African women are locked out of tertiary science faculties

We like to think science is free from influence, that it is an objective formula that we apply to the world to create new knowledge. Through empirical studies, we tell ourselves, we can find absolute and repeatable answers to our questions. But that’s just not true.

The person asking the question matters. You and I could look at the same problem, see different facets of the issue, and put forward different ways of solving it. The richer the viewpoints, the better the outcome — the better the science. That is one of the reasons diversity matters in science: not because we need to tick quota boxes, but because if we don’t take advantage of this range of voices and ideas, we are poorer for it. Our science suffers and the progress we make using this science reflects the perspective of those doing the research, not those of the country.

I recently investigated the number of African women science graduates being produced by our universities and, to put it bluntly, the numbers just aren’t good enough. African women account for 32% of the country’s total science graduate output, a number that is significantly plumped up by the high number of African women being taught at previously disadvantaged institutions. At the top universities, the ones that produce most of the research in the country, African women are often the smallest demographic group among science graduates.

What this means in tangible terms is that by the time it comes to appointing lecturers or professors, the candidates just aren’t there. In 2016, when there was a push to allocate research chairs to women, out of the 42 awarded, only four went to African women.

It is also a self-fulfilling prophecy. Some of the major reasons cited for this “leaky pipeline” (as it is called, referring to the leaking of qualified African women out of the science system) is a lack of awareness around the job prospects for science academics and the idea that science isn’t really a career choice for African women. Those ideas can’t change if the academic cohort doesn’t change. How would young African women know that science is a possible field for them if they do not see African women teaching them? How can we transform the education system if the country’s — our — largest demographic group is struggling to get out of the gate?

It is not that people aren’t aware of the problem. Studies have shown that African women leave science mainly because of financial pressure and family expectations, but also because the age when women are doing their PhDs is also usually the time when they want to start families. This figure says it all: black women with doctorates represent 3% of SA’s academic staff.

IF LEFT TO ITS OWN DEVICES, OUR ACADEMIC SYSTEM WILL CONTINUE TO PERPETUATE THESE BARRIERS TO ENTRY

This means the women who make it through the system are the exceptions, rather than the rule. And wringing hands and talking about the woes of the “leaky pipeline” will not fix it. When I’ve interviewed senior African female academics and asked them how they got to where they are, one part of the answer is always the same: they were mentored and purposefully encouraged. If left to its own devices, our academic system will continue to perpetuate these barriers to entry, and lock large swathes of SA’s population out of science. Without interventions, nothing is going to change and we’ll be having the same discussion in a decade’s time.

Transformation in science should not be about ticking boxes. It is possible that the cure for cancer or a model for sustainable renewable energy is right now sitting inside the head of a young African girl who thinks science isn’t for her.