I will not be silent any longer about the way women and people of color in science and leadership are treated

A post by Anne JeffersonAs my daughter plays paleontologist in the next room, I’m thinking about three stories from the last few months. They are stories that illustrate why despite the progress women and minorities have made in the past few decades we still have so far to go before we get anywhere near true gender parity in science and leadership. They are stories that show how far some people will go to silence women and minority voices, and how those silencers are in positions of power or aided and abetted by those who are.

In June, rock star scientist “Canopy” Meg Lowman was, with no public explanation, stripped of her directorship of the Nature Research Center at the North Carolina Museum of Natural Sciences. As director of the Nature Research Center, Lowman, an incredibly distinguished scientist in her own right, was the supervisor of scientists working in innovative ways, directly with the public. The mission of the Nature Research Center is to “bring research scientists and their work into the public eye, help demystify what can be an intimidating field of study, better prepare science educators and students, and inspire a new generation of young scientists.” What better person to help the center succeed at its mission than its charismatic director, Dr. Lowman? But instead, the museum’s leader demoted her to Senior Scientist, took away her direct supervisorial responsibilities, and spent a bunch of ink emphasizing how she would still be a “female leader” and a “role model to girls and women in science.” Personally, as a woman in science and mother of a girl in science, I thought Dr. Lowman was much better able to be a leader and role model as director of the research center than just as senior scientist. But clearly, those with power didn’t want her voice and authority to be too loud. It’s OK for Dr. Lowman to talk about “women stuff” but she shouldn’t presume to go beyond that.

In July, in the UK, female activists campaigned for Jane Austen to be featured on a bank note, after the Bank of England, which regularly changes up who is on their currency, decided to replace Elisabeth Fry with Winston Churchill. This change would have left the UK with the Queen as only the female on their currency. In response to this campaign, the activists were treated to voluminous death and rape threats on Twitter. When female politicians voiced their support for the activists and Jane Austen, they too were threatened. So were the female journalists who covered the story (and only the female journalists, not the men). The intent of those who threatened the activists, MPs, and journalists was to silence women’s voices and put these women “in their place” and out of the public sphere. While any one individual did not have much power, their use of threats and mob mentality became a way to exert power over the women involved.

This week, scientist Danielle Lee, who blogs at The Urban Scientist politely declined a request to blog for free at biology-online.org. The editor who had solicited her work responded thusly: “Are you an urban scientist or an urban whore?” That’s right, a polite declination to provide her professional services earned Danielle the sexist, racist label “urban whore.” Danielle, an amazingly strong woman, role model, and inspiration, turned that response into a teachable moment. She posted a video explaining why she declined the request to blog for biology-online.org:

Danielle also wrote a blog post that documented her correspondence with the editor of biology-online and why their response was utterly and completely inappropriate. That post originally appeared at The Urban Scientist, which is part of the Scientific American blog network, but at some point yesterday, the management of Scientific American decided to take it down. The only explanation they have provided so far is a tweet from their editor in chief:


They also deny that the decision to take down Danielle’s post was because of Scientific American’s partner relationship with biology-online. Many have questioned why then this post of Danielle’s was targeted for take-down when other posts on the network, which were not for “discovering science” have been allowed to remain. Regardless of Scientific American’s intent, to all outside observers this appears to be yet another example of a woman being silenced by those with power. Fortunately, the Internet doesn’t forget, and copies of Danielle’s post have been made available in lots of places with true control over their content. This behavior by must also be causing the extremely well-regarded women who blog at Scientific American and who occasionally post on issues around gender and race in the sciences and society to be reconsidering their relationship with the publisher. If I were a blogger at Scientific American writing even occasionally about the profession of science, I’d be wondering if they had my back at all.

More broadly conversation about Danielle’s treatment, first by biology-online and then by Scientific American, has reminded me of the wider issues in our treatment of women and minorities in science and leadership. For all those wondering why we still lack diversity in STEM, Scientific American’s actions illustrate the problem quite nicely. First, we have to put up with harassment from jerks like the editor of biology-online. Then, we call out that bad behavior, respected institutions ignore, or worse censor us. It sends a pretty clear message: “We don’t want you here.” Or as Khadijah M. Britton refined my thoughts: “We only want you as a token to make us look good until you “cause drama” or “get emotional,” then you are out.” That sentiment matches perfectly with what Danielle said in her video: “For far too long, the presumption has been that if you are a woman, or a person of color, or from a lower socio-economic status that folks think that they can get you, your talent, your expertise, and your energy for free.” As Lara Deruisseau said “This perpetuates fear of women standing up for themselves when wronged. Unknown rules come out of the woodwork.” While those with power may try to silence Danielle, they won’t succeed, and in their efforts they awoke hundreds of us to their true nature. We are #standingwithDNLee. And while I had been planning a print subscription to Scientific American for a family Christmas present, I’m no longer going to give them money.

These stories also remind us not to sit back and wait for some unseen hand to slowly right the wrongs of the past, because when we do, we allow those wrongs to be perpetuated and inflicted on new generations of women and minorities. And we are talking about generations: As a female scientist in the mid-to-late 20th century, my mother faced blatant discrimination and harassment. As a female scientist of the early 21st century, I’ve experienced more subtle, but still pernicious discrimination and harassment too. At the current rate of change, my daughter, whether should she choose to pursue a career in the sciences or focus on her passions in the political field, will be discriminated against and harassed too. I’m not going to wait for that to happen, instead I’m going to use all the voice I have to push our society, and particularly those with power in it, to make things better, faster. And if someone tries to silence me, there will be more voices raised, more calls to arms. Now is the time we raise our voices and say “The way we treat women and people of color is not acceptable. We will not be silenced any longer.”

P.S. You know what’s playing in our house now? The soundtrack to Matilda the musical. I think there’s quite a bit of power in the lyrics to this song. And my daughter knows the words by heart. That gives me hope.

http://youtu.be/Q6Xn9JW9ceI

Categories: bloggery, by Anne, ranting, society

4 weekends in Cuyahoga Valley National Park

A post by Chris RowanA post by Anne JeffersonWe may have been a bit remiss in sharing it with the Internet, but we’ve been enjoying our weekends here in Ohio, as late summer has faded into autumn (or Fall, which even Chris admits is a nicely evocative name). Just down the road, the Cuyahoga Valley National Park has been an ample source of scenery, hiking, and wildlife, and we’ve managed to make it over there each of the last four weekends. In mid-September, we hiked to the lovely Buttermilk Falls.

Buttermilk Falls in Cuyahoga National Park.

Buttermilk Falls, Cuyahoga National Park, Ohio. Photo: Chris Rowan, 2013

The following week, Anne led a class field trip to explore the processes that shape the Crooked River (aka, the Cuyahoga).

rocks and water in foreground, red covered bridge in background.

Everett Covered Bridge peeks out above Furnace Run in Cuyahoga Valley National Park, 21 September 2013. This was one of three sites in the National Park where Anne’s Fluvial Processes class visited on their weekend field trip. Photo by A. Jefferson.

And last week saw another excursion to Beaver Marsh, a lovely spot we first explored last February.

Dead tree emerging from lilypad dotted water, with forest and gray sky in the background.

Beaver Marsh in Cuyahoga Valley National Park, 29 September 2013. Photo by A. Jefferson

Sadly, this week our options were somewhat limited.

Gate with sign spanning road. Tree-lined parking lot in the background.

Towpath Trail parking in Peninsula, in the heart of Cuyahoga Valley National Park, 5 October 2013. On a normal autumn weekend day, this lot would be full to capacity. Today it sat empty, with potential visitors gated out.

"Because of the federal government shutdown, this National Park Service facility is closed."

Close-up of the gate, 5 October 2013.

Things in this National Park are a bit more complicated than in others: you can’t just close the access roads because people live within its borders and some of the paths and land are owned by local regional park authorities. So we were able to visit the town of Peninsula inside the park borders (which is already seeing the effects of the shutdown) but a nice wander along the canal towpath was out. Hopefully, not all our autumn weekends will look like this.

Categories: photos, ranting

Talking ANDRILL

A post by Chris RowanA post by Anne JeffersonThe Antarctic Geological Drilling Project – ANDRILL – is an ambitious program of drilling down to the sediments deposited around Antarctica in the past few tens of millions of years, to unravel the history of the Antarctic ice sheets: how and when they formed, and how they have waxed and waned in response to shifts in the Earth’s climate. We say ambitious because in order to access these valuable records, you have to drop a drill rig onto one of the Antarctic ice shelves, drill through it, lower your drill string through several hundred metres of icy water that said shelf is floating on, and then start recovering core. Did we mention the drill rig is on top of a floating Antarctic ice shelf?

Where ANDRILL...drills.

Where ANDRILL…drills.

This is impressive stuff just on technical grounds alone. But as we discovered when David Harwood from the University of Nebraska, one of the ANDRILL chief scientists, gave a seminar in our department last Friday, the science coming out of the retrieved cores is even more impressive – and important, because it suggests that the Antarctic ice sheets, particularly the West Antarctic ice sheet, are rather more sensitive to small changes in global temperatures that had previously been assumed – something to consider the ANDRILL site for more details, particularly a simplified but still very cool interactive tool on the ‘Media’ page that allows you to explore how the waxing and waning of the ice shelves with temperature variations show up in sedimentary core records.

http://storify.com/allochthonous/kent-colloquium-andrill

Categories: Cenozoic, climate science, past worlds

What the kids are interested in these days

One of the courses I teach at Kent is an introductory geology course called ‘Earth Dynamics’. In my first lecture of term last week, I gave my new class a brief survey to get an idea of their previous exposure to geology and their interest in the course. The students in this class are mainly non-geology majors, so it provides an interesting insight into the experience and concerns of the less rock-obsessed, who are nonetheless interested enough* to give geology a try.

First, I asked: Have you any previous exposure to geology before this course (lessons at high school, trips to places such as Yellowstone National Park, TV specials, books etc.)?

From the answers it seems that many American high school science courses do offer some sort of basic introduction to geology, although I’m hardly drilling down into the scope of this instruction, or whether it was particularly engaging (my pre-university geological education in the UK consisted of a barely memorable lesson or two in Chemistry). Unsurprisingly, TV (particularly National Geographic and the Discovery Channel, whatever the latter’s recent sins) is also a fairly common source of exposure, whereas books – perhaps also unsurprisingly (and depressingly) – are not. What is perhaps more interesting is how many people listed could recount personal experiences that they counted as being geological in nature – a sign that all those information boards in the National Parks make some kind of impression, perhaps?

Next I asked: from the schedule of topics listed in the syllabus, are there any topics that are of particular interest? Is there any topic not mentioned that you are interested in learning about?

Very few people went outside the (fairly generic) weekly topic list in the syllabus (which probably explains the poor showing of fossils). I could probably have predicted that there would be plenty of interest focussed on climate change, earthquakes, and volcanoes, and I am contractually obliged by my co-blogger to show no surprise at the strong showing of things water related, but the relative popularity or unpopularity of some of the other topics were more surprising. Although they are a core part of geology, I didn’t think people would start off the course thinking Rocks and Minerals or Dating and Interpreting Rocks were necessarily interesting, although it does suggest that my class are well aware of what they were getting into when they signed up for the course. Given our proximity to fracking country, I might have expected more interest in Earth Resources, as well.

Of course, a single snapshot from one class in one year at one university somewhat limits what you can say. But it’s always nice to get some impression of what your students are thinking.

*or, yes, intimidated by the likes of physics and pursuing what is regarded as the easy science option. They’ll learn…

Categories: academic life, teaching

Scenic Saturday: our stripy oceans, explained 50 years ago today!

A post by Chris RowanA slightly different Scenic Saturday this weekend, as we celebrate an important milestone in geological science: a look at the South Pacific through a geophysical lens.

S Pacific magnetic anomalies

Magnetic anomalies in the South Pacific: part of the World Magnetic Anomaly Map, via a Useful KML file from San Diego State University

The colours on this map show fluctuations in the Earth’s magnetic field produced by strongly magnetised bits of the Earth’s crust: reds and purples show where the crust is magnetised in the same direction as the current magnetic field, and give it a bit of a boost: blues show where it is magnetised in the opposite direction, and cancel some of it out.

You can’t miss that when viewed through magnetic eyes, the Earth’s ocean basins are distinctly stripy. When geophysicists first started mapping the seafloor in earnest with sonar and magnetometers in the 1950s, the only thing more surprising than the discovery of a 60,000 km linear chain of mountains running through the middle of most oceans was the long linear areas of positively and negatively magnetised crust that paralleled the trend of these mid-ocean ridges. But 50 years ago today, a paper was published in Nature that purported to explain this grand geophysical mystery. Fred Vine and Drummond Matthews thought through the consequences of the hypothesis put forward by Harry Hess, that new oceanic crust was being continuously produced by the eruption of basalt at mid-ocean ridges. When combined with the facts that newly cooled basalt has a strong remanent magnetisation aligned with the ambient magnetic field, and that the Earth’s magnetic field reverses its polarity every million years or so. Vine and Matthews* argued that if seafloor spreading was indeed occurring at mid-ocean ridges, then linear positive and negative magnetic anomalies, formed from crust produced in normal and reversed polarity chrons, would form a symmetric pattern around the mid-ocean ridges, which is exactly what we see.

Despite some of the coverage in the past few days, the publication of the Vine and Matthews paper does not really mark the “birth of plate tectonics”. No scientific revolution really happens overnight; you will never see a scientific community collectively double-take and say, ‘Doh! That’s so obvious! Why didn’t I realise that before?!’. This is just one step on a journey that started before even Alfred Wegner’s theory of continental drift, and continued into at least the late 1960s, when the idea of rigid plates was formalised, and even the 1970s, when the wider geological community finally took notice of what those crazy marine geophysicists were up to. For the full story – told far better than I ever could – read this great piece by Naomi Oreskes. Nonetheless, publication of the Vine and Matthews paper was an important milestone in the development of plate tectonics, because it demonstrated how an observation that was very hard to explain without invoking plate tectonic processes became very easy to explain if you did; and it is that sort of achievement that makes other scientists start to take notice of an upstart new theory.

I’ve therefore taken to thinking of this week as marking 50 years since the turning of the tide. Last night, I applied a bit of geonerdery in the kitchen and created a commemorative pie crust to mark this anniversary.

Magnetic anomaly pie crust

Anomalies on a (pie) crust.

Perhaps not quite as pretty as an ocean magnetic anomaly map; but much more tasty.

*Vine and Matthews share the credit with Lawrence Morley, who came up with the same explanation but was less successful in getting it published.

Categories: geology, palaeomagic, tectonics