In this adapted excerpt from “Not Just for the Boys: Why We Need More Women in Science” (Oxford University Press, 2023), physicist Athene Donald examines the role of bias against women in scientific publishing, and its pervasiveness that still persists among academia.


In judging individuals, it might be thought that there are appropriate quantitative and objective metrics to be used. In reality, such metrics can be seen to disadvantage women. Different disciplines and different countries may exhibit these tendencies to a greater or lesser extent. Letters of reference — in science as elsewhere — tend to use fewer stand-out adjectives about women than men, meaning their chance of progression is reduced.

Women’s papers are cited less; their grants are on average smaller; and their papers have a harder time getting past reviewers. A recent study of referees’ comments highlighted just how unpleasant, not to mention unhelpful, referee comments may be. One example stated: “This paper is, simply, manure.” Hardly constructive criticism.

And misogyny can feed into reviewers’ comments, sometimes explicitly, as in the case of another review quoted in the same paper: “The first author was a woman. She should be in the kitchen, not writing papers.” I would like to think that referee was blacklisted thereafter by the editor concerned, but the fact the editor saw fit to pass the comments on makes me think that was unlikely.

Faced with such responses, many researchers’ confidence, and particularly those of women who are in the minority in a field, may be so shaken that they step back or quit altogether.

Underpinning many of the obstacles I’ve just outlined is bias, unconscious though it may be. Overt discrimination is not only illegal, it is now less evident. Rita Colwell, the bacteriologist and first woman to head up the U.S.’s major funding agency, the National Science Foundation (NSF) was told at the start of her career in 1956 that “we don’t waste fellowships on women.” This remark made her angry, but it didn’t stop her in her professional tracks, as it might have for many women then and since.

Most senior academics would probably be more cautious to express such an opinion outright today, whether or not they privately harbored such thoughts. But it is not necessary to be aware of thinking that women are somehow second-class citizens; that opinion may seep into actions unconsciously.

Bias of this subterranean sort — variously known as unconscious or implicit bias — has come under intense scrutiny in recent years, as it should. Bias, at the individual level, acts as an unconscious reaction to all the stereotypes we have been fed since birth, and comes in many shapes and forms. It can be compared with Nobel Prize-winning Israeli psychologist Daniel Kahneman‘s two modes of thinking, System I and System 2.

System 1, which operates automatically and quickly, in an essentially involuntary way, would give rise to unconscious bias of the sort that decides a woman is not as capable of being a scientist as a man but would be expected to be very good at childminding or nurturing more generally.

System 2, the slower thinking process, takes the time to think through such a decision. That process allows the bias against women in that first thought to be teased out, confronted and, hopefully, rejected. Organizations that introduce unconscious bias training need to ensure that the need for moving on to slower, more considered (i.e. System 2) thinking is impressed on the individual, not imagine that the training is simply some sort of tickbox exercise telling people they should not be biased.

The latter, too commonly seen in online courses in particular, is totally insufficient to see outcomes shift, the only measure of the success of such a program. It may even backfire.

The subtle ways in which unconscious bias can operate in an academic setting was spelled out at length in Virginia Valian‘s classic book “Why So Slow?” (MIT Press, 1998) about the progression of women in academia. Despite Valian’s book being a quarter of a century old, it is still a sobering read, highlighting all the different places where disadvantage may accrue across the university sector (and not just STEM).

Related: 30 amazing women in science and math

What is the hard evidence, beyond anecdote and suspicion, that unconscious bias impacts on women’s careers? Increasing numbers of studies show, in many different guises, just how potent such bias can be.

One of the most striking classes of study is that which compares the reactions of both men and women to identical CVs submitted under a typically male and a typically female name. Valian highlights a study from as far back as 1975 by L.S. Fidell, which demonstrates bias in her own field of psychology. Many studies since have gone on to demonstrate the pervasiveness of such bias, which does not seem to be disappearing.

For instance, in one much-cited study, faculty were sent identical CVs to evaluate, differing only in whether the name at the top appeared to be male or female. These were application materials for an undergraduate science student who had ostensibly applied for a science laboratory manager position. Both male and female faculty were more likely to “hire” the man, as well as offer him more support/training and a higher salary than the woman, despite the identical track records.

The late 1990s saw not only the publication of Valian’s book, but also a paper regarding data from the Swedish Medical Research Council concerning biomedical fellowships, which used a Freedom of Information request to obtain the actual evaluation sheets used by the peer-review panel. Sweden, it should be noted, is generally regarded as one of the most egalitarian societies in the world when it comes to gender issues, but the findings would not have led a reader to make that assessment.

The title of the paper presenting the results of this study gives the game away: “Nepotism and Sexism in Peer-Review.” Using an array of metrics to devise a figure of merit for impact, it demonstrated graphically how great a difference there was in evaluators’ competence scores for men and women objectively assessed to have demonstrated equivalent impact.

The authors’ analysis showed that this discrepancy amounted to the equivalent of three papers in a high-ranking journal, such as Nature, or the phenomenal difference of 20 papers in a moderately highly ranked journal. Equally worrying was personal bias, the nepotism of the title, when an applicant was known to a panel member.

Despite that particular person not being allowed to take part in the evaluation itself, as is customary with such funding panels, it transpired that the other panel members scored anyone known to have such an association more highly.

Bias comes in many forms, regardless of how much processes such as excluding a known associate from making the relevant judgement, may attempt to overcome them. When this study appeared, back in 1997, many women already had suspicions that they were being treated unfairly, or at least differentially compared with men.

For far too many of us, the message of the 1988 “Miss Triggs” cartoon will have felt painfully familiar then, and may still do so now. To counter this sort of behavior it is important for those around the table to chip in, to remind everyone that Miss Triggs did just say this and it is good that Mr X agrees.

This technique was brought more forcefully into the public’s eyes by female staffers in the Obama White House, who called it amplification. As the Washington Post described it: When a woman made a key point, other women would repeat it, giving credit to its author. This forced the men in the room to recognize the contribution — and denied them the chance to claim the idea as their own.

Every committee around the world, in academia or not, could do with more pushing back on bad behavior from other committee members.

The other tendency seen only too often at committees, debates, and other potentially confrontational situations, is that when men talk over another committee member it is typically a woman. Again, American politics shows a clear example of how to deal with this arrogant behavior; in the 2020 Vice Presidential debate, Kamala Harris calmly said over and over, “Mr Vice President, I’m speaking.” Many people would, however, find it easier if someone else, an ally male or female, made that very same point for them.

© Athene Donald. Extract from Not Just for the Boys: Why We Need More Women in Science published by Oxford University Press in May 2023, available in paperback and eBook formats, £16.99.


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