Women have been practicing science longer
than science as we know it has even existed. While evidence of women in science
dates back to 4000 BCE (through carvings of female physicians), the first documented
woman in science – Merit Ptah – is from 2700 BCE Ancient Egypt (Giese 2009).
Merit Ptah was also the first documented physician (either male or female)
(ibid). En Hedu’anna was another early documented women in science from 2350
BCE Babylon; Hedu’anna was a priestess who helped organize the very first
calendar based on lunar cycles (Bibalex 2007). In these early days of science, the
inclusion of these women was not a rarity, rather it was common; for example,
in Ancient Egypt, many women attended coeducational medical schools and
all-female chemistry schools (Giese 2009).
In 600 BCE, the number of women (and
men) in science increased drastically, in part due to the rise of Greek science
(ibid). Women were seen as men’s equals in many early Ancient Greek
communities. For example, Theano, the wife of Pythagoras, was a prominent
philosopher (and early scientist) independent of her husband - in addition to
creating many works of her own, she also led Pythagoras’ school (ibid). Plato
also believed that women were able to contribute to the field, and mentored
women as well as men (ibid).
Somewhere between the time of Plato and
Aristotle, women began being excluded from not only practicing science, but
from studying science. This shift toward exclusion began when new perspectives
on women began to be more predominant. Aristotle, unlike his mentor - Plato, strongly
believed that women were intellectually inferior to men and incapable of
rational thought, thus science (WST, xxii).[JG1] With Aristotle’s, and other powerful
men’s, influence, women began to be viewed as ‘unfit’ for the sciences and
excluded from higher education. Despite this, several Ancient Greek women still
managed to both study and practice science.
Agnodice, a woman from late 4th
century BCE Athens, dressed as a man in order to bypass laws preventing women
from studying medicine (Giese 2009; Bibalex 2007). Agnodice, who revealed her gender
identity to her patients, was the most popular physician in Athens. Male
physicians, who were losing their clients to her, protested that she no longer
be allowed to practice due as her status as a woman (Bibalex 2007; Giese 2009).
However, their plan backfired and the law was changed to allow females to become
physicians and treat female patients (the law however, still prohibited women
from treating male patients) (Giese 2009). While the law improved, it still
prohibited women from treating male patients (note: other areas of Europe, like
Italy, women were allowed to treat both sexes) (Bibalex 2007, Giese 2009).
While most women were restricted from the
higher education, like Agnodice, some -with fathers or husbands in the field were
allowed to participate in scientific practices. One example is Hypatia of Alexandria (370-415), who studied
mathematics, astronomy, and astrology beneath her father (Giese 2009; Zielinski
2010). Her studies enabled her to later become a professor and an early
inventor (she invented to plane astrolabe, a water distilling apparatus, and a
hydrometer) (Giese 2009). Hypatia’s story shows that the major obstacle of
women during this time was not their intellect, but instead, limited access to
higher education.
In the Middle Ages, women were able
to gain access to higher educational by joining a convent (WST xxii; Giese 2009).
[JG2] One of these women was Hildegard of Bingen,
who lived from 1098 to 1179 (Bibalex 2007; Giese 2009). Sister Hildegard of
Bingen, whose works are still largely intact, was a multi-dimensional
researcher who contributed to medicine, botany, zoology, geology, theology, the
arts, and many other fields (ibid). Many other nuns made significant
contributions during this time as well (WST intro). [JG3]
Women who did not enter a convent, like Jocoba
Felicie, resorted to the repeated the pattern of disguising their gender in
order to gain access to higher education. Jacoba Felicie’s disguised education
allowed her to develop the skills and knowledge needed to practice medicine.
Felicie used her skills to finding cures for patients that other physicians
could not, and was regarded as one of the best physicians in Paris (Bibalex
2007). When Felicie’s gender was revealed, her profound skills led to outrage,
as many thought it was preposterous that a woman could be better at practicing
medicine than a man – this outrage led to Felicie being banned from ever
practicing medicine again (ibid). . I cannot help but wonder how many
scientific advancements went undiscovered due to the exclusion of such women.
Women in Italy during the Middle Ages, unlike
other areas, were allowed entrance to medical school, and thus were able to
practice medical science (Bellucci 2005). Tortula, who lived in Italy during
the 11th century, was one of these women. Trotula of Solerno (also
known as Tortula) was the first gynecologist and obstetrician (Bellucci 2005;
Bibalex 2007; Giese 2009). Throughout her career, she worked to publish a
series of medical texts on women’s health called Trolula Major – the text included information on how to dull labor
pains using opioids, how to complete an caesarian section operation, and
menstruation (Bellucii 2005). Trotula of Solerno also was the first to believe
men, and not just women, could have defective reproductive organs that would
cause them to be infertile (believe it or not, this was a radical idea of the
time!) (ibid). By the mid-1500, when the exclusion of women from higher
education spread to Italy however, and Trotula’s story was erased and credited
to a man (her gender identity has only recently been uncovered, and is still
debated by some) (ibid). The way that women’s (like Trotula’s) histories and
contributions are re-written has contributed to the current idea that women
only began practicing science in the early 1900s.
During the Renaissance period, the number of
women in science decreased significantly (Giese 2007). While there were many women
physicians, most of them lost their right to practice medicine solely because another
woman trained them. Furthermore, any woman who claimed to be knowledgeable (in
not only medicine, but in science in general) was dismissed or executed for suspicion
of practicing witchcraft (ibid). As noted by Giese (2009): “the number of people (nearly all of whom
were female) executed for witchcraft between 1400 and 1700 have ranged from
100,000 to 9,000,000.” Men’s newfound ability to excuse a woman of witchcraft,
not only scared women from pursuing science and eliminated most of who were in
science, but also allowed men to stand at the forefront of science.
Although there was a sharp decline in
women in science during the Renaissance, in the 17th and 18th
century, women reentered the field (under much more restricted guidelines of
course). Lectures and science texts began to cater to women interested in the
sciences, however only in particular branches of science, like botany, that
were deemed more feminine (Giese 2009). With botany being an ‘acceptable’
science for women, Jane
Colden Farquahar was able to pursue study over 300 plants and discover the
gardenia (ibid). However,
without the support of family members, women’s independent participation in the
sciences was still limited.
Many women who were not able to pursue
independent research began to practice science as their husbands’ research
assistants. Antoine Lavoisier (regarded as the “Father of Modern Chemistry”),
for example, conducted many of his experiments with the aid of his wife, Marie
(ibid). Marie, and many other women in similar positions, served as his
illustrator, research assistant, translator, and most likely, partner. Despite
their likely research idea contributions, women in Marie’s position were never
given any credit for their work; instead, many of their contributions were
attributed to their male counterparts (ibid).
More elite women, who had access to science
tutors and higher education, practiced physical and chemical sciences
independently of a male figure. For example, Queen Christina of Sweden (1626-1689) and Margaret Cavendish,
the duchess of Newcastle (1623-1673), who were both trained by Descartes, produced
their own scientific work (the latter of the two wrote 14 books on atomic
physics, laying a foundation for the field) (WST xxii). [JG4] Emilie du Châtelet (1706-1749) also made
profound contributions of her own – Châtelet replicated Newton’s experiments
(giving them validity) and interpreted the theories of Leibnitz (WST xxii[JG5] ; Ferreira 2014). Another woman who pursued her
own scientific research is Caroline Herschel, who discovered 14 nebulae and 8
comets (ibid). Despite these women’s fantastic achievements, they are often
overlooked in mainstream science history texts.
Not only are these women’s
achievements discounted in our current textbooks, influential men of their time
ignored and ridiculed these women’s presence in science. Immanuel Kant, a
German philosopher of the time wrote, that women like Emilie du Châtelet,
“might as well have a beard” (as cited by WST xxiii[JG6] ). Not only does this comment work to discount
her contributions, it also strips Châtelet of her femininity, and in effect,
causes her to be viewed as an unproductive citizen (women’s only roles were as
a wife and mother at the time). Other men scorned educated women - Rousseau, a
famous scientist and philosopher, noted: “A female wit is a scourge to her
husband, her children, her friends, her servants, to everybody. From the lofty
height of her genius, she scorns every womanly duty, and she is always trying
to make a man of herself” (as cited by WST xxiii[JG7] ). Along this same lines, others, like Francis
Bacon, saw women, in general, “as an impediment to the achievements of men and
believed that women should be avoided altogether” (WST xxii).[JG8] This heavily ingrained thought that women were
unfit for science (or really any intellectual endeavor) increased the number of
obstacles hopeful women in science faced, and further worked to exclude them
from elite science organizations.
In the 19th century,
women gained access to higher education. The first of the women’s colleges
(Georgia female College) was established in 1836 (200 years after the first
men’s college – Harvard), with others following in suit (Giese 2009). With
higher levels of certification, more women were able to enter the field. Women’s
colleges also increased the number of women in the field by employing female
scientists to teach. Teaching positions enabled those, like astronomer Maria
Mitchell, to do independent research of their own (ibid).
While employment at women’s colleges increased
the number of women producing their own scientific research, their employment
was contingent on their single marital status (ibid). Harriet Brooks, who completed
profound research on radioactivity, fell victim to this regulation – when she
became engaged she was forced to resign from the physics department at Barnard
College as they believed that she, as a married woman, should “dignify her home-making into a
profession, and not assume that she can carry on two full professions at a
time"
(Rossiter 1982: 16 as cited by Giese 2009).
Women were still expected to put their societal role as a mother and
housewife above their career ambitions. With these restricting guidelines, and
distaste for marital gender roles, women like Rita Levi-Montalcini decided not
to marry, and instead to pursue research.
Marie Curie, as discussed
in the next chapter of this paper, was one of the few women who managed to
pursue research during this period and also have a family. Curie was only able
to do so with the aid of her progressive husband and supportive father-in-law,
who took on the role of a primary caregiver for their children while Curie
spent her time in the laboratory. Curie’s daughter, Irene Joliot-Curie, became
interested in science as a result of her mother’s achievements and later, also
won a Nobel Prize for scientific research (McGrayne 1993). The Curie women
exemplify how while resources to become incredible scientists were available,
without support becoming a female scientist was not an easy feat.
Women who had gained access to scientific
training and married often joined their husband’s laboratories. Poor women also
worked in (underpaid) technicians and assistant positions to help supplement
their husband’s income (Wiley 2009). While this was still a great stride toward
the inclusion of women in science, women during this period predominantly
served as “invisible assistants” rarely receiving any credit for the work they
produced, even if the research ideas were theirs (WST xxii). [JG9] While
education proved to be a step toward the inclusion of women in the sciences, it
came with “a pattern of segregated employment and underrecognition” (Rossiter
1982: xviii as cited by Wiley 2009).
In the 18th and 19th
century, men began to use science itself to justify women’s exclusion (and
circumvent the public fear that women would “become masculinized and expect to
be included in men’s activities” as result of their entrance in a masculine
domain) from science (WST p 1). [JG10] In
the late 1800s, scientists tried to claim that the increase in women’s
intellect was related to the decrease in the health of upper-middle-class white
women (ibid). Education was viewed as a strain on their personal wellbeing,
especially as women were still seen as having limited intellectual capacities (ibid).
They even went as far to claim that education was requiring women to increase
blood flow to the brain and thus away from their reproductive organs –
threatening women’s primary role in society to reproduce (ibid). Pierre Paul
Broca, also conducted ‘objective’ research that claimed women were unfit for
the sciences because their intellect was less than that of men’s (a study I
will pull apart in my fourth chapter) (Gould)[JG11] . In this way, men “used their theories of
women’s innate frailty to disqualify the girls and women of their own race and
class who would have been competing with them for education and professional
status” (Hubbard
in WST p 155) [JG12]
While ‘science’ began to exclude
women from science, during the industrial revolution, and especially during war
periods, demand for labor increased women’s participation in the sciences. During
the industrial revolution, poor white and black women began working in
laboratories to help provide for their families. Laboratories hired women in
favor of men for these positions as they were a cheaper source of labor. During
periods of war, when all the men were abroad, women began working in more male-typical
positions. These women, to much avail of the previously mentioned ‘scientists,’
demonstrated that they were just as capable as the men who jobs they filled. Women
were then able to establish themselves in high-wage earning jobs in the
chemical and automotive industry (Hubbard in WST)[JG13] .
When the men returned from the war, and chemicals were shown to have
reproductively damaging effects, women in these positions were forced to either
continue working and prove they were sterile, or leave their position (ibid). Although
the chemical effect was also damaging to men’s sperm, they were not forced to
prove infertility to keep their jobs (ibid). In addition the women in nursing
and other feminine coded fields were not forced with the same decision even
though they were still exposed to chemicals and radiation that could
potentially harm a fetus (ibid). As Ruth Hubbard notes: “The ideology of
woman’s nature that is invoked at these times would have us believe that a
woman’s capacity to become pregnant leaves her always physically disabled by
comparison to men” (Hubbard in WST p 155[JG14] ). As
such, potential pregnancy now worked to exclude women from the sciences.
In the 1950s, women’s participation in the
sciences declined as the ideal social role of women in society changed (Wiley
2009). These were the years of the Betty Friedan’s “Feminine Mystique” and
housewife depression, where ‘good’ women married and worked to satisfy their
husbands’ and children’s (and not their own) needs. These societal images of
the housewife (and the lack of representation of women in the sciences) also affected
how private funding was allocated – spoiler alert, it was not used towards
women’s research (Giese 2009).
The few women who managed to enter professional
science realm however, were making gigantic strides. Chien-Shiung Wu was one of
these women, and was the first woman elected president of the American Physical
Society. In addition, Wu became the 7th women to enter the National
academy of sciences in 1958 (Giese
2009). While women like Wu (and Rosalind Franklin, Jocelyn Bell Burnell – just
to mention a few more) were becoming recognized in the field, they were often
overlooked when awards were decided, or not granted membership to elite
scientific communities (McGrayne 1999).
Legislation, including the Title IX education
amendments of 1972 and equal pay act of 1963, were instrumental in increasing
the number of women in the sciences (Rossiter 1995 as cited by Wiley 2009). Since, women have graduated with more than 50%
of the awarded undergraduate science degrees and in 2006, 30% of Ph.D.’s were
granted to women (Wiley 2009). And now, many more women have pursued careers in
the sciences (although requires quite a bit of leaning in to do so).
The women highlighted in this history show how
overt and covert forms sexism have excluded women from the sciences. The
biggest advancement for women in the sciences, as well as other professions,
has been access to education. When women began to be trained in the sciences,
many began practicing science while teaching. Positions for women however, were
very limited at the time (either worked as an assistant or at a woman’s
college) and when a woman became married, she was forced to resign. Many women
did not have the support needed from their families to pursue professional
scientific careers or were able to gain access to funding. When the industrial
revolution came about, women filled entry-level science positions to supplement
their family income, however were not promoted. During the war period, women
filled more male-typical jobs, however when the men returned, were expected to
return to their natural roles. While
few women were escalated to the level of their male peers in the sciences,
their work was more often than not misattributed to male colleagues. While it
is easy to believe these forms of sex-based discrimination, all lay in the
past, it is unfortunately not our present reality.
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