Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 15

"He actually said 'man'?" Roger was shocked.

"Oh, yes. He repeated it because I asked him who would be a good candidate and he said 'Jonathan Wright is the best man for the job'."

"Jonathan and I had collaborated on a project, though we had completely different methods of working. Jonathan was fastidious, precise and clinical. To write a paper, he would sit in his chair and think; then he would dictate the paper fluently from beginning to end. Afterward, he would check it over, make a few minor changes and the result would be perfect."

"As you know, I'm the opposite. I start off with a blank page and write down my ideas as they come; but they come in the most haphazard and idiotic order. I start somewhere in the middle and then work a little forward, then I leap backward and the paper looks like a jumbled mess until, near the end, when it all comes into focus. I love that feeling, of order emerging from chaos. I also think my wild way of working produces new ideas because I see links that I wouldn't see if my ideas ran on rails."

"Anyway, the post-doc position depended on results, not on conforming to any particular method, and my results were better than Jonathan's. I pointed this out but my supervisor still insisted I wouldn't fit into the program, so it was a waste of time my applying."

"What did you do?"

"I applied, of course."

"That's my girl!"

"I also had a rant to Eva, who offered to mobilise the sisterhood on my behalf, but I declined. I could fix the problem myself."

"It turned out that Jonathan and I were the only two candidates of that year's intake to make it to the interview stage. I prepared for the interview by studying what the team were working on and speaking to a couple of team-members until I knew the subject inside out."

"When the date for the interview was published, I learned that my supervisor was leading the panel of examiners. That was unusual."

"It was very unusual," Roger agreed. "So, tell me, who was your supervisor?"

"Professor Jakovs."

"Hendrik Jakovs? The man who recommended you for the academic position on Celetaris? The man you're now going to work with?"

"The very man."

"What changed his mind?"

"You mean, why is he recommending me for an academic position now though he refused six years ago? I guess because he's seen my work. And, of course, he was right all along. He knew I needed to make an impact first, then I could go into teaching with some real-life experience. But we're getting ahead of ourselves."

"Professor Jakovs offered to recuse himself," Danielle continued, "but I told him I trusted him to be fair. Then came the examination and it was the hardest test of my career. There were three examiners, all men: Professor Jakovs, a man from Harvard and a man from Oxford. The other two barely spoke. In fact, the Harvard man looked at his computer the whole time."

"It was Professor Jakovs who did the interview, and he was the most ruthless questioner I've ever met. All my preparation was useless. He asked me nothing about the project the team were working on but launched into the most complex subjects at the cutting-edge of science. He demanded I do huge calculations and solve equations in my head."

"One of the equations was so monstrous that I asked for a computer and was told to make a guess. I did guess and they only nodded, except for the Harvard man who tapped away. A few minutes after I'd solved the equation he looked up and said: 'Only 2% out, not bad.' Then he went back to tapping on his computer."

"That was the high point. As the difficult questions flowed, I got angry. Anger actually helped me. It made me try harder. You know I like a challenge. I like a challenge even more when I'm being pushed, and Hendrik Jakovs was pushing me hard."

"At the end of the grilling, I was relieved but what made me angry again was the calm way that they simply said 'Thank you' and dismissed me, as if it had been a normal examination. They must have known it was an extraordinary performance."

"Anyway, I meekly left; but I was really fuming an hour later when I met Jonathan and learned that he'd sailed through his examination. He answered a few easy questions and then had a long chat about how the team worked and what he hoped to gain from the next few years."

"When Professor Jakovs told me that they'd selected Jonathan, I asked him point blank if I ever had a chance. 'No', he said, and repeated what he said before: I wasn't the right man for the job."

"I needed to vent, so I ranted to Eva again. She insisted we make a stink about it and, having refused before, I now went along with it. It seemed no coincidence that all the members of the selection committee and the project-team were men. A couple of days later, I got three job offers. They were all industry jobs. All of them cutting-edge science and engineering. All of them really well-paid with sweeteners.

The most curious one was from Oakshott Industries. It had the lowest salary and wasn't that specific about the work but it contained the equation I had tried to work out in my head during the examination. Beside the equation, Stephen Oakshott had written:"

"Dear Goldrick, if you got this equation right to 2% just in your head, under stressful conditions, then you're perfect for us. We can give you harder tasks under worse conditions and a sense of satisfaction limited only by your ambition."

"That got me: it was a challenge. I told my feminist friends to drop the case: I was leaving Caltech and going to work in Cambridge. I left without saying goodbye to either Professor Jakovs or Jonathan."

"It was a few months later, after I'd settled into my new job, learning the ropes as the only female engineer in my department, revelling in the difference between the commercial world and the academic world, that I asked Stephen why he made me the job offer. He said that the Oxford man at my examination was his recruiter. He made the recommendation; but it was Professor Jakovs who had sent in my CV a month previously."

"I was surprised but I realised that Professor Jakovs had been right all along. I was better suited to an industry job, with its high pressure deadlines and need to balance the books, while Jonathan was better suited to open-ended academic research and teaching. Of course, the way Professor Jakovs had said it was deliberately designed to rile a young and doctrinaire feminist."

"I also realised that, in the examination, Professor Jakovs asked such difficult questions because he was showing me off to the other judges."

"So, a year after I joined Oakshott Industries, I was a team-leader and we were bidding for a contract to work on part of the Beltway Hyperspace Project. A year later, we won the contract with an innovative design for the hyperspace junctions. I won an industry award for that work and both my career and Oakshott Industries took off. A year after that, I was back at Caltech, invited to the 'Women in Science' conference as a guest-speaker."

"Eva Welwyn was now head of the Women's Studies department. She invited six women who were at the top of their fields or in the news (as I was) to speak on their experience of sexual inequality in science. She acted as moderator and introduced each speaker. The hall was packed and the front rows were stuffed with big-wigs from the universities, as many men as women. The men sat there beaming with smug self-congratulation."

"Almost all the speakers wore the standard feminist uniform of a blue or grey trouser-suit (we can't be seen in skirts or girly colours) and high heels. We also spent hours on our makeup and hair. We told each other we were doing it to 'empower' ourselves, not for the sake of men."

"The exception was the woman next to me. A pleasant middle-aged lady with grey hair in a bob, a tweed jacket, tweed skirt and comfortable shoes. Her half-moon glasses on a string around her neck made her look like a traditional English school-marm; but she was the only one of us who was truly empowered. She dressed to please herself and didn't care what anyone thought, neither men nor the sisterhood; and she brought her knitting in her handbag for when she got bored."

"Eva introduced the first speaker, a sociologist who gave an over-view of the problem, using the standard data that had been the same for centuries: only 20% of all scientists are women; fewer than 10% in the hard sciences; only 6% of mechanical engineers are women; and fewer than 3% of mathematicians. It was the usual stuff with the usual interpretation: the cause was bigotry and favouritism by the male establishment and the only answer was quotas and special help for girls."

"I had a difficulty because that was more or less what my speech said. I'd looked up the statistics and written about breaking down prejudice and not wasting the abilities of women. When the second speaker said the same thing, with the variation that she was an economist not a sociologist, I knew I had to modify my speech. So I began to think about the statistics, to drill down into their sources and analyse the underlying cause of the sexual disparity."

"You know I'm good at that kind of analysis and pretty soon I realised that the standard feminist interpretation was unnecessary. Three years before, I might have somnolently accepted the guff about prejudice and barriers, but working in the real world had taught me differently. As the speeches went on, I unpicked the arguments and proposed alternative interpretations."

"I'm not saying there's no prejudice, nor denying an old-boy's network or inbuilt advantages. I'm saying that prejudice need not be the exclusive explanation for different outcomes between the sexes. For example, maybe few women want to be engineers because it still can be dirty and dangerous work. Or maybe men are naturally better at maths and physics, whereas women are better as psychology and the humanities."

"Maybe there are cultural reasons why women don't go into science that have more to do with money and social prestige than sex. Maybe, because girls develop sexually earlier than boys, at the age when brains ought to be crammed with maths and science, girls are distracted by raging hormones but boys have another year or two of equilibrium. Maybe women hold other women back by disparaging science-minded students as unpopular 'geeks' and 'nerds' in an academic environment where girls are far more conformist than boys."

"While I pondered these ideas and reconstructed my speech, I kept an ear out for what the speakers were saying. It was Eva talking now and she was telling the story of a friend of hers who had been unfairly passed over for a prestigious position. Even though she had out-performed a man in all tests, the man had been chosen ahead of her only because he had testicles."

"As Eva was telling this story, and the audience (including me) was feeling a vicarious sense of injustice for the poor mistreated victim, I noticed Jonathan in the audience a few rows from the front. I saw him catch my eye and gave him a little wave and a big smile. His face went bright red and he looked down. It was then that I realised what I'd been listening to. Eva was telling my story and I'd waved and smiled at Jonathan just as he'd been accused of undeservedly taking my rightful place. It looked to him like I was smugly rubbing it in that I'd come back in triumph."

"Eva finished her introduction and, as the audience clapped to welcome me to the podium, Jonathan - horribly embarrassed - got up and made his way to the exit. I was ashamed. I grabbed my communicator and sent him a message, asking him not to leave, telling him it was a misunderstanding and that I'd put it right. I was relieved when I saw him read the message. He stopped at the door, turned and waited. I smiled at him again and launched into my speech."

"I'm afraid I lost Eva's friendship that day. I began by briefly telling the true story of the post-doc competition, adding that the right man got the job, fairly and squarely. Then I began to tear apart the standard feminist explanation for why there are fewer women in maths, science and engineering than men. I may have gone a little too far the other way, saying that five centuries of encouragement for girls to study the hard sciences hasn't made the slightest but of difference, so we should conclude that most girls just don't want to."

"I also said it was significant that nearly half of students in the soft sciences are women but less than a tenth in the hard sciences, which even suggests that most girls are just not up to it."

"The audience were not thrilled by my speech: the men in the front row were even more outraged than the women. If my last comment caused a few disapproving noises, my next remark caused howls. I said that some of the soft sciences - such as sociology and political economy - shouldn't be called sciences at all, and that the softest of all soft sciences was women's studies."

"Having dropped a cat among the pigeons, I went back to my seat. But before I got there, my grey-haired neighbour got up and said to me: 'That needed to be said, young lady, but it was all negative. Now give us the positive: tell us what it's like being a woman in science.'"

"She was right. I'd forgotten my purpose, which was to encourage girls to study science, so I went back and in my remaining time described what it was like to be the only woman in a department of male engineers and astrophysicists."

"What is it like?" Roger asked, knowing the answer.

"It's brilliant! It's not always perfect, of course. Men can be childish and competitive; but women can be bitchy and back-stabbing. In general, I'd rather work with men. It may be different in science and engineering because, if there's one woman in the team, she tends to become team-leader, perhaps because it quells arguments between the men."

"There's also old-fashioned condescending patronizing chivalry - which I love. In our office, as the only woman, I get a bathroom all to myself. It's even better when we're on an engineering rig somewhere out in space and I'm the only woman among a dozen men. I didn't give all the details in my speech but I gave them the gist."

"So tell me the details," Roger said.

"Well, the riggers are big brawny men, tough men, doing jobs even robots can't do. They work hard, swear furiously and sometimes fight among themselves but the swearing and rough-housing stops when I'm on site. And, as you'd expect, I'm treated like royalty."

"On my the first trip to a space-rig, the living quarters had two bathrooms and two dormitories for twelve guys, so I entirely expected to bunk up with them and share the bathroom. They wouldn't allow it but moved the beds around and squashed themselves in so I had a room to myself. They also insisted I use one of the bathrooms exclusively. I was grateful for that when I saw how dirty men can be without women to civilise them. It took the robots hours to clean it before I could use it."

"Some of the younger men complained about me getting special treatment but an older man said 'Get married and you'll change your mind. I wouldn't want my wife or daughter to share a bathroom with you filthy apes!' So that was that."

"When we went to a base for supplies or a break, I got escorted wherever I go like a precious cargo. Some of the bases are frontier settlements and conditions are pretty rough but there's no real danger and, anyway, I didn't really need their protection, but the guys enjoyed being my honour-guard."

"Feminists say I should object when men treat me as a weak and feeble woman or expect me to act like a lady in return, but the space-rigs are dangerous places and the men have evolved a system of rules that works for them. I was only a temporary visitor, so I went along with it. Besides, I like having men stand up when I enter a room and open doors for me. They don't really think I'm weak and feeble. It's a game more than anything."

"Are you sure your looks had nothing to do with their chivalry?"

"Of course I'm sure. In the first place, I'm not that good-looking."

Roger's protests were not just gallantry.

"In the second place, every woman was treated that way, regardless of her age or looks.

"I see," Roger said. "So how are men at taking orders from you?"

"Completely professional. In science and businesses, at least, I've never found sex to make a difference."

"All right, my 'weak and feeble woman'. You know you're quoting Queen Elizabeth the First?"

"Oh, yes. I listen to you sometimes."

She went on: "I ended my speech by saying that those who most encouraged me to be an astrophysicist were my brother, my father, my university physics lecturer, professor Hendrik and Stephen Oakshott - all men; and the only one who tried to discourage me was my mother, who wanted me to be a concert pianist or an equestrian."

"So, that's the story of how I stopped being a feminist; and the best thing was, I got hundred of messages from girls saying that I inspired them to study science. It was very gratifying."

"It's a good story, but is that everything? Who was the grey-haired woman?"

"Ah! I forgot to tell you. Can you guess? She's a mathematician, not only the top of her field but almost the only woman in her field."

"Dorothy Martlebury."

"Exactly. Dot Martlebury, who's going to Celetaris to teach programmable maths to young Herman, among others."

"How did her speech go down? I don't imagine she's a radical feminist."

"No, Dot isn't a feminist at all. She was there to encourage girls to go into maths. She thinks the main problem is not male dominance but female peer-pressure."

"Dot endorsed my analysis of the statistics and added a few choice observations of her own. For instance, she skewered the smug men in the front row by saying how she'd gone to meetings about discrimination against women in science and the men there had been so satisfied by their own progressive virtues that they hogged the platform and didn't allow any of the women to speak."

Roger laughed.

"There was also something you said about Hendrik Jakovs deliberately baiting you as a feminist. Why was that?" he asked.

"Ah, yes. That's one of the ironies of the story. You see, although Professor Jakovs understood my skills and preferences better than me, and he went out of his way to find me three good job-offers, yet he's actually the most dreadful old misogynist."

"He is?"

"Absolutely. He hates women, especially when we're outside our proper settings of the kitchen or the bedroom. He's not an ordinary chauvinist, however. He doesn't think women are mentally inferior: we're just emotionally weak. He has a morbid fear of human sentiment, especially a crying child or a distraught woman. I've seen him cross the street rather than meet a student who'd just broken up with her boyfriend and might have needed comforting."

"He's quite comical sometimes. As a professor, he's concerned with more than a student's academic performance: some students also need personal advice. If a female student comes to him for comfort or reassurance, however, you could see him become edgy and start to fidget. Eventually he would persuade her to speak to a counsellor or he would make an excuse and leave the room, never to return."

"As his PhD student, I eventually looked after all his female under-graduates."

"So why did he invite you to Celetaris, rather than a man?" Roger wondered.

"As I say, he's seen my work. And, also, I'm not one of those needy women he despises, so he can treat me as a brain, not as a bag of emotions."

"So what happened with your feminist friend?"

"I took Eva to dinner, to apologise, but we ended up having a big row. She objected more to what I said about women's studies than what I said about feminism. I agree I'm prejudiced against the soft sciences. It goes with the territory. We have a saying: 'There's only one science - physics - everything else is social work.'"