Date: Mon, 12 September 2022, 8:00PM-9:30PM AEST (11:00AM – 12:30PM BST)

Register: online.

About this event: (from the organisers)

In this event, we challenge the positive framing of REF and impact to examine the conditions in which this labour is undertaken, given what we know about cultures of digital hate. We understand academia as a sector with visibility built in, that can both be understood through frameworks relevant to public facing fields like celebrity and politics, and offer insights for understanding the harms of forced online visibility more generally. Therefore, insights can inform fields beyond ‘academia studies’, and be applied to digital hate more broadly. This event will ask how the politics of visibility and its unequally distributed risks shape our ability to contribute to public debate through online participation.

Speakers include:

• Dr Claire Sedgewick, Impact Officer at the University of Derby
• keisha bruce, PhD candidate at the University of Nottingham
• Jess Wren Butler, PhD candidate at Lancaster University
• Dr Gayle Brewer, Lecturer in Psychology, University of Liverpool
• Dr Xine Yao, Lecturer in American Literature to 1900, University College London
• Dr Zuleyka Zevallos, applied sociologist and senior policy researcher, living on Gadigal land (Sydney)

Hosted by Dr Hannah Yelin, Oxford Brookes University and Dr Laura Clancy, Lancaster University.

Each section includes a discussion of the theoretical and empirical literature, with practical, evidence-based solutions listed in text boxes, capturing my long-standing career in equity and diversity program management, education and research.

This resource is split into five pages, for the purposes of improving reading experience; however, all five sections are intended to paint a holistic picture for social change. (If you prefer, read this resource as one PDF). 

Explore the themes via this detailed table of contents:

1. Introduction and intersectionality: how gender and racial inequalities are interconnected and compound other forms of social exclusion, such as sexuality, disability, class, age and so on.
   1. Indigenous scholars: racial injustice; and senior leadership
   2. Meaningful career pathways for Indigenous students and faculty
      • Text Box 1: How to use intersectionality to improve equity and diversity strategy
      • Text Box 2: How to promote careers of Indigenous scholars
2. Equity: barriers, issues and solutions to structural disadvantage.
   1. Gender equity in service: “fix the women” approaches; academic service and emotion work; publication; Aboriginal scholarship; public outreach; human rights work by people of colour
      • Text Box 3: How to implement gender equity in hiring and promotion
      • Text Box 4: How to reward public service and activism
   2. “Motherhood penalty”: pay; Indigenous mothers
      • Text Box 5: How to remove the motherhood bias
   3. Fatherhood bonus: childcare and parental leave
      • Text Box 6: How to promote equitable parental leave and part-time work options
   4. Work/life balance: long working hours; impact on family time
      • Text Box 7: Actively promote work/life balance
3. Diversity: protections and promotion of differences to achieve equal opportunity
   1. Workplace culture and bullying
      • Text Box 8: How to create a culture that welcomes diversity
   2. Exploitation of precariously employed workers
      • Text Box 9: Eliminate the exploitation of precarious workers
   3. Support for early-to-mid-career scholars
      • Text Box 10: Retaining early-to-mid career workers
4. Inclusion: actively seeking out, valuing and respecting differences
   1. LGBTQIA scholars: lack of inclusion; engagement
      • Text Box 11: How to evaluate & improve policies for LGBTQIA+ staff
   2. Transgender staff and students: gender pronouns; intersectionality; policies
      • Text Box 12: How to support transition
5. Access: creating, measuring and redesigning opportunities to enhance participation by underrepresented groups
   1. Accommodations for student accessibility
   2. Discrimination of disabled faculty
   3. Curriculum, skills and support
   4. Disabled women of colour
      • Text Box 13: How to begin addressing accessibility
6. Notes
   • Learn more

This project has taken me two years from start to finish, with a lot of heart ache and bumps along the way. This is one of the main reasons I’ve blogged less over the past year or so, as bringing this together took most of my time and energy, when I had these to give. Please share and cite ethically: a lot of people plagiarise my work, and while I publish my knowledge free, please don’t exploit my labour.

Given the high profile of the Women’s March against the Trump Administration on January 21, 2017, the March for Science (MfS) seeks to rally against the science policy changes, funding cuts, gag orders, and the administrative overhaul of science organisations by the Trump Government.

The March for Science is scheduled to occur globally on April 22 in over 400 cities. The aims and functions of the march have been drastically altered in the first two months of its existence, especially as the organisers began to receive critique from the scientific community regarding diversity issues. By setting up the march as being “not political” and by reproducing various problems of gender inequality, racism and other forms of exclusion, the march organisers have inadvertently created an anti-diversity discourse, which has been subsequently adopted by a vocal majority of the MfS supporter base.

In sociology, the concept of discourse describes how language comes to convey and justify dominant ways of thinking, talking, and behaving. Discourses are built around the social identities, values, interests, and power of dominant groups. This means that the stories we tell about “why things are the way they are,” reinforce the status quo, and thus justify the reasoning, policies, and practices of groups that already have institutional control.

The idea that White men are the taken-for-granted norm of what it means to be a scientist is learned early in school, and then reinforced throughout education, career progression, prestigious prizes, and the publication and funding systems. Institutional mechanisms in science serve to reinforce a discourse that naturalises White men’s dominance in science.

My article on DiverseScholar shows how the MfS organisers have come to reproduce the existing discourse of science, by normalising the interests of scientists who are White and from majority backgrounds. I present an analysis on public reactions to the third (of four) MfS diversity statements that reflect this position.

I analysed 354 comments and over 3,300 reactions to the MfS diversity statement. There were two broad response types to the March for Science diversity statement on the public Facebook page: comments were either discouraging or encouraging of the MfS diversity statement.

The discouraging comments fell into four sub-groups: people who felt that diversity was either politicising or dividing the practice of science; and those who felt that diversity was depreciating or distracting from the goals of the march more specifically.

The encouraging comments included individuals who felt uniquely positioned to be informing others about why diversity is important to the march, and supporters who thought that diversity is enhancing science more generally.

Discourses reflect the history, culture, identity, and politics of those in power. To make the MfS truly inclusive, the organisers need to think more strategically about how to manage misconceptions about science. They will also need to be more proactive in promoting a new discourse about the march.

Read more on DiverseScholar. Cross-posted on my website.

Canberra’s roots

The Ngunawal people have been in Acton for at least 25,000 years. The National Arboretum was built relatively recently, near an area sacred to the Ngunawal people. The land is diverse in plant-life as well as being rich in traditional Aboriginal knowledge of sustainable practices.

The Arboretum is home to 44,000 trees from over 100 countries, organised into 94 forests.  Three of the forests are over a century old, with the first of these planted in 1917.

While the American architect who designed Canberra, Walter Burley Griffin, had initially intended to establish an arboretum, the National Arboretum was formally built 90 years later, after the 2003 bushfires that devastated the area.

On the day I visited, the Arboretum was well attended by families and groups of friends who were charmed by the beautiful setting.

The Village Centre beckons with its science fiction-themed dome exterior. It was opened in 2013, and now displays information about the forests as well as community planning and sustainability.

Community science

The Village Centre has a focus on community science, visually displaying the data collection efforts of volunteer groups such as the Friends of the National Arboretum, the Canberra Ornithologists Group and FrogWatch. These “citizen scientists” collect tree and other biological measurements. For example, frog observation is central to better understanding the ecology of the surrounding area.

The Arboretum is used as a site to study climate change. In collaboration with the Australian National University, three forests are being used to simulate drought conditions to see how trees cope with environmental stress. Some species such as the spotted gum relies on a complex root system to sustain its water intake and others such as the red ironbark stops growing during times of drought.

Another community science element highlighted at the Arboretum is the Avenues of Honour around Australia, which dedicate the planting of trees in remembrance of fallen soldiers. The Arboretum tells us that the country town of Ballarat in outer western Melbourne was the first to establish this tradition. Similarly the nearby town of Bacchus Marsh, a 20 minute drive from where I grew up, planted close to 300 trees in 1918, four years after the first group of local soldiers went to war.

There is bountiful sociological value at the Arboretum. Displays about community and identity demonstrate how local and national practices are linked to trees and sustainability. A sign tells us:

Trees are part of national identity. They witness our triumphs and our tragedies.

Australiana is evoked via the corten steel sculpture that screams ‘Wide Brown Land‘ atop a hill. Australians would recognise this famous line from Dorothea Mackellar’s quaint and beloved poem ‘My Country.’ The artwork, made in 2010, uses cursive handwriting in an ode to Mackellar, and it can be read clearly from afar, evoking nostalgia and patriotism.

Despite the splendour of the artwork, such a grand-scale celebration of Australia’s Anglo-Celtic roots stand in stark contrast to the Arboretum’s engagement with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander cultures. While the Arboretum has an Indigenous program of guided activities, this educational resource seems to be a pre-booked service.

It might be curious that there is not more Indigenous science and art on display beyond the entrance, nor did there seem to be Indigenous professionals on site. Unfortunately, this is one way in which the Arboretum is sorely lacking, as is the case with other science programs. Indigenous knowledge has much to teach us about science, including ecology and sustainability. This is one consistent pattern I see when I visit public sites dedicated to science: the absence of Indigenous contribution and leadership.

From China to Japan to Oz

The National Bonsai and Penjing Collection is a delight, with around 80 varieties of overseas and local miniature trees designed to inspire cross-cultural connections between Australia, China and Japan.

Aged 60 years or less, the Bonsai trees in the Arboretum are only one tenth the age of their counterparts in their native homeland. From black Japanese pines to mini moss gardens, there is much to absorb.

While many Westerners outside of Japan may have heard of bonsai, penjing is the Chinese tradition of miniature landscaping and actually predate the art of bonsai. Penjing also feature rocks, figures and multiple species in the one setting. Take the Reed Pipe Rock (left below, click to enlarge). It is made from soft stones; perfect for sculpting a space for the trees which are later added. Look closely at the Chinese elm (right below). Can you see the little red fruit in the trees, above the coy red deer that watches the frolicking birds?

The Dwarf Alberta Spruce (below) are a bonsai variety. The white parts of the trunk are painted to represent dead wood; ‘jin‘ is the name for the branches and ‘shari‘ is the trunk.

A standout was the Queensland Small-Leaf Fig, styled from a native tree planted in 1987.

One of my favourite pieces is the 165 million year old petrified tree stump fossil (below) donated by the National Dinosaur Museum. It dates back to the Jurassic era, preserved in sediment that replaced the plant material with silica, opal and other organic materials.

The Bonsai and Penjing Collection easily drew the largest crowds. People talked in low, animated tones pointing out beautiful foliage, while others spoke more loudly, especially Anglo-Australian men, showing off their botanical knowledge.

Click to view slideshow.

Family flight

Families with young children tended to rush through the outside garden that is dense with fascinating information about local conservation techniques, such as how to plant the most resilient native species in sustainable local gardens. Instead, many opted to play on the impressive Pod Playground. I must admit I wanted very badly to climb up that slide but norms of adulthood kept me firmly in place!

Others flew colourful kites in the luscious outdoors amphitheatre. A glorious array of gliding paper was on show. One family flew a giant Rainbow Flag (a symbol of lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, and intersex people). A Chinese-speaking family commandeered a giant dragon. Others opted for modest handmade affairs, while there were also a couple of impressive motorised kites. In fact, there were more adults gleefully flying kites than their children, who ran around squealing and rolling down the hill in sublime joy.

Whatever one chooses to indulge at the Arboretum – whether it’s bonsai admiration, climbing pods, or a sociological frolic through information displays – a very good day is guaranteed for one and all.

Beliefs: Case study of gender inequality and the environmental movement

In social science, the concept of belief describes a statement that people think is either true or false. Beliefs are deep rooted because they evolve from early socialisation. They are maintained tacitly through everyday interactions with our primary social networks like family, religious communities, and through close friendships with people from the same socio-economic backgrounds. Beliefs are hard (though not impossible) to change because there is a strong motivation to protect what we believe. Beliefs are strongly tied to personal identities, culture and lifestyle. Beliefs are harder to change in a short frame time because they’re interconnected to structures of power and inequality. Chipping away at one belief means re-evaluating all beliefs we hold about what is “true,” “natural,” and “normal.”

Beliefs are hard to justify objectively because they represent the social scaffolding of all we take for granted.

In this meaning, beliefs represent the status quo of what we’re willing to accept. If we ask people: Why do you think your belief is correct? They’ll often answer on “gut instinct” or they’ll defer to common sense. This is true because everyone knows it! For many people, belief is either an act of faith that does not need scientific proof, or otherwise, people find evidence for their beliefs everywhere they look, even though this does not include looking to empirical data. In many cases, however, people will also refer to authoritative texts to back up their beliefs, like religious teachings or news reports.

The key to understanding why beliefs are hard to shift comes down to one question: Who benefits from this belief? For example, when we ask: Are men and women fundamentally different? Someone who benefits from patriarchy and doesn’t want to lose their gender privilege will say: “Of course, men and women are different, look around you! Women act this way and they’re from Venus; men act that way and they’re from Mars.” A social scientist will bring up examples from other cultures where gender is organised differently. Still, the other person will see these examples as exceptions to their rules about gender.

Gender differences are used to justify inequality: women are more caring, so they’re better at raising babies; men are more rational, so they make better leaders. To think otherwise means restructuring our labour arrangements at home and work; it means rethinking social policy about how we remunerate jobs; it means changing the balance of power in the law, in education, in the media and so on.

When people don’t believe scientists on climate change or genetically modified (GM) foods or vaccinations, it comes down to their assessment of: What does this mean for me? What life changes are required of me? How does this scientific knowledge undermine my place in the world? In other words: how does this science support or threaten my values?

Values: Case study of the adoption and resistance of GM foods

Values are linked to one’s sense of morality. Where belief is something maintained at the individual level through agents of socialisation, values are more easily distinguished through their connection to broader social interests. Values relate to the standards of what individuals perceive to be “good” or “bad” in direct reaction to what our society deems to be “good” or “bad.” Values are shaped by cultural institutions like education and religion. Societies depend on shared values to maintain social order, which is why many societal values are often enshrined in law. Traditional societies appeal to values of authority like religion or authoritarian leadership. Christian capitalist societies appeal to values of individualism and economic rationalism. Social democratic societies are more secular and informed by humanist values. All of these underlying value systems impact on public values of science.

Still, values are contested, depending on whose social interest is being served.

Take for example GM foods. In Sweden, public consultation and scientific input is framed around best interests for public good. (Not without controversy.) Some Scandinavian laws will allow GM food to be grown in controlled areas because it benefits their national economy, but they won’t support imported GM foods. In countries like Peru, GM foods have been banned for 10 years because they mostly come from imported products. These products are deemed to be unsafe. At the same time, GM foods conflict with class struggles of the highly political Indigenous farming movement. Peru has a long history of mistreating Indigenous populations, but the national identity is firmly locked to agrarian innovation that stretches back to the Incan empire. Peru has also joined other Latin nations to wind down trade with the USA and increase trade with Asian nations. Resistance to GM foods serves a dual economic and political purpose of resisting cultural imperialism and supporting Indigenous farming movements. (Though Indigenous environmental protests are ignored in other areas, such mineral resources and specifically big oil.) The key here is the political economy of Peru (and Latin America more broadly) is informed by socialist values that resist capitalist interests. GM foods have publicly been positioned as part of this capitalist incursion.

In the USA the GMO public debate has been framed around commercial interests. This stems back to early industrial era and the plant patent act of 1930. The commercialisation of American agriculture goes back to the early 19th century, where many farming communities were self-sufficient. By the early 1920s differentiated crop varieties were already established. Trade associations arose as mass production started. With more money at stake, legislation steps in to formalise the production of seeds. Historical evidence shows that the law struggled to weigh up the commercial lobbying of large agricultural organisations (specifically the American Association of Nurserymen) versus the rights of small farmers. At this time, when economic rationalism was beginning to set precedents, commercial interests won out over collective interests. This isn’t simply a case of greed of corporations, this is about the political economy of early American society. American values were firmly tied to Protestant beliefs (sociologist Max Weber has detailed this thoroughly). In early American capitalism, it was God’s will that people should work hard and make as much money as possible, to ensure their place in heaven. The 1930 plant patent was fought heavily on moral and social grounds.

Today, these tensions around values and commercial interests often feature in GM food debates (see for example various highly emotive comments to our Science on Google+ Community). Invariably, people bring up Monsanto. I’m not a fan of Monsanto. In fact, I see them operating as a neo-colonialist corporate machine. Then again, I can accept that the practices of one entity do not nullify the potential benefits of GM foods altogether. I want to learn even more about the science and debate the findings robustly. Anti-science members of the public, however, cannot accept that scientific methodology of GM foods can be separated from commercial interests to help feed underprivileged people.

This is glaringly obvious when we have scientists discuss the not-for-profit scientific collective that have developed Golden Rice, a type of rice that is engineered to be rich in Vitamin A. In our Science community, we have people dismissing the potential benefits of Golden Rice, because they don’t believe that the science can remain commercially impartial. These people see only conspiracy and greed behind the motivations of scientists. Otherwise people argue that this technology is unsafe, though it’s been tested (though not without controversy over informed consent). People also get very angry that Golden Rice doesn’t address the social causes of poverty, such as corruption and social inequality. Golden Rice doesn’t claim to solve world poverty; it aims to address Vitamin A deficiency in developing regions.

People think that science should solve all the world’s problems, when in reality we tackle one aspect of one specific problem at a time.

Debates about GM foods are, in fact, a cultural battle over value systems. Are capitalist nations like America still deeply invested in individualistic values or can we move towards collective action? Scientists make the case that some GM food technologies represent a safe, relatively inexpensive way to address hunger. In order to accept this argument, the public needs to be able to trust that the science isn’t governed by commercial entities. How you see this depends on your values: are GM foods “good” or “bad”? A vocal section of the public is distrustful of science on GM foods. They think GM foods are bad. As I’ve shown this is both the outcome of history, culture and social changes. Different countries have different positions which influence whether people largely celebrate, decry or feel anxious about GM science.

In these cases, the science is used to draw very different conclusions. GMOs are either for or against the national interest. GMOs either support social change or they impede progress. Attitudes towards the science depends on the cultural and political interests of different social groups. What’s “good” or “bad” about GM foods depends on whose point of view best aligns with societal values.

Attitudes: Case study on perceptions of risk and trust

Attitudes are relatively stable system of ideas that allow people to evaluate our experiences. This includes objects, situations, facts, social issues and other social processes. While attitudes are relatively stable, they are more superficial than beliefs and less normative than values. Attitudes can be changed more easily than beliefs. Sometimes people will say one thing, especially if it’s socially desirable to do so, but in private they may not adhere to that attitude. Someone can say they support equality but they may not practice it at home. Often times, however, people are not always aware that their attitudes are contradictory.

In contrast to values, which are culturally defined, attitudes are interpersonal. We are constantly interpreting other people in relation to the situation we find ourselves in. Language, motives, emotions and relationships can change attitudes over time. Social context also matters: cultural beliefs and values can influence whether or not attitudes change.

Attitudes about science are shaped by many societal processes, such as education, class, ethnicity and so on. Yet the social science literature has overwhelmingly shown that attitudes towards science are connected to:

1. Whether or not people are willing to accept the risks associated with a particular scientific issue; and
2. Whether or not people trust scientists in general.

Trust is a multi-dimensional concept; that is to say, it is made up of many different characteristics and these change with respect to a given social group in a particular time and place. Psychologist Roderick Kramer provides an extensive review of the empirical research on trust (he covers studies from the 1950s to 1999). At the interpersonal level, we develop trust in another person based on a belief that they have an interest to live up to our expectations. They care about us, they need us, they have a legal or moral obligation to help us. Among individuals, trust is about behaviour and reciprocity: I’ve proven you can trust me because I have not let you down and because we both understand that our trust goes both ways.

Some individuals can be generally considered to be “high trusters” and others “low trusters,” depending on their personal biographies; their experiences with institutions of authority; and other socio-cultural factors. People who are generally predisposed to the idea of trust are more likely to be open to collective social action. The reverse is true of people with low trust.

While Kramer doesn’t make this connection, low trust and commitment to social action impact on the public’s trust in science. If I hold a strong belief about the world and science contradicts my view, I will need a high degree of trust in order to be open to the information. If I take on board this scientific view, I will be forced to act on it. This means changing the social order that benefits me currently. That’s a big investment. If I have high trust in another oppositional social institution like religion or my community leader who is supporting my current belief system, why should I trust science?

At the societal level, trust doesn’t always work in relation to direct interpersonal engagement. Kramer shows how some people in certain circumstances will trust authority figures based on their history. That is: I trust this organisation because they have a strong reputation and other big players endorse them. Others will trust due to someone’s category of authority (science, politics), their role (medical practitioner, priest), or a “system of expertise” (bureaucratic management).

People who trust an authority figure or an organisation’s motives are more likely to accept outcomes, even if they are negative. Trust will matter more when people have a lot to lose, such as when an outcome is unfavourable. For example, when science will lead to social change or some new technological impact that I don’t want because it threatens my beliefs, livelihood, culture, identity or lifestyle – this requires high trust.

Research shows that public trust in social institutions has long been in decline. In America, civic trust was high just after WWII due to the nature of the war, its impact on the economy and other social changes. Public trust declined in the late-1960s due to the Vietnam war and other conservative economic and political changes. Public trust is generally at half the rate it was in the mid-1960s for federal government, universities, medial institutions and the media. Specific incidents become exemplars for more distrust, such as political scandals. Progress in technology is also related to higher distrust. People who live in relatively affluent, technologically advanced societies are more likely to distrust science. Up until the mid-1990s, the media was people’s main information source, but it was also the most distrusted social institution. The reverse was true of scientists: university researchers were trusted as experts, but people were less likely to be listening to them because they didn’t have much exposure to scientists.

In some cases, we might think that distrust in science is about lack of knowledge. Being familiar with a person or institution can help to engender trust, but not always. Again, it comes down to beliefs, values and attitudes.

People who are highly knowledgeable on a particular area such as politics are more likely to spend a lot of time taking in and responding to world views that contradict their own. These people have an information bias that they do not readily recognise. They will see themselves as rational and impartial. They see that they are sceptics ready to weigh up evidence as it comes to hand. In fact, they spend more emotional energy arguing against conflicting information because these clash with their personal world views. They argue passionately because their attitudes align with their beliefs and attitudes.

Conversely, people who know little about a topic are more likely to accept new information to be true or unbiased, but they show a weak commitment to defending this new information. Paradoxically, if people don’t feel personally invested on a social issue, they will not act. This suggests that more information or education on a topic alone is not enough to improve how the public engages in science or democratic processes.

Bluntly put, more public discussion on science alone is unlikely to convince people to productively engage in scientific discussions.

Even amongst scientists, trust in science and risk perception is affected by sociological processes. A 1999 study of the members from the British Toxicological Society finds that women were more likely to have higher risk perceptions for various social issues in comparison to men. This ranged from smoking, to car accidents, AIDS, and climate change. Looking deeper, it was a specific sub-set of White men who were more likely to perceive a low risk for these social issues; those with postgraduate qualifications who earned more than $50K a year and who were conservative in their politics. They were more likely to believe that future generations can take care of the risks from today’s technologies; they believed government and industry can be trusted to manage technological risks; they were less likely to support gender equality; and they were less likely to believe that climate change was human-made (bearing in mind climate change science has since developed further). These men had a higher trust in authority figures and they were less likely to support equality and social change. Why? Because being in a position of relative social power, they had the most to lose from social change on environmental, gender and political issues.

So if beliefs and values are so seemingly immutable, and attitudes mask underlying motives that people are unaware about, how do we increase trust in science to improve the tangible outcomes of public outreach?

Moving Forward: A case for public science

Beliefs are tied to personal identities and social status. People defend beliefs on the grounds that what they believe is true, obvious or simply “a given fact” because they have been socialised to do so since birth. Beliefs are tied to social belonging and social benefits, so there’s a lot at stake in defending them. Beliefs about equality align with the environmentalist movement because addressing climate change requires full civic participation. The beliefs of environmentalists also overlap with feminists as both groups want to see change in the social order. Beliefs are shaped by social institutions, but they can also be restricted by material constraints.

Values are normative because they are linked to powerful social institutions. Some scientific innovations are perceived to be inherently “good” or “bad” depending on how vested social interests are understood. In some contexts, GMOs are seen as bad because people think scientists can’t be trusted to separate methods from commercial interests.

Attitudes are interpersonal. They depend upon social exchange with particular people, but attitudes also reflect hidden or contradictory ideas that people hold. Public trust in institutions has been eroded since the late 1960s in different ways in different societies. People don’t trust scientists because for much of our history, our knowledge has been kept within academia. Most of the time when science reached the public, it was been reported on by the media, which is itself a mistrusted, though widely consumed, source of information.

Changing attitudes on “hot button” scientific issues is hard because people who seek out these debates already have pre-existing beliefs. Sometimes people think they’re being sceptical of a corrupt or unjust system when they take an anti-science perspective, as with the case of GM foods.

Most people view themselves favourably when it comes to social, economic, political and scientific issues. They think they’re impartial and rational, when really they’re just defending their place in the world.

Sometimes people already have a high distrust of institutions like medicine and science because they’ve been marginalised or abused by systems of power. The history of medicine has many horror stories, especially in connection to unethical treatment of Indigenous groups, minorities, women and the mentally ill. Unfortunately, science cannot simply hatch these up to isolated incidents of yore, as these cases directly impact on present-day public mistrust of scientists.

Rather than dismissing the past, it is more useful for scientists to understand how historical and cultural relations affect how people perceive the scientific community.

Better public education on science is only part of the answer. As we see, even amongst highly educated scientists, those with greater social power will happily acquiesce to higher authority. They are willing to take more risks with science and technology, but they are less supportive of equality and progressive social change where this threatens their beliefs and social position.

Supporting the public’s reflexive critical thinking is more important than simply pumping out science information.

Reflexive critical thinking

Sociologist Ulrich Beck argues that a general state of reflexivity might be part of the reason why people are so worried about technological and social risks in ways that are not especially productive.

Reflexive critical thinking is a methodology for knowing how to question information, as well as identifying and controlling for our personal biases.

How sociology can help

As Susanne Bleiberg Seperson and others have argued, sociology has a public image problem. The public doesn’t know what we do, let alone how we do it. We write in jargon. We are seen as too theoretical and not very practical.

The social sciences are well-poised to improve the public’s trust in science because our work is focused on the influence of social institutions on behaviour. We are not above critique on these grounds. My blog has regularly shown how even as we expand social knowledge of culture and inequality, Western social sciences can misappropriate minority cultures or exclude Indigenous voices.

Many of the anti-science critics are espousing cultural arguments without knowing it. This is where public sociology can really shine, by showing how inequality, social values and power affect how people engage with science.

Connect With Me

Follow me @OtherSociology or click below!

By Zuleyka Zevallos, PhD

Sociology and anthropology have long used the experiences of “third sex” cultures, such as the Native American Two Spirit people, to teach students about the social construction of sex and gender. In many cultures around the world, people are allowed to live their lives beyond conventional binaries; they need not adhere to the biological sex they were born into. These people are usually revered and there are special circumstances where individuals are allowed to shift their gender position. These groups, including the Two Spirit people, are used as examples in the sociology of Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Queer and Intersexual (LGBTQI) issues. Recent scholarship, however, has questioned this practice, demonstrating that social scientists are applying Western concepts to misappropriate the Two Spirit phenomena.

My post gives a broad overview of the social science concepts of gender and sexuality. I then discuss the spirituality, gender and sexuality of Two Spirit people as well as the history and culture that informs their social position. Let me put my analysis in context: I am not Native American nor am I a transgender person. I identify as a *cis-woman of colour (*that is, my biological and gender identity align). As a sociologist who has researched, published on and taught gender and sexuality courses, I seek to explore how Western social scientists, queer theorists and other social activists have misappropriated the Two Spirit experience to highlight social causes.

I propose that social science needs to move forward from our dominant understandings of the Two Spirit experience. My aim is to start a conversation about how we might expand sociological understandings of gender and sexuality using this case study. How do we best communicate the social construction of gender and sexuality to students and to the public? I argue academics and activists need to be mindful that, even with the best of intentions, misappropriation of cultural traditions of minority groups is dangerous. This perpetuates historical practices that have silenced Indigenous experiences. There are better ways to appreciate and form solidarity with Other cultures. This begins by listening to the way minorities speak about their own experiences, rather than projecting our seemingly-progressive perspective onto Others.

I begin by giving a background on what inspired this post as an example of public sociology. Public sociology describes how we produce sociology for mass audiences outside academia. My focus here is on how we use sociology in the classroom and in social media. It is vital to the longevity of our discipline that sociologists explain our key concepts to general audiences. At the same time, I see it important that we publicly own up to, and invite a public discussion about, the changing dynamics of power which influence social theories. We also need to take responsibility for the way we teach and publicly discuss social science ideas. This means being more critical about the ways in which social science ideas are produced and disseminated, especially via social media.

Public Sociology of Gender & Sexuality

My post today is expanded from my post on Science on Google+. The initial post was inspired by Sean Kinney. Sean is an American teacher with a keen interest on science and alternative modes of thinking. Sean posted a meme on Google+ (right) about the Two Spirit Native Americans. The meme depicts an unnamed elderly Native American person, with text advocating same-sex marriage. The text reads as if from the perspective of this Indigenous person, saying that “gay marriage” has been sanctioned in “our soil […] for hundreds of years […] Your ‘homosexual’ was our Two Spirit people… and we considered them sacred.”

Sean reached out to Science on Google+, a community run by over 20 scientists with PhDs in various disciplines. The community exists to provide a platform to share quality science with the public, to encourage interaction with qualified experts, and foster interdisciplinary collaboration. I am a Moderator for the Social stream, along with psychologist Chris Robinson (who also created and leads the community). Sean saw this meme and posted it, finding it interesting. Looking for a reference, he linked to Wikipedia. The post was then brought to my attention. Was this an acceptable example social science interests?

On the surface, the general topics being conveyed were social science: minority cultures and gay rights. The source, Wikipedia, is not an acceptable scholarly reference for our major Community categories. While teachers such as Sean may prefer not to link to Wikipedia, this is an accessible reference. The information is not locked behind a paywall that the public can’t get to (unlike much of social science journal articles and books). The material is relatively easy to understand because it is written in jargon-free language. The problem with Wikipedia is that it is edited by volunteers and the information is not always correct. In this case, the information is incomplete, as the Two Spirit people entry currently does not include any of the scholarly disputes I discuss below (something I aim to fix over the coming week).

As a sociologist who specialises on studying minority cultures and Otherness, it would have been easy to ignore this meme as well-meaning albeit sociologically incorrect attempt at public education. I could see Sean meant to spark a dialogue, which I wanted to encourage, but I could also identify many problems with the image and the message. First, the person in this image is represented as a Two Spirit person given how the text is written in first person, but they are not specifically named. It is vague whether the person in the photograph identifies as Two Spirit. Second, while the text alludes that  it presents a direct impassioned plea for gay rights, I have the distinct impression that this was not likely written by a Two Spirit person (for reasons explained below).

I suspect that this image may not have been produced by a Native American activist, scholar or leader who can speak from an informed community perspective. This comes across to me as one of the many memes I’ve seen all over social media, created and reposted by passionate and well-meaning activists who aim to give voice to Indigenous people. These are people who are eager to make connections between the historical struggles of minorities to current social movements, such as LGBTQI consciousness.

Here’s why I didn’t simply dismiss this meme. First, the dedicated team behind Science on Google+ spends a lot of time thinking and discussing how to improve public engagement with science. We are trying to elevate quality posts as well as increase informed public debate. For this reason, I wanted to engage with a critical reading of this image.

Second, in researching the origins of this image, I have since seen this image posted on other sociology sites, with poor discussion.

Problems of Teaching via Social Media

Sociological Cinema posted the above image on their Facebook page in September 2012. To their credit, the team notes that the image depicts “Pretty Shield (1866-1944), who was a medicine woman of the Crow Nation,” and they add that “To the best of our understanding, these are not her words.”

To date, this post by Sociological Cinema has been “Liked” by over 300 people and shared almost 250 times. In the comments, presumably mostly by sociology students, people praise the image uncritically. One person writes that it doesn’t matter whom the quote was written by:

this isn’t the first time someone gives a voice to someone else. Happens all the time in art , literature , movies , etc. To each, his own. [sic]

This is a problematic position to see on a sociology site. It is not okay to appropriate minority cultures even if it’s in the name of social justice. The sociological imagination suffers as a result. This isn’t a criticism specific of SocyCinema; scroll through the Tumblr Two Spirit hashtag and you will see this image reblogged enthusiastically, through different networks without critical engagement.

I note the biographical book about Pretty Shield uses the same image on its cover, but the blurb does not identify her as Two Spirit. In an interview, Pretty Shield speaks of Native American women who fought alongside men in battle, but she never uses the term “Two Spirit,” nor does she identify herself as Two Spirit. I cannot presently identify the origins of the meme, but it may have been created as a postcard that can be bought online.

Sociological and social science public outreach needs improvement; this includes the images, articles and other resources that we make available to sociology students, as well as the communication of social science ideas and research to the general public. As such, the image on Google+ prompted me to initiate a discussion about the Two Spirit people. Who are they? What do do their experiences tell us about gender and sexuality? How can we improve the way we analyse these experiences? The following case study aims to show how can we improve the visual communication of social science ideals to new audiences, without “Othering” minority cultures.

Definition of gender and sexuality

In sociology and anthropology, gender and sexuality are very different to every day understandings. Briefly, we make a distinction between sex and gender. Sex refers to biological or bodily traits that distinguish “men” and “women.” Gender describes the social experiences, norms, values and subjective position that people use to describe their experience of “masculinity” and “femininity.”

In the common sense understanding, the appearance of our bodies, outward genitalia and chromosomes determine whether we are seen as either “men” or “women.” A wealth of empirical evidence from the social sciences shows that biological definitions of gender are not only rigid, but they are the outcome of cultural, historical and legal institutions that vary across time and place. The interactive map (below) shows some of the cultures that do not adhere to two simplistic models of gender.

In the social sciences, we use the concept of gender to describe how people’s social experiences, personal interactions, and social institutions shape our understandings of femininity and masculinity. We talk about gender as a social construction, because when we look across history and in other cultures, we see that gender is organised in different ways, and these do not always match up with narrow ideas of genitals and outward physical cues.

Similarly, we do not study sexuality in an essentialist or in a rigid biological understanding, but rather we see sexuality on a continuum of cultural, historical and social experiences. Sexuality is a social construction because its meaning takes shape through a complex interplay of cultural experiences, social sanctions, and personal positions on our identities.

Take for example the concept of homosexuality.

Social Construction of Homosexuality

The word “homosexual” did not exist until the 19th Century. Prior to this, while men may have been having sex with men and likewise women with women, there was no word to describe these practices. Behaviours did not automatically become viewed through a prism of gender and sexuality. A man sitting on another man’s lap did not necessarily lead to the presumption that they were engaged in a sexually relationship. Physical expressions take different meanings from their cultural and historical settings.

During the Victorian era, the Queen ordered her physicians to investigate the sexual practices of the male aristocracy. The actions of this inquiry eventually led to the medical definition of homosexuality as a psychological pathology. It was only then, with the invention of homosexuality, that the concept of heterosexuality evolved formally. Before the creation of the category homosexual, the term heterosexuality did not exist. This was the first time in Western European history that heterosexuality became medically defined as a “natural” and “biological” phenomena. From here, we start to see behaviours and identities being reshaped as homosexuality is defined in opposition to heterosexuality.

The Law

It became enshrined in law that being homosexual was illegal while heterosexuality was not criminalised. This legacy reflects not some inherent biological discovery, but rather the interests of the elite; specifically the values of Queen Victoria. As the Queen had a problem with men having sex with men, this was outlawed. The Queen was not willing to believe that women would also have sex with women, so female homosexuality was not punished in the same way. Through the spread of colonialism Queen Victoria’s legacy continues to shape the way Western societies think of sexuality in the present day.

Many nations around the world have laws that prohibit male to male sex but there may not be any laws criminalising female to female sex. Homosexuality was outlawed in Australia until the mid-1970s and the ban was not formally lifted in the state of Tasmania until the late 1990s, following a drawn-out appeal.

If you look at the age of consent laws around the world, many nations have a higher age at which heterosexual-sex is allowed compared to homosexual sex. In Australia, three states make male-to-male sex permissible two years after male-to-female sex (16 years for heterosexuals, 18 years for homosexual men). Four states have no laws dictating female-to-female sex, even though there are age of consent laws for male-to-female and male-to-male sex. Again, this reflects the Victorian edict that homosexual men present a larger threat to elite interests than lesbian women (although the law denies the human rights of all LGBTQI people when it comes to marriage, child rearing and so on). Historically the upper classes perceive lesbian women as dangerous when they are overtly sexual and openly enjoying their bodies.

Given that social institutions such as the law, medicine and other agents of socialisation shape how we define sexuality, social scientists acknowledge that there are several gender experiences beyond simply being male or female. For example, we study intersex and queer identities around the world, as well as the “third sex” phenomena, which is where the Native American concept of the Two Spirit people are usually discussed.

Two Spirit People

Native American notions of identity are communal. They depend upon community context, status and history. In many ways, gender is more fluid in Native American cultures in comparison to the rigid binary concepts of male-female that we know in Western societies. In the PBS documentary “Two Spirits” (which you can watch further below), Navajo scholar Wesley Thomas explains that Navajo culture has four genders:

1. Given that Navajo culture is matrilineal , the first gender is feminine woman (asdzaan). They are born biologically female and function socially as women;
2. Masculine man (hastiin), are born biologically male and adopt the role of men;
3. Feminine man (nádleehí) are born biologically male and function socially as women; and
4. Masculine woman (dilbaa) are born biologically female but function as men.

Canadian Cree-speaking blogger âpihtawikosisân attempts to translate Two Spirit terms from her culture, noting that English translations are not straightforward. She writes:

• napêw iskwêwisêhot (nu-PAYO ihs-gwayo-WIH-say-hoht), a man who dresses as a woman
• iskwêw ka napêwayat (ihs-GWAYO ga nu-PAYO-wuh-yut), a woman dressed as a man
• ayahkwêw (U-yuh-gwayo), a man dressed/living/accepted as a woman. I can see the ‘woman’ part of this word, but I am confused about the possible meaning of the rest of the word. Some have suggested this word can actually be used as a ‘third’ gender of sorts, applied to women and men.
• înahpîkasoht (ee-nuh-PEE-gu-soot), a woman dressed/living/accepted as a man. (also translated as someone who fights everyone to prove they are the toughest? Interesting!)
• iskwêhkân (IS-gwayh-gahn), literally ‘fake woman’, but without negative connotations.
• napêhkân (NU-payh-gahn) literally ‘fake man’, but without negative connotations.

As you can see from these examples which represent only two of a multiple cultural, historical and linguistic traditions, Native American cultures don’t construct gender as the singular possession of one gender or another. They don’t have the Western binaries of “men are this way; women are that way.” Instead, Native Americans of different cultures generally believe that all humans and animals possess both feminine and masculine qualities. This is part of their spirituality. At particular points of time, Native American tribes have a sanctioned practice that allows a person to swap genders. There are strict cultural codes that govern this transition. Not everyone is allowed to simply swap genders on a whim.

Gender, Sexuality and Spirituality

Two Spirit people often take on wives and husbands of the opposite gender, but not always; they may have diverse sexual experiences with both men and women. Nevertheless, the Two Spirits are not regarded as homosexual, bisexual or even transgender. Anthropologist Walter Williams notes that, throughout history, Two Spirit people were expected to conform to gender roles of their reassigned gender, with “feminine” Two Spirit people being matched with a “masculine” husband.

Simplifying this complex practice, Two Spirit people are seen as having a biological sex that does not match their spirit gender. They are usually regarded as having special sensory qualities; they see, hear, taste, smell and feel things others can’t. This is because the Two Spirit people are seen to be linked to their ancestral spirits. They interpret visions. They are peacemakers. They exist to honour all living things, past and present, as sacred. As you can start to see, their identity is not specifically about sexuality, nor really even about gender per se. Their role serves a social and community function; to fulfil cultural and religious duties.

More significantly – these people are historically chosen by their elders to fulfil these roles.

Williams notes that Christian missionaries outlawed these marriages in the 20th century, and they actively sought to remove this practice. During the cultural revolution of the 1960s, Native American activists re-embraced the Two Spirit legacy, and this movement grew in the 1990s with Native American lesbian and gay activists adopting the Two Spirit identity. These activists removed themselves from the colonialist term bernache, which had negative connotations from early French explorers, although in other Indigenous accounts this term has made a resurgence.

There is a rising scholarship by social scientists who are beginning to recognise that Western academics and LGBTQI movements have misappropriated the Two Spirit experience.

Rethinking Two Spirit People as a LGBTQI “Poster Child”

In sociology and anthropology, The Two Spirit people are studied as examples of transgender culture, which some Native Americans have been refuting. A small but growing number of scholars are beginning to re-examine how Native Americans culturally conceive of the Two Spirit people from an Indigenous historical perspective.  In 1998 anthropologist Carolyn Epple argued that Western scholarship feels a need to categorise Navajo culture in terms of existing frameworks (“gay” and “alternate gender”). Even when attempting to pay homage to Navajo terms, they re-appropriate these outside of their Western colonial meanings (“berdache” and “Two Spirit”). This speaks to the narrow frames of reference of the Western social sciences and social activist movements. We need to rethink our intentions and their consequences on minority cultures.

Many Native American scholars would doubtless support and stand in solidarity with LGBTQI movements, and some Indigenous LGBTQI activists adopt this term (for example, see the Bay Area American-Indian Two Spirits; the Native Youth Sexual Health Network makes available a Two Spirit resource). Nevertheless, the Two Spirit people are not the “poster children” of gay experiences. This is because the very meaning of “gay” (or homosexual) is culturally defined.

We see this within the LGBTQI movement itself; some people do not want to position themselves as being gay or lesbian, so they prefer to call themselves queer, which is a separate category of belonging and identity. Similarly, some Two Spirit people may not identify themselves as gay or lesbian or queer, since the original conception of this term was about embracing the spirituality of two genders.

In general, Western political activists tend to appropriate Indigenous cultures in memes with the best of intentions – to advocate for environmental or sexuality issues – but this is something that Native American scholars and activists want to stop.

“Other” cultures have their own understandings and histories. From a Western social activist perspective, we may see Indigenous issues as being the same as our minority politics, but they are not. As I’ve explained here, the cultural position of the Two Spirit people is not about gender and sexual politics per se, nor about their sexual preferences. Instead, the Two Spirit people hold a symbolic place of honour in their societies.

As âpihtawikosisân argues, Native Americans do not need privileged white academics and activists to teach them how to respect Two-Spirit people. Native American culture had already conceived of gender and sexual equality in their own ways, independent of Western liberal definitions of equality.

we already have those teachings. Reclaiming them and redefining them for the 21st century is a difficult, but beautiful undertaking. And perhaps the words we use in our own languages will be new, if they did not exist before. Perhaps they will be new because we have lost the words. Perhaps we never lost them. Perhaps they are merely waiting for us to use them again, properly. Hopefully soon I will look at the Cree words that have been suggested, and settler connotations will no longer colour my view of these words.

This is not work non-natives can or should do for us.

Colonialism dislodged the social status and rights of the Two Spirit people. In trying to find solidarity for social movements in the West, such as LGBTQI politics, academics and activists are unwittingly perpetuating colonialist practices. By misappropriating Native American culture, by not seeking to see their practices within their own cultural context, activists subsume the historical struggles of Native Americans.

Gay marriage is an important cause that social science advocates. Gay marriage may indeed help to restore the marriage rights of Indigenous people, but not at the expense of reducing the image of Two Spirit people into mouth-pieces for white-led causes. The LGBTQI community is not cohesive; people of colour are not treated equally. Intersections of race, ethnicity, sexuality, gender and class matter just as much in LGBTQI movements as they do in academia and in wider society.

Who has authority to speak on behalf of whom, where, when and how? The power of representation in images matters. All of these historical and social issues are effectively whitewashed by memes that appropriate Indigenous culture. White privilege is at work, even within minority social movements.

Rethinking the Sociology of Sex and Gender

Western sociologists happily teach that our role is to find the “general in the peculiar” and “the strange in the familiar.” The first phrase stems from Peter Berger Invitation to Sociology. The second is an extrapolation of Berger’s argument that, “The first wisdom of sociology is this: things are not what they seem.” I have taught these phrases to students in the past, as many sociology lecturers continue to do. It’s a great pedagogical device. At the same time, we need to reflect what this means in practice. In this case, when we teach about “third sex” cultures, we are effectively making the unfamiliar familiar. But at what cost?

Western scholarship transplants Western concepts of gender, transgender and sexuality onto Other cultures. Rather than viewing the Two Spirit phenomenon in its own cultural meaning, we make it “familiar” by reconstructing it as a political identity aligned with transgender and gay rights. This may be the case for some Two Spirit people, but not all. Even when Two Spirit people adopt transgender and gay labels, this position is the outcome of complex socio-cultural and historical struggles that affect Native Americans distinctly.

A study from October 2012 surveyed 6,456 transgender and gender nonconforming people. The survey finds that almost one quarter live under the poverty line (living on less than USD$10,000 annually). This is six times the rate for the general American population. Over 3.2% of the Native American sample were HIV positive and a further 8% did not know their HIV status. In comparison, 2.6% of non-Indigenous transgender and gender non-conformists from other ethnicities were were unaware of their HIV status. Furthermore, 56% of the Indigenous respondents had attempted suicide in comparison to 41% of non-Indigenous people.

Thirty-four percent of the Indigenous sample had been refused medical treatment due to discrimination and a further 65% had delayed seeking medical treatment due to fear of discrimination. Eighty-six percent of the Indigenous participants had faced physical harassment at school; they had more than twice the rate of unemployment compared to the national average (18% versus 7%); and they experienced six times the national rate of homelessness (40% versus 7%).

The aforementioned PBS documentary on Two Spirit people centres on the murder of Two Spirit Fred Martinez, who was the victim of homophobic and racist violence.

These figures on discrimination and violence suggest that Native Americans who identify as transgender and gender non-conformist experience multiple disadvantages that go beyond their sexual and gender identities. Holding up Native American Two Spirit people as LGBTQI poster children for gay marriage is problematic on several fronts. It privileges one cause (marriage) over institutional racism, sexual and racist violence, socio-economic disadvantage, health, and other ongoing effects of colonialism.

We need to respect the cultural traditions and struggles of other cultures, by becoming more aware of the concept of Otherness and how this frames our understanding of the world. The notion of the Other illustrates how dominant cultures define their own experience as the default human position. Dominant cultures perpetuate colonialist practices by using their own cultural values and traditions to make sense of, and judge, how we view Other cultures. In effect, academics and activists have Othered the Two Spirit people, by inscribing their own politics and interests onto this practice, and not approaching Native American culture from their own historical and social perspectives.

Moving Forward

As this post shows, the social sciences are no different than other fields of study. There are alternative ways of understanding social phenomena in response to new ideas and emerging data. Our knowledge and theories change or are adapted as we forge new synergies with other scholars. Just as legal and social definitions of sexuality and gender have changed over time, social science concepts and theories change and adapt in the face of new empirical evidence. With the case of the Two Spirit people, social science needs to reconfigure how we study these cultures as a monolith experience, and do away with a singular Western lens.

So how do we stop contributing to the Othering of Two Spirit and other diverse gender minority cultures? First, we need to rethink our own cultural position. Do we belong to the minority culture being discussed? No? Then rethink your choice to speak on behalf of that culture, or to use their image, culture or traditions to advance your own personal cause. You mean well, but without meaning to, you may be doing that community more harm than good. Second, we need to be open to life-long learning and critical engagement with other cultures. Do we know enough about a particular social experience to make comparisons to another society? You can only answer “yes” if you are an expert in a given field; otherwise, seek out alternative and reputable sources to broaden your understanding of human experience.

Even then, don’t succumb to making direct analogies. It is better to position yourself clearly: “I am a white/ sociologist of colour; from my training and the available evidence, this cultural practice can help us to think about gender in this way…” Then read your data critically, taking into consideration how your cultural position of privilege informs your methods and conclusions.

Don’t let the conversation stop once you publish that article/blog post/image/meme. Make yourself available for respectful discussion. Speak up when the conversation heads in the wrong direction. Remain self-reflexive; this is the duty of sociology, to always question our position and knowledge, to change and adapt and grow public awareness.

Public sociology has been a prevailing theme in journals, books, and conferences. In forthcoming posts I will discuss this further, but in the mean time, it’s high time that we start practising a critical and reflexive public sociology. Producing visual content to debate social issues is important. Let’s start thinking about how to do this better in our classrooms and for public consumption.

Learn More

Navajo construction of gender, PBS “Two Spirits”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZDx9JQUGB0

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