Dr Sally Stephens, Director of Science
I like science fiction movies; not the scary alien ones, but the ones where people use a mix of science, technology, logic, common sense, a cool head and a good heart to win the day. That is why I enjoyed The Martian. But I liked it even more because it portrayed its female STEM experts in a very realistic, positive, multidimensional way. In real life the contributions of female scientists and other STEM specialists is often played down or overlooked, but Melissa Lewis, the mission’s commander and geologist, and Beth Johanssen, the systems operator and reactor technician, are characterised as knowledgeable, decisive, and brave. Fortuitously for stranded astronaut Mark Watney, back on Earth, NASA Satellite Communications Engineer, Mindy Park, adroitly uses the key scientific skills of observation, curiosity, and deductive reasoning to work out that he is still alive.
The movie even passed the Bechdel Test — a not-very-scientific, but often employed, measure of cinematic female agency and independence. Movies have to fulfil three conditions to pass the test: there must be at least two named female characters who talk to each other about something other than a man. They are trying to save a marooned male astronaut but the nature of the conversation between Lewis and Johanssen is one of two STEM professionals conferring on the logistics of preventing Mission Control from overriding the spacecraft’s navigation systems so that they can execute an unauthorised rescue mission. So, from my ‘science-centric’ perspective, it passes the Bechdel Test with flying colours because these female characters talk science.
You might wonder why I care so much about the way sci-fi films depict women. It’s because film is a big influence on how we see the world, ourselves, and our possible selves. Social Cognitive Theory tells us that people learn by observing others in the media; they take their behavioural cues from individuals they observe in movies. Cultivation Theory proposes that continuous exposure to a cultural message yields a long-term effect on viewers’ perceptions of that message (Rudy, Popova, & Linz, 2010). It is significant, then, that STEM professions are often depicted as traditionally male domains where women have either no place or ‘their’ place (Weingart, Muhl, & Pansegrau, 2003). The shows we watch can reflect these values but they can also reshape them. Films like The Martian, instead of perpetuating gender bias, are an asset in the fight against it.
Other films and television shows also depict women STEM specialists in a way that would inspire young STEM aspirants. Rey, the young heroine in the latest Star Wars offering, is portrayed as an accomplished pilot with prodigious technical and engineering skills. Ellie Arroway in Contact faces bureaucratic meddling and condescension from her male superiors but remains steadfast in her search for evidence of extra-terrestrial life. Dr Temperance Brennan in Bones and Abby Sciuto in NCIS rock forensic science in the real world, while Dr Ryan Stone in Gravity, Dr Grace Augustine in Avatar and Lieutenant-Colonel Samantha Carter in Stargate-SG1 are sci-fi flagbearers for STEM.
My personal favourite is astrophysicist Dr Jane Foster, from Thor, who experiences both a professional and personal ‘godsend’ when Thor falls to Earth through an Einstein-Rosen Bridge she has been studying. In interviews after the release of Thor, actor Natalie Portman revealed that the opportunity to play a positive female role model was what drew her to the role of Dr Foster and that she read the biography of unheralded chemist and DNA pioneer, Rosalind Franklin, to prepare for the part and to do justice to this STEM trailblazer.
The need for these inspirational and aspirational science women is clear. In 2015, at the same time as The Martian was depicting female STEM specialists as at least equal to their male counterparts, two other events shone a less optimistic light on the challenges facing real earth-bound women in these professions. At a lunch held for women science journalists in Seoul, South Korea, biochemist and Nobel Laureate Tim Hunt opined, ‘Let me tell you about my trouble with girls. Three things happen when they are in the lab: you fall in love with them; they fall in love with you; and when you criticise them, they cry’. Professor Hunt’s comments unleashed such an outpouring of anger that he was forced to resign his post of honorary professor at University College London.
Later that year, Sharon Bell and Lyn Yates (2015) released a mixed report on the careers of Australian women in science, particularly those in scientific research. They reviewed literature that provided data-driven evidence of persistent patterns of horizontal segregation (by discipline) and vertical segregation (by level of seniority) of female research personnel using data from 2001 to 2011. In 2001, around 57 per cent of those graduating with bachelor’s degrees in natural and physical sciences were women. Ten years later, the data revealed a pleasing increase in females achieving doctorates in the sciences and an increase in female representation at all levels of seniority of academic staff. While improving, the numbers were still nowhere near parity and the widening gap remained between men and women as professional rank increased.
Bell and Yates concluded that horizontal segregation of women in STEM disciplines appears to be ‘based on perceptions regarding women’s innate ability in science and mathematics, societal attitudes towards gender stereotypes and gender equality, and job security and employability of graduates’ (p. 10).They also concluded that vertical segregation in STEM disciplines that are characterised by high female participation is triggered by ‘the organisational culture of the workplace through practices that disadvantage women such as workload, cultures of long hours, promotions policies and practice, lack of female role models and sponsorship, lack of accommodation of carer responsibilities, and sex discrimination’ (p. 10).
Films and television shows can change these ‘perceptions’ by sending more progressive messages about who women are and the roles they can play in the traditionally male disciplines of science, technology, engineering and mathematics. The STEM challenges we face both nationally and globally are such that we cannot afford to squander the talents of a large section of our population because of their gender. Media makers and outlets need to step up so that our young female STEM aspirants can walk out of a cinema and think that, in twenty years’ time, they could be commanding a mission to Mars. I am not arguing for propaganda; just that STEM professional be added to or replace some of the current futures the media imagines for our girls: ‘real housewife’, bachelorette, or a competitor vying for the attention of the bachelor.
References
Bell, Sharon, & Yates, Lyn. (2015, September). Women in the science research workforce: Identifying and sustaining the diversity advantage. Melbourne: L. H. Martin Institute, University of Melbourne.
Rudy, R. M., Popova, L., & Linz, D. G. (2010). The context of current content analysis of gender roles: An introduction to a special issue. Sex Roles, 62(11–12), 705–720. Retrieved from http://doi.org/10.1007/s11199-010-9807-1
Weingart, P., Muhl, C., & Pansegrau, P. (2003). Of power maniacs and unethical geniuses: Science and scientists in fiction film. Public Understanding of Science, 12(3), 279–287. Retrieved from http://www.claudia-muhl.de/weingart-muhl-pansegrau_film.pdf