One source of controversy at some academic conferences is the tendency for discussion panels to be composed largely of white men. In recent years, there’s been a heightened awareness among scholars of the importance of both gender and racial diversity when organizing such discussions — be they at conferences or on campuses.
In July, the Elliott School of International Affairs at George Washington University took an unorthodox step to ensure gender diversity in its panel discussions: It adopted a rule banning single-gender panels. Specifically, the policy requires panels with more than two speakers to include both men and women. And if all speakers happen to be of the same gender, the moderator must be of a different gender. Violating the policy could result in a panel’s cancellation.
But there was backlash. Some faculty members complained, and news outlets like Breitbart seized upon the controversy. “It’s a total, obvious infringement on common sense to begin with, and academic freedom,” said Jonathan Chaves, a professor of Chinese in the Elliott school, told the university’s student newspaper. “There’s only one standard that applies to an institution of higher education,” said Mr. Chaves, “and that is who the best person is in the field. Period.”
Dean Reuben E. Brigety II of the Elliott school, who declined to comment for this article, said in a September email to the faculty that the rule was meant to deal with “signs of gender bias.”
“We do not intend to undermine the academic freedom of the Elliott school’s faculty, but to inculcate a sense of urgency about aligning our actions with our stated values around diversity and inclusion,” he wrote. But the faculty resistance has since led Mr. Brigety to consider amending the policy.
There’s only one standard that applies to an institution of higher education, and that is who the best person is in the field. Period.
Other campuses have dealt with controversy surrounding single-gender panels. Last year, Tracy J. Fullerton, director of the University of Southern California’s interdisciplinary Games program, canceled a panel four hours before it began because the lone woman on the panel had backed out. There was backlash, with students complaining that they had missed out on opportunities to meet industry giants.
On-campus discussion panels are in many ways the lifeblood of their academic departments. They can be considered not only reflections of the department but also of the college or center that houses them. Many institutions acknowledge that featuring panels comprising only men can send the wrong message. But, as the George Washington case illustrates, outlawing them by rule can raise concerns of academic freedom and integrity among some faculty members.
Ivy Ken, president of GW’s Faculty Association, said she doesn’t believe there is a one-size-fits-all solution for gender diversity on panels, but the strength behind Mr. Brigety’s policy is in “its lack of ambiguity.” It forces those who choose single-gender panels to defend why they decided to do so. It invites, she said, an opportunity for a conversation about why that practice might be problematic.
“If the most mild thing a policy does is just gets people thinking,” said Ms. Ken, “to even think about possibly not only inviting white men to be part of their panels, then I think it’s a really effective policy.”
Ms. Ken, an associate professor of sociology, doesn’t condemn universities that have informal practices that are well understood, which seems to be the case across the nation, but those practices are “easy to flout,” she said.
Departmental leaders may be able to effectively encourage gender diversity on panels informally, Ms. Ken said, but what happens when they retire? That is where it’s useful to have rules from higher up the chain.
“Part of privilege is just not having to think about this, you just call your friends, you call your buddies, or you call people in your network, to be on panels like this,” she said. “In a practice of exclusion, like all-male, all-white panels are, we are not allowing the merits of somebody’s scholarship to actually bubble to the top.”
What Universities Can Do
One of the most recognizable efforts to diversify panels hasn’t come from administrators but from professors themselves.
Last year, women in political-science departments across the nation founded a searchable database called Women Also Know Stuff in an effort to bring attention to what they call “man-els,” or all-male panels.
Melissa Michelson, a professor of political science at Menlo College and one of the founders, said she’s seen more women included in news stories and in conferences since the site launched.
In a practice of exclusion, like all-male, all-white panels are, we are not allowing the merits of somebody’s scholarship to actually bubble to the top.
What makes people resistant to this type of change, she said, is that no one likes to be told they’re being sexist, similar to how no one likes to be told they’re being racist. “Nobody wants to be told that they’re not treating men and women equally,” said Ms. Michelson. “To be told that you have implicit biases, that women might be unfairly discriminated against and that you have to do something about it, is telling somebody that they’re part of the problem, that they’re sexist, that they are not treating people fairly. And I think that makes people defensive,” she said.
Formalizing this type of policy, she said, can lead to resentment, but a formal policy can signal to people that the administration is serious and acknowledges the problem.
Nadia E. Brown, an associate professor of political science and African-American studies at Purdue University, said she agrees with the policy at George Washington but can understand why administrators are reluctant to make it formal: The perception of forced gender diversity could reflect poorly on the university, especially with prospective students and parents. But a mandatory policy has a way of changing hearts and minds for the better with time, she said.
Ms. Brown said the argument against a rule like George Washington’s is shortsighted: It suggests that gender is not relevant to panels, or that there are other things that matter more than gender diversity, such as race, religion, ethnicity, or political affiliation. It forces diversity into a hierarchy, she said.
“It’s a fallacy to say that the researchers’ own identity does not influence how he or she tackles a research problem,” she said, “or even decides how to ask a research question, or what the research question would be.”
Scholars’ identities, shaped by how they grew up, their background, race, ethnicity, socio-economic status, to name a few, are brought into their research, Ms. Brown said. “Nothing is wholly objective. The questions that we decide to study, that we find interesting, have to come from somewhere, and they come from us,” she said.
Academics tend to rely on people they know, Ms. Brown said, which leads to a replication of hierarchies. On their syllabi, professors may cite work that is overwhelmingly white, male, or straight. These texts are studied in graduate schools and then are carried on when those graduate students decide to teach. The cycle then begins all over again, ignoring the contributions women and people of different ethnicities and races have made to particular subfields, Ms. Brown said.
But single-gender panels aren’t always all-male. Aili Mari Tripp, chair of the gender and women’s studies department at the University of Wisconsin at Madison, said her department has the opposite problem: all-female panels, because of a lack of men working in gender and women’s studies.
As for a rule enforcing gender diversity, Ms. Tripp said that other means are more effective.
“The way to go is to create incentives for gender diversity, model it, and find ways to value and recognize the expertise of women and minorities,” Ms. Tripp wrote in an email. “rather than legislating it in this way, which will only create unnecessary hostility.”
