Mars and Venus in Grad School

It appears to be a good week for non-controversial posting, so while I’m making enemies, I might as well go all out…

The recent call for book ideas from the Feminist Press has sparked an interesting discussion at Cocktail Party Physics, but I want to highlight one comment in particular:

There is a lot more of a macho-subculture in the sciences than appears at first glance. For example, the quotes “Nobody gets an A in my class!” Or “You guys aren’t cut out for the sciences.”

I don’t know if you found those discouraging, but for young boys, those kinds of statements are challenges. They don’t discourage extra effort, young boys get told they can’t do stuff all the time, and it doesn’t seem to stop them.

This is really the only reason I’m ambivalent about some of the proposals for attracting more women to physics. (More below the cut.)

Usually, when this subject comes up, a lot of time is spent denouncing the “macho” culture of physics– the whole “only the strong shall survive” thing that makes everything run on confrontation. There are calls for more sensitivity and openness, and a less aggressive approach to research, and I definitely agree that there are a lot of idiots out there who deserve to be leashed.

On the other hand, though, one of my fondest professional memories is built around confrontation. When I was a post-doc, I went back to my old research group at NIST to give a colloquium about recent results, and like all colloquia there, it was a battle. I brought slides for a twenty-minute talk, and we called a halt after an hour and a half, with four slides to go. I think the title slide was the only one that didn’t draw some sort of challenge. It wasn’t done in a hostile way, mind, but they pushed at everything I said, and nothing got by them.

That was the most fun I’ve ever had giving a talk. I knew the material backwards and forwards, and knew we were right about our conclusions, and I absolutely loved the challenge. I knew that there wasn’t a question they could ask that I couldn’t answer, and knowing for certain that I would win every argument was a huge kick. It was absolutely the high point of my speaking career.

So I have a certain amount of sympathy for the current model. When I hear people call for a less confrontational approach to science, I worry that that means losing not just the hostile and belittling remarks– which absolutely and without question need to go– but also some of the stuff that works for me. I wouldn’t want colloquia in that group to be done any other way. ( I also think the “paper torture” process by which articles got written was tremendously effective, but that may be a subject for another post…) It was terrifying at times– in grad school, I had a mortal terror of the phrase “Before you leave that slide…”– but I’m not sure that a less confrontational approach would’ve worked as well for me.

The real challenge for science in general is to find a way to simultaneously make science more accomodating for those who don’t like confrontation, without also sapping the motivation of those who respond well to the confrontational approach. After all, whatever we may think of the more testosterone-addled members of the profession, the current approach has been pretty effective at generating good science.

In the end, there’s almost certainly no one-size-fits-all solution. Different people will respond to the same stimuli in different ways, and what drives one person away will only encourage another. It’s not even necessarily a function of gender– in some areas, I’m much more likely to turn away from confrontation than my sister is (she’s in law school at the moment– another field that doesn’t lack for confrontation…). The trick is knowing who to challenge, and who to encourage more gently, and finding a way to balance those two approaches.

18 comments

  1. I think well designed and run discussion sections/journal clubs/group meetings are very important in dealing with this. Those that tend to avoid confrontation can develop their skills while building confidence. Those more readily to express their opinions can learn how to do it in a productive manner while allowing room for others to get their thoughts across. The key is building a safe environment. It is to the betterment of all for this to happen. A good scientific discussion leads to better experiments and new ideas but if only a few are made to feel comfortable expressing themselves then gains will be limited.

  2. I would not assume that all women find a confrontational approach hostile rather than motivating.

    Personally, and I know my opinion is shared by many of my peers, I do not wish to be protected or spared. It’s not about watching the swearing around the ladies; I want my gender to have nothing to do with my contribution. I don’t want to have to talk extra loud just to be heard, to be questioned about my menstrual cycle every time I disagree with someone, or to pretend I’m not insulted when male colleagues use “girly” as a slur like being female is the worst thing you could possibly be (aside perhaps from being gay).

    Equal treatment is not special treatment, it’s the exact opposite. There is a way to preserve and encourage a healthy and fruitful spirit of competition without turning every lab into a locker room.

  3. I’m not sure why this is even an issue. If people find it hard to distinguish between “I don’t really believe you’ve correctly accounted for systematic errors in that plot” and “I don’t really believe you have what it takes to be a physicist, why not try switching to English?”, then we definitely have a problem.

  4. I’m not sure why this is even an issue. If people find it hard to distinguish between “I don’t really believe you’ve correctly accounted for systematic errors in that plot” and “I don’t really believe you have what it takes to be a physicist, why not try switching to English?”, then we definitely have a problem.

    A few individuals aside, I don’t think that’s a major problem.

    The question is whether there’s a problem with “I think your error bars are wrong” as opposed to “Are you sure those error bars are right?”

  5. “Before you leave that slide…”

    Sounds familiar…

    If it’s not now, it will be soon…
    Also, the answer to any question beginning “Don’t you really mean to say that…” is usually “yes.”

  6. I knew the material backwards and forwards, and knew we were right about our conclusions, and I absolutely loved the challenge. I knew that there wasn’t a question they could ask that I couldn’t answer

    What challenge? You weren’t being challenged, you were putting on a show. That’s fine, and fun, and I don’t mean the comment as criticism in any way — I enjoy such talks too, giving or hearing them.

    But: would you have felt differently about the level of confrontation if, say, you’d had to give the talk a few months earlier when some of your data were still inconclusive and you weren’t so certain of your interpretations? And how many comments that felt friendly enough to you from your secure position would have come across as threatening/rude if you’d been less secure?

    I think the more relevant test of whether a critical atmosphere is demanding-but-supportive or corrosive and damaging comes when people present work they don’t know backwards and forwards. The presenter has to be willing to hear “you’re wrong” not “you suck”, and the audience has to be willing to say “hang on, what about X” not “you suck, you forgot X”.

  7. I am going to agree with Sean. You have set up a false dichotomy in this discussion. There is a big difference between saying, “you are a moron” and “you forgot to calculate an important source of systematic errors so your conclusions are wrong.” One is a personal attack, the other is methodological statement. Keeping the statements made during a seminar about the science instead about personal issues is a professional obligation and will do a lot to keep good people in science.

    Secondly, the statement that boys prefer challenges is, well, not entirely correct in my experience. I have met a number of men who found that the hyper-aggressiveness of their colleagues distasteful. Many of them changed fields (certain fields have more of this behaviour than others), despite being grads of elite research universities and big time faculty.

    I think everything boils down to being professional and not personal. And don’t get me started on job interviews.

  8. The line to dread where I am studying right now is a certain scientist who has been here 50+ years saying “There’s something simple here I don’t quite understand…”.

    I find that I learn a lot by giving a talk to a room full of experienced people because they ask good questions. I think there is a real difference between people asking lots of challenging things because they genuinely want to understand and people asking a lot of difficult, pointed things because they are out to see if you are going to screw it up. There is a lot to benefit from in the former and very little one can get from the latter.

    I don’t think that taking the challenge out of science is a good idea and I’m not sure it’s even possible. I think the real solution will be giving people the confidence to feel that they are up to the challenge.

  9. From what I’ve gathered of my sister’s experience (PhD Molecular Biology), a lot of the problem isn’t even the TONE of the questions. It’s that women’s results (subconsciously) get questioned MORE than the same work done by a man. Therefore the question of “Are you sure that those numbers are correct?” ends up being an isulting question because the same question might not have been asked of a man.

    Similarly, when a man and a woman get into a discussion (disagreement, argument, whatever) during the lab meeting/ journal club/whatever, the man’s arguments automatically get more weight, even if they are weaker.

    Now, this may be 1) more so in Molecular Bio 2) only my sister’s experience 3) My misunderstanding of my sister’s experience, or any number of other explanations, but it’s an anecdote…

  10. But: would you have felt differently about the level of confrontation if, say, you’d had to give the talk a few months earlier when some of your data were still inconclusive and you weren’t so certain of your interpretations? And how many comments that felt friendly enough to you from your secure position would have come across as threatening/rude if you’d been less secure?

    I’ve done that, too. With the same group, even– that’s where I did my thesis research, after all.

    I was more nervous going in, but it was still a kick. I wasn’t as confident in my results, but I still had more evidence at my disposal than anyone in the audience. In some ways, coming up with the answers on the fly was almost more satisfying than knowing it all ahead of time.

    I don’t know that I’ve ever had anyone actively trying to make me look like an idiot in a hostile manner, so I’m not sure how I would respond. I’ve given a few talks where I got very pointed questions– we made some assertions about the limits of a class of theories that weren’t terribly popular– but I don’t know that they were really hostile. I didn’t take them that way, anyway.

    From what I’ve gathered of my sister’s experience (PhD Molecular Biology), a lot of the problem isn’t even the TONE of the questions. It’s that women’s results (subconsciously) get questioned MORE than the same work done by a man. Therefore the question of “Are you sure that those numbers are correct?” ends up being an isulting question because the same question might not have been asked of a man.

    This is the sort of thing that worries me. The same sort of anecdotes come up in physics, too. But if even a moderately phrased question might be taken as an insult because it might be some indication of subconscious bias… At some point it becomes sort of paralyzing, and it’s easier to avoid the problem altogether by just not asking the question.

    You might say “Oh, that’s just ridiculous,” but a few years back, there was an article in one of the academic journals telling faculty that they shouldn’t write “Good job!” on the papers of minority students, because it might be taken as a backhanded compliment– as if you were surprised that they could’ve done a good job at all. So, what was intended as a compliment for good work might be taken as an insult. At which point, I don’t know what the hell we are supposed to write on papers… And yet, this was seriously put out there as something to be aware of.

    As for the general tone, I’ve sat in group meetings where people were told “You’re out of your freakin’ mind,” and everybody was happy. But that was a crowd of people who all knew each other well, so it’s easier to get away with that sort of thing.

  11. Jenn said:

    “I think the real solution will be giving people the confidence to feel that they are up to the challenge.”

    And that pretty much sums it up. I would certainly not advocate taking the challenge out of physics, watering down the curriculum, etc., and I wouldn’t take seriously, or endorse, any effort that included such an objective in its mission statement. Being able to handle pointed, thoughtful critiques of one’s work is a useful LIFE skill, and should be encouraged in all fields, scientific or otherwise. I love being challenged. I belong to a writer’s group filled with people who rip my rough drafts to shreds on a regular basis, and the finished product is usually much improved as a result. I do so because (a) I’m committed to my work (and I love what I do for a living), (b) I’ve developed the confidence that I can handle the challenge of revising and rewriting to make a piece work, and (c) there are very specific “rules of engagement” to ensure the group gives constructive critiques rather than being tough just for the sake of being tough. It’s that last bit that I think some physics departments don’t quite grasp: often they put on a tough front and pride themselves on it, and lose sight of the fact that in order to be effect, this approach has to have a constructive end. Otherwise it really IS just macho posturing. (Sorry, guys!)

    As a side note, to assume that only boys like and enjoy intellectual challenges is, well, a bit naive and overly simplistic. Ditto for anyone who things girls can’t be ruthlessly aggressive; they’re just aggressive in different ways. “The female of the species is deadlier than the male,” per Kipling — frankly, facing a group of women scares me a lot more than facing a group of men sometimes…. 🙂

    To reiterate: The focus of efforts like The Feminist Press project isn’t meant to water anything down at all, merely to address the pronounced lack of confidence that seems to hit young girls around junior high, reducing the likelihood that they will perservere in their scientific interests. Anything that can help boost their confidence is a goodthing — not by making it seem easy, but by making them realize it’s a hard thing that (a) is worth the effort and (b) is something they can do.

  12. Ditto for anyone who things girls can’t be ruthlessly aggressive; they’re just aggressive in different ways

    isn’t that a generalization?

  13. “You guys aren’t cut out for the sciences.”
    I don’t know if you found those discouraging, but for young boys, those kinds of statements are challenges. They don’t discourage extra effort, young boys get told they can’t do stuff all the time, and it doesn’t seem to stop them.”

    This has been bugging me the whole way home. There is a world of difference between the statements “You guys aren’t cut out for the sciences” and “Women aren’t cut out for the sciences”, which is what I think you’re driving at with that example.

    The first is an individual challenge. It’s motivating because the only thing in question is personal abilities. It sets up a battle you can win; one vs. one, you think I’m dumb, I’ll prove you wrong.

    To rise up to the second statement, however, the woman doesn’t only have to prove that she is personally capable, she has to prove her whole gender is cut out for it too. The first statement asks you to push your own limits. The second demands that you rise above your biological makeup. It’s a rigged fight.

  14. Garbage collection needs labor. Science needs winners against all odds. Filling classes with privileged minorities via social activism outputs expensive mediocrities. Pressure and heat make diamonds.

    The future keeps score.

  15. Garbage collection needs labor. Science needs winners against all odds. Filling classes with privileged minorities via social activism outputs expensive mediocrities. Pressure and heat make diamonds.

    The future keeps score.

    That’s as well-polished a turd as I’ve seen any troll drop in a comment thread in all my years on the internets. Three sentences of meaningless twaddle (1, 4 and 5), two of outrageous bullshit and absolutely no substance whatsoever. Dude, you’re good.

  16. Is it too late to comment?

    For the record, I am a man who strongly dislikes the aggressiveness I see in many other physicists. There is also a world of difference between pointless argumentativeness and actual constructive criticisms and questions, and I don’t think it’s difficult to distinguish the two during an actual talk or conversation.

    As a professional culture, don’t we glorify aggressiveness? I don’t know what he was like in real life, but when I read Feynman stories he just comes off as pointlessly aggressive most of the time — and this is a guy young physicists want to emulate. I’ve met lots of people that seem like all they’re really doing is trying to prove they’re smarter than everyone else. I think this is a pervasive problem that turns a lot of people off to physics, not just women. But imagine that you’re someone who doesn’t feel entitled to be a physicist because people have been telling you, say, “Women don’t do physics.” Maybe you’re on the fence about it because you want to do it but you don’t know that you can hack it and there aren’t that many other women you can use as a role model. Well, it’s not that hard for me to imagine being turned off by this culture.

  17. There is a big difference between saying, “you are a moron” and “you forgot to calculate an important source of systematic errors so your conclusions are wrong.” One is a personal attack, the other is methodological statement. Keeping the statements made during a seminar about the science instead about personal issues is a professional obligation and will do a lot to keep good people in science.

    BUT….

    I’ve been to seminars and student presentations where the questions were all “on topic”… and yet the persistence, and the tone, and the implied “you should know this and you are stupid” that comes with the tone and the repeated pushing of some questions, end up leaving the student feeling like a piece of shit.

    Is that really the goal?

    I had two undergrads doing research with me one year, who were both very good, and both very much on the same level. One of them had good experiences in a presentation to the astronomer and in his honors thesis defense; the other, despite having presentations that were just as good, a very painful one. The reason was just who else was in the room and the nature of the questions. A transcript of the questions would not leave any of you thinking that improprer questions had been asked.

    We’re *not* talking about people saying “you are a moron.” But it is entirely possible to ask “legitimate” questions in a way as to get that opinion very clearly across. That’s the kind of aggressiveness that I think is a real problem in science.

    Insofar as men in college have been trained to be more self-confident and pigheaded in the face of withering criticism than women in college have been trained to do so, the effects of this can be different on men and women. In the end, though, we have to recognize that we’re all human, and that some of what seems to be legitimate questioning sometimes comes accross as an attack.

    -Rob

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