Two weeks ago, 30,000 neuroscientists descended on New Orleans for the largest annual neuroscience convention in the world. I was lucky enough to travel there with other members of Bowdoin’s neuroscience department for a long weekend of what I called neuron mania.
I considered telling you about the lectures I saw, the exhilaration I felt presenting my own work to revered researchers and the electric exchange of ideas that I witnessed at the conference.
It seems, however, that there is something far more pressing and relevant to discuss: How cute did I look during my poster presentation? Did I exude sex appeal in the dark lecture halls as I listened to talks on ion channels, traumatic brain injury and the effects of sleep on memory consolidation? Did I successfully walk that thin line between smartness and hotness?
My questions are less sarcastic than you might think.
Dr. Dario Maestripieri, a neurobiologist of social behavior at the University of Chicago, posted his “impressions” of this year’s conference on his personal Facebook page:
“There are thousands of people at the conference and an unusually high concentration of unattractive women. The supermodel types are completely absent. What is going on? Are unattractive women particularly attracted to neuroscience? Are beautiful women particularly uninterested in the brain? No offense to anyone.”
When I first got wind of Maestripieri’s post, I rolled my eyes and thought little more about it (gotta love that last line, though. Tasteful finesse). It seemed hyperbolically ridiculous, silly, dumb, and laughable in its cliche.
Why should any woman in the sciences (or any woman for that matter), if self-assured in her appearance and her intelligence, feel threatened by this guy?
Meanwhile, Maestripieri’s comments quickly spread across the internet. His post was volleyed around Facebook, rehashed in tweets, and dissected on science blogs (pardon the pun). It was beginning to get “real news” press coverage.
On some blogs I’ve read, commenters suggested that female scientists have more important concerns than their physical appearance, saying things like: “of course these women aren’t wearing heels, makeup and cocktail dresses, they have their priorities straight and are there to talk about science.”
Others have blogged things along the lines of, “It’s equally insulting for you to suggest that women who prioritize their appearance are any less capable of intellectual pursuit than women who don’t.”
Still others wondered what the big deal is in the first place: “This guy might be a sexist asshole, but he’s not representative of all men in science.”
Posts grew more personal. Posting in response to a blog titled “Adventures in Ethics and Science,” “Kelly” wrote, “As someone who was sexually harassed as both an undergraduate and graduate, and in fact who just had her academic achievements belittled a few weeks ago with the (public) assertion that I must have slept my way to where I am, I am deeply invested in outing and shaming these men.”
Associate Professor of Philosophy at San Jose State University Janet D. Stemwedel announced, “I want to shine a bright light on all the sexist behaviors, big or small, so the folks who have managed not to notice them so far start noticing them, and so that they stop assuming their colleagues who point them out and complain about them are making a big deal out of nothing.”
As I’ve read blog posts this past week, discussed them with friends, family and professors, my arguably dismissive reaction has given way to numerous questions about what it means to pursue science as a woman.
For example, many of the blog responses come from men and women a generation or two older than me—how has the academic environment changed more recently? Has it changed? If so, how do we interpret a study published by Yale researchers this year showing that, in a double-blind test, top research universities rated female scientists significantly lower than male scientists with identical credentials, and proposed starting salaries 14 percent lower for the women than for the men?
Let me emphasize: questions have been raised, but I won’t draw any conclusions yet; the debate is open and it’s time for our generation to start shaping it. So thank you Dr. Maestripieri (in all your benevolent foresight, I’m sure), for starting the discussion.