Confronting Harassment #STMchallenges

Tamara Goldin: After a childhood playing with dinosaur toys, Tamara studied geoscience and planetary science, ultimately specializing in large meteorite impacts and their catastrophic consequences – for example, for those poor dinosaurs. She obtained her PhD from the University of Arizona and her research career took her to institutes in Germany and Austria. She’s now Senior Editor at Nature Geoscience in London where she handles papers across the earth and planetary sciences.

Take a read of this month’s Nature Geoscience editorial which is about diversity & inclusivity in the geosciences. 

When I was a woman in science, I rarely thought of myself that way. As I made my way through my studies of geology and then planetary science, I seldom felt disadvantaged because of my gender. I was more concerned with completing my next problem set than whatever was being debated at the university’s women in science club. I thought it might be a distraction to my scientific progression to dwell on gender. It seemed to me that there were plenty of opportunities out there for me in planetary science and it was simply up to me to rise to the occasion and make the most of them.

“What I didn’t see through my rose-coloured glasses was an invisible disease lurking in the halls of academia. This disease was sexual harassment…”

I was idealistic and naïve – and, as I’ve now come to realise, very lucky. What I didn’t see through my rose-coloured glasses was an invisible disease lurking in the halls of academia. This disease was sexual harassment and it finally burst into plain sight under the media glare last year with a series of scandals (such as this and this) rocking the astronomy and planetary science communities.

By this time, I had left the academic track for the pastures of scientific publishing, but as case after case of sexual harassment unfolded – both in astronomy and across other scientific disciplines – I was horrified.

The cases in the news cannot be dismissed as isolated anomalies; studies of workplace culture reveal that they are part of a broader epidemic. A recent survey of the astronomy and planetary science communities found that harassment on the basis of gender is prevalent, with 32% of respondents saying they had been verbally harassed and 9% physically harassed on the basis of gender. 24% of respondents reported that they had felt unsafe because of their gender (and that’s not counting other sorts of harassment such as racial harassment). The vast majority of respondents said they had heard sexist or inappropriate remarks from superiors or fellow scientists.

“In other words, the harassment affected not only the advancement of careers, but also the advancement of science.”

The survey found that harassment led to scientists skipping conferences and classes and passing up opportunities. In other words, the harassment affected not only these individuals as people (which is horrible enough), but as scientists. The harassment affected their participation in normal scientific life, in collaborations, and for some it even resulted in them leaving the field altogether. It affected their scientific output. In other words, the harassment affected not only the advancement of careers, but also the advancement of science.

What that means is that sexual harassment in science is not just a workplace issue, but a problem that rests on the collective shoulders of scientific communities to confront. Yes, universities and research institutions need to stop trying to save face by sweeping sexual harassment claims under the rug, and instead enforce their anti-harassment policies, take disciplinary action against harassers, and provide support for victims. Employers need to make their work environments safe and free of harassment and discrimination. But scientific communities need to take on the broader responsibility of changing the community culture so that harassment – gender-based or otherwise – is no longer normal, tolerated, and accepted behaviour.

Indeed, there are community-led organizations and networks actively working to raise awareness about and confront harassment. In my field, these include Women in Planetary Science and the Earth Science Women’s Network.

Unsurprisingly, those actively participating in these sorts of organisations are often women. So, far too often the burden of the harassment problem is falling on those who either have experienced harassment or are the most at risk. Early career researchers have more than enough to worry about in carving out successful careers; they should not be doing all heavy lifting – especially as they have the least power to enact change at their institutions.

Backed by almost 400 signatures from across the astronomy, planetary science and physics communities, an open letter has called for senior community members to take a more active role and display stronger leadership in changing the broken culture and ending harassment. It argues that senior scientists have the greatest influence and the greatest power to improve institutional policies and push for their enforcement.

Only after scientific communities come together to make sexual harassment unwelcome, can we have academic workplaces that are fully inclusive and welcoming to women. As a woman in science, I was lucky that I avoided what is disturbingly common in my field.  Many women in science aren’t so lucky. Those women-in-science issues that I ignored in university are issues that all scientists should be confronting.