The Great Escape Chapter 15, Part 7 of 11

The Great Escape
Chapter 15, Part 7 of 11

"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, reveling in the difference between the commercial world and the academic world, that I asked Stephen why he offered me the job. He said that the Oxford man at my examination was his recruiter. He recommended it, but Professor Jakovs sent in my CV a month ago."

"I was surprised but realized 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 realized 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 Oakeshott 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 my career at Oakeshott 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 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 colors 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, a tweed skirt, and comfortable shoes.

Her half-moon glasses on a string around her neck made her look like a traditional English schoolmarm, 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 overview 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 favoritism by the male establishment, and the only answer was quotas and special help for girls."

"I had 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 women's abilities. 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 analyze the underlying cause of the sexual disparity."

"You know I'm good at that kind of analysis, and I soon realized 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 continued, I unpicked the arguments and proposed alternative interpretations."

"I'm not saying there's no prejudice, nor denying an old-boys 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 math and physics, whereas women are better at 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 math 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. Eva was talking now and telling the story of a friend who had been unfairly passed over for a prestigious position. Even though she had outperformed 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, felt 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 realized what I'd been listening to. Eva was telling my story, and I'd wave and smile at Jonathan, just as he'd been accused of undeservedly taking my rightful place. It looked to him like I was smugly rubbing it so I'd come back in triumph."

"Eva finished her introduction, and as the audience clapped to welcome me to the podium, Jonathan - 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 math, science, and engineering than men. I may have gone a little too far, saying that five centuries of encouragement for girls to study the hard sciences hasn't made the slightest difference, so we should conclude that most girls don't want to."

"I also said it was significant that nearly half of the 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 was 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 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 returned to my seat. But before I arrived, my grey-haired neighbor got up and said, ' 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. As the only woman in our office, I get a bathroom. It's even better when we're on an engineering rig somewhere 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.

"The riggers are big, brawny, 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 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 room.

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 civilize 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 went 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 need their protection, but the guys enjoyed being my honor guard."

"Feminists say I should object when men treat me as a weak 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 think I'm weak. 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 age or appearance.

"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 Oakeshott, 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 hundreds 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 at 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 math 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 math. 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 progressive virtues that they hogged the platform and didn't allow any of the women to speak."

Roger laughed.

"You also said something 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, he's 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 pretty comical sometimes. As a professor, he's concerned with more than a student's academic performance: some students also need personal advice. However, if a female student comes to him for comfort or reassurance, you could see him become edgy and fidget.

Eventually, he would persuade her to speak to a counselor, or he would make an excuse and leave the room, never to return."

"As his PhD student, I eventually looked after all his female undergraduates."

"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 that 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 apologize, 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."

"But women's studies is worse than soft science. As a scientist, I want the fact that 6% of engineers are women, not the interpretation that male prejudice keeps women out of science.

At least allow me to investigate the interpretation. Still, all the soft sciences wrap the facts up with their interpretations, and some of them, especially women's studies, don't allow alternative interpretations. They call you a bigot for even thinking about them."

"I upset Eva. When they recruited me into the feminist movement, I was given a book complete with horrible misogynist statements by men about how women are irrational, illogical, wanting both sides of the argument, irresponsible, blame-shifting, sexually inconstant, and money-motivated etc., etc.

"It was later realized that it was just hate ammunition against men, especially because all the quotations were five hundred years old or more. But I told Eva there was an element of truth to some of the accusations of irrationality. I'm not saying women are irrational, but one small group of women are inconsistent, want both sides of the argument, shift the blame, and are morally outraged if anyone disagrees with them."

"What group?"

"Feminists, of course."

"I suppose Eva Welwyn didn't take that very well."

"Not at all. It wasn't screaming hysterics, thank God, but I'm a traitor to my sex and a cat's paw."

"'Cat's-paw'? What a lovely old word! I like your friend, Eva. What did you say to that?"

"I'm afraid I was a bit priggish. I said: We're human before we're anything else, and I'm not on the side of women against men nor men against women."

"Clever you, capturing the moral high ground."

"I was sincere. I still am. I want a level playing field, meaning that men might do better than women in some things and women might do better than men in others. But feminists want a level playing field for things that women do better than men, such as psychology, and they want special privileges - subsidies and quotas - for things that men do better than women, such as physics."

"Did you get the last word?"

"Only the last clean one."

After a few moments of thought, Roger said:

"It's historically true that women have often gotten a raw deal."

"Yes, but not for the last five hundred years. You're a liberal, Darling. You believe we should be equal before the law, but how can you square liberalism with collective discrimination against one sex in favor of the other?"

"You're right, Darling. I'm with you completely. It should be a level playing field."

There was nothing to add, so they enjoyed the garden's peace until it was time to collect their suitcases and reluctantly leave Japan.

Capella Spaceport

Danielle and Roger took a statelier to Equatorial Africa. Then the Commonwealth Space lifted to a hyperspace passenger ship, which threaded through a beacon in Earth-synchronous orbit to jump in an instant forty-two light-years to Capella.

From fifty thousand miles away, Capella Spaceport was a dot among millions of luminous dots sprinkled heavily on the black curtain of space. It reflected light from Capella's four stars behind it, which powered a vast array of hyperspace beacons.

Three hours later, the Spaceport looked like a giant gyroscope with a spindle about ten miles long and a wheel three miles across. Huge radio dishes grew like mushrooms from the top of the spindle. More radio dishes adorned the outer surface of the wheel. The bottom of the spindle widened in two places into a lower Military Dock and an upper Freight Dock. Giant vessels attached themselves nose-first to the Spaceport like suckerfish—smaller vessels parked halfway into the docks.

Above the wheel were another two docks: one for private vessels, the other for passenger ships.

Passengers passed from the docks through customs and hygiene, where they presented their health stamps or submitted to quarantine. Capella was a gateway to the outworld colonies, which were obsessive about disease. Then, it was a lift and moving pavement to the commercial and residential districts, which lined the wheel's outer edge, whose spin created an Earth-like artificial gravity.

After navigating customs and hygiene, Danielle and Roger dropped their bags at a hotel and left to get their bearings.

The wheel's rim was divided into four quarters or causeways. The West Causeway had posh shops, banks, and better hotels. The North Causeway had the homes of the permanent residents, a school, and a park with a zoo. The South Causeway had businesses, markets, food halls, and workshops of artisans who serviced the Space Port. The East Causeway had fewer salubrious bars, betting shops, casinos, pawnbrokers, and brothels.


To be continued