around men, in the world, in language, crammed in, letting femininity compress and fold over herself.

 

The notion of feminist and masculinist lenses of science is not inherently divisive despite the dichotomised nature of their terminology. Rather, examining the feminist lenses of science contributes to a richer understanding of the epistemic value of science itself. The dangers of not examining said lenses are not only very real, they are tragic. Historically, women have occupied lesser paid, more arduous, and more dangerous positions within STEM industries, the most famous instance being the large number of women who contracted radiation poisoning from painting watch-faces with self-luminous paint.

However, there is no unified definition of a “feminist lens of science”. Various feminist philosophers and critics have taken hugely diversified approaches to exploring the hierarchal structure of scientific industries. A more limited feminist approach looks purely at the consequential issues of exclusion, examining issues of employment and discrimination and attempting to rectify these after they have occurred. This is a relatively contained approach to gender disparities within STEM, in contrast to more encompassing ideologies of socialist or existentialist feminism that examines the reason women are excluded in the primary instance, and how their exclusion permeates scientific practice. Existentialist feminism upholds that sex-based discrimination occurs not as a result of biological differences, but due to the social valuation of those biological differences. It is, as Sue Rosser points out, “man’s conception of woman as Other” that leads to ostracisation. In a similar vein, socialist feminism defines knowledge as a product of human investigation rather than an innate property of scientific practice. As a consequence, knowledge is inevitably influenced by social values and indeed, cannot exist without bias. As Rosser points out, this has a very tangible impact at industry level, where “the social shaping of technology has often been conceptualised in terms of men, excluding women at all levels”. So long as the notion of conventional masculinity saturates scientific practice, the proportion of women who not only pursue science but who are recognised for their work will remain diminished. 

 

It is no coincidence that of professionals working across STEM industries, only 28 per cent are women. Sexism is not merely a product of academic culture, it is ingrained within the practice of science itself. The study of evolutionary biology is a prime example, where Darwin posited in 1859 “the average standard of mental power in man must be above that of women”. A decade later, Antoinette Brown Blackwell proved this to be an illogical conclusion, much of the research conducted was conducted with this in mind. As a result, foundational assumptions about the makeup of “human nature” were built upon these misguided foundations. It was not until much later that this groundwork was actively revised in mainstream science. Primatologists Jane Goodall, Dian Fossey and Biruté Galdikas demonstrated that there was very little, if anything, biologically different in the “moral and intellectual” capacities of men and women by investigating the evolutionary significance of female primates. Despite this, science, particularly in the life sciences, remains endowed with sexism that has arisen as a consequence of systemic inequality.

 

One ramification of the surplus of male bioscientists that has been historically upheld is the stigmatisation and mystification of female anatomy and the differences of treatment for various diseases. That is, the predominance of male scientists results in lack of female subjects in medical experiments, leading to “under-diagnosis, inappropriate treatment and higher death rates for cardiovascular and other disease in women”, as Rosser points out. Such a lack of research not only directly results in higher suffering in women, but it is also indicative of a broader culture of apathy and negligence in the treatment of women. Much of these issues arise as a consequence of what is known as the “gender data gap”, a term coined by feminist journalist Caroline Criado Perez. Essentially, our default human is male and our data disproportionately accounts for them. This impacts every area of life, from women being 50 per cent more likely to be misdiagnosed after a heart attack (heart-fail experiment subjects are primarily male) to being 17 per cent more likely to die in a car crash (crash-test dummies are designed with masculine anatomy).

 

These implications are severe, particularly in the realms of psychology, where diagnoses and psychological science has been used as a weapon to marginalise and obscure the autonomy of women. The etymology of the word “hysteria” has its roots from the Latin word for “uterus”, the construction of the word sexist from its conception. Since then, women who have advocated for change have consistently been deemed mentally unfit to serve within social spheres. This notion has bled into psychological practice and shapes much of the diagnostic procedure we see today, however subliminally. Further, the conduct of psychological studies is perhaps inescapably plagued by bias and assumption. This exists within every area of science but is particularly poignant in psychology, where successful post-publication replication is at its lowest. Whilst the reasons for why replication is so low within this field is contested, it undoubtedly means that psychological studies are subject to greater subjectivity in regards to their theoretical frameworks. This, in turn, enables researchers’ own biases and assumptions to saturate the work they conduct. Psychological studies examining sexism often treat it as a distinct social phenomenon that occurs in particular settings rather than a pervasive behaviour ingrained within institutions and scientific practice. One study examines the British Psychological Society’s guidelines surrounding ethical scientific practice, but particularly in regard to the prevention of sexism. The primary issue found here is that the guidelines preventing sexism are concerned more with the wellbeing of the subjects than the epistemic frameworks of the studies themselves. This results in a relatively poor understanding of the way androcentrism has permeated science’s theoretical framework, not merely its applications. When we look at the impact of sexism in psychological and medical sciences in tandem, it becomes evident the way sexist institutions have bled not only into the repercussions of scientific research, but in the very frameworks we use to conduct research.

 

The systemic issues ingrained within the practice of science become tangibly visible in the gender disparities that exist within the sciences. In the US, women earn half of total science and engineering bachelor’s degrees, but only 39 per cent of postdoctoral fellowships and 18 per cent of professorships. Female academics from around the world are pioneering solutions to the persistent gender-discrimination problems facing the scientific community. Liisa Husu suggests that the key to tackling gendered scientific practice is by examining the “non-events”, the things that seemingly do not occur. These include a lack of referencing for female colleagues in publication, lack of recognition or attribution for work (both contemporary and historic). The lack of attendance of female professors and academics at conferences is another contributing factor, as such events not only enable cross-collaboration and open practice to occur without impediment, but facilitate connections to be formed within the academic world. The establishment of ethics committees that oversee scientific publications are also hugely influential. For example, in the US, the National Institutes of Health Funding implemented a regulation that women must be encompassed in “human studies”. These regulations need to be enforced and upheld with rigour and commitment. They cannot be perceived as extraneous or superfluous to the research conducted. This can be aided by requiring pre-publication replication or at the very least, evaluation by researchers independent of the original study.

 

Our standard human is not a white, 70 kg man in his 30s.

Our people are bold and bright and diverse and our science has no choice but to reflect that.

The face of the scientific community has for too long been dominated by a voice that has been ignorant and apathetic to the suffering it has inflicted. To accept and enable these inbuilt systemic biases to persist is a gross injustice to the communities that have suffered as a result of silence.

 

You are a scientist, we say.

You are a beating, breathing, vibrant contributor to our collective pursuit of knowledge.

Your voice is vital and worthy of being heard.

And heard it will be.