Persistent Sexual Harassment Is a Primary Reason Women Leave STEM 

Rather, it’s the kind that prioritizes men’s feelings, and their expression of them, over the simple act of treating a woman as a professional colleague. Jahren persuasively argues that the persistence of this kind of behavior—the constant demand from both male colleagues and academic advisors that their feelings be acknowledged and legitimized—is one of the reasons women leave STEM fields.

An email forwarded to Jahren by a former student asking her advice typifies the problem:

[The student] forwarded an email she had received from a senior colleague that opened, “Can I share something deeply personal with you?” Within the email, he detonates what he described as a “truth bomb”: “All I know is that from the first day I talked to you, there hadn’t been a single day or hour when you weren’t on my mind.” He tells her she is “incredibly attractive” and “adorably dorky.” He reminds her, in detail, of how he has helped her professionally: “I couldn’t believe the things I was compelled to do for you.” He describes being near her as “exhilarating and frustrating at the same time” and himself as “utterly unable to get a grip” as a result. He closes by assuring her, “That’s just the way things are and you’re gonna have to deal with me until one of us leaves.”

It’s hard to imagine that the sender of the email thought that it would earn him the romantic admiration of his female colleague, coupled as it is with a vague threat likely meant to convey the authentic intensity of his attraction. And yet, as Jahren writes, this behavior has “been encountered by every single woman I know.”

From my own experiences in academia, I imagine that women outside of STEM and in nearly every academic discipline could tell similar stories. And frankly, that’s why Jahren’s essay is simultaneously so enraging and depressing: if academia is supposed to be home to philosophically liberal and enlightened values, then how has the broader project of feminism failed to find much traction?

Over the weekend, I watched a handful of men—men who have PhDs from top universities, who are studied in feminist theory and teach at highly respected universities, defend sending so-called “love notes.” The foundation of their defense was a kind of misplaced, yet fundamental belief, that a man expressing his feelings is an inherent compliment and should be taken as such. The grand romantic gesture, after all, is the stuff of good movies and better novels. But that, of course, is fiction and, to borrow Anne Eliot’s words, “[they] were all written by men.”

Female colleagues aren’t simply sitting around waiting for a romantic declaration, which is what both the offenders and the defenders seem to believe. The expression of romantic feelings, without consent or encouragement, has little place at work, ultimately. While an unexpected passionate love letter might flutter hearts on screen or page, in real life, it tends to be demoralizing and creepy. But, as Jahren argues, it’s typical of being a woman in STEM; enduring such declarations is part of the unwritten job description.

Jahren advises women to, “draw strong professional boundaries and then to enforce them, not because she should have to, but because nobody else will.” She further suggests that women “document everything” so that male colleagues cannot present harassment as a “two-way emotional exchange.” Beyond that, she advises women who seek her advice, “to stick it out in science, but only because I cannot promise that other fields aren’t worse.”

Frankly, it’s no wonder so many women leave STEM. With an already heavy workload, the addition of constant tactical monitoring and emotional negotiation sounds exhausting.

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Image via Getty.