My Commonplace Book

Stanford neurobiologist Ben Barres has a unique perspective on gender discrimination in the math and science field.

An F2M transsexual who used to be Barbara Barres, he said his experience as both a man and a woman had given him an intensely personal insight into the biases that make it harder for women to succeed in science.

After his sex change nine years ago at the age of 42, another scientist who was unaware of it was heard to say, "Ben Barres gave a great seminar today, but then his work is much better than his sister's."

As an MIT undergraduate, Barbara was one of the only women in a large math class, and the only student to solve a particularly tough problem. The professor "told me my boyfriend must have solved it for me," he recalls. "If boys were raised to feel that they can't be good at mathematics, there would be very few who were."

Although Barbara Barres was a top student at MIT, "nearly every lab head I asked refused to let me do my thesis research" with him, Barres. "Most of my male friends had their first choice of labs. And I am still disappointed about the prestigious fellowship I lost to a male student when I was a Ph.D. student," even though the rival had published one prominent paper and she had six.

"By far," Barres wrote, "the main difference I have noticed is that people who don't know I am transgendered treat me with much more respect" than when he was a woman. "I can even complete a whole sentence without being interrupted by a man."

Barres didn't become an active feminist until January 2005, when Harvard president Lawrence H. Summers suggested that women lack the same "intrinsic aptitude" for science as men. Summers has apologized many times for the impact of his words, and he spoke later about the large impact of discrimination. But he has not totally repudiated the substance of his original remarks, which Barres finds galling. He finally responded with a four-page essay attacking Summers and others who hold the same view, published Thursday in the journal Nature. [Summary only; fee required for full text]

In his article, Barres cites a study showing that women had to be 2.5 times more productive to be considered competitive for research grants, compared with male applicants. For example, in 2004, the 64-person selection panel for NIH's annual Pioneer Award consisted of 60 men, and all nine $500,000 grants went to men. After Barres convinced NIH to change its procedures, the agency increased the number of women on the panel. In 2005, six of the 13 grants went to women.

In another study, researches devised a test that forces people to quickly associate terms with genders. The results revealed that most people - men and women - are less likely to associate scientific words with women than with men.

"I have learned that when it comes to prejudice it doesn't seem to matter so much what the facts are," he writes. "Many men have already decided that women are innately less good at this or that, and data saying otherwise won't always get them to change their minds."

With a beard, widow's peak, and middle-aged paunch, Barres, 51, looks and acts convincingly male. Someone who didn't know he was transgendered would probably fail to question his raspy voice, delicate fingers, or skinny but hairy legs. He didn't change gender until he was over 40 and already had tenure, but says he would have done so earlier if he had understood why he felt so uncomfortable in a woman's body.

Barres makes a point of saying that he never felt mistreated or held back as a female scientist. At the same time, he wonders if his personal experience somehow shielded him from the more insidious effects of gender bias. As a girl, she sensed she was somehow different from other people. "I wasn't subject to the same stereotype threat because I never identified with women when I was growing up," he said. "In a way that was one of the lucky things for me about being transgender."

But for many girls, these stereotypes and stigmas may keep them from pursuing a career they might love and excel in, Barres says. "From an early age, girls receive the messages that they are not good enough to do science subjects or will be less liked if they are good at it," he writes. "The messages come from many sources, including parents, friends, fellow students and, alas, teachers."

Barres argues that it's not that women are inherently less interested or talented in science, but that they are held back by bigotry. He believes a meritocracy unconsciously exists and scientists at the top of the ladder mean no harm but operate within a culture that holds different standards for men and women, and people are blind to their inherent biases.

Barres said he won't be surprised if the Nature article makes him the kind of lightning rod for criticism that Summers was last year. He said he is disappointed that more senior women faculty have remained silent on the issue.

"Women have heard this stuff so much from people like Larry Summers, some corner of their brain starts to believe it," he said.



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