In a country that prides itself on the globally-acknowledged superiority of its engineers and tech talent pool, the TIMSS revelation came as a rude shock. Hoping to revamp the system, President Macron instructed Cedric Villani, Fields Medal winner, who also happens to be a member of the National Assembly, to draft a report that would identify actionable steps to fix what was broken and promote educational reform in the truest sense of the term. This much-awaited report was made public in mid-February this year and essentially explores 21 measures that are to be implemented urgently in order to improve performance in mathematics at primary and secondary levels. While only a very small part of this 90-page report deals with gender inequality, it nonetheless offers useful insights into the social and cultural phenomena that collude to keep women’s participation in STEM disciplines at a low level.
To be fair, France is certainly not alone in experiencing a gender gap when it comes to the number of women choosing to enter STEM disciplines, either by studying them at the post-secondary level or by selecting a career in research and technology fields later on. As an undergraduate student who majored in mathematics in the United States, I experienced the gender gap first hand. A few years later, the representation of women at the PhD level turned out to be even more disastrous as I signed up for very advanced courses in mathematics at New York University.
Inspite of the low levels of participation of women in STEM disciplines in the US, my move to Paris six years ago was an eye-opening experience in many ways. Through my daily interactions with French engineers (predominantly male) from renowned engineering schools throughout the country, I quickly became aware of the prevailing caste system in French society. Engineers graduating from the top-ranked engineering schools (the most elite institution being Ecole Polytechnique) were the reigning Brahmins in the pecking order. Being the most selective of schools, their graduates would have access to opportunities that would be largely inaccessible to others. Furthermore, the advantages conferred on the select few were more or less guaranteed to last for the rest of their lives. For example, a Polytechnique graduate, fresh out of school, would command a much higher salary than someone graduating from a less prestigious institution who had been recruited for the same position within a corporate setting. (To my knowledge, similar hiring practices do not exist in the United States. A Harvard graduate would make the same salary as someone graduating from a small State school for an entry-level job.) With time, the former would most likely be able to rise more quickly through the organization as well, given the higher level of trust placed in his/her intellectual abilities and the number of “stretch” assignments that would be conferred upon him/her. They would also benefit from the well-established network of alums that occupy positions of influence within the organization as well as outside of it. For instance, networking one’s way into an even more lucrative position elsewhere becomes much easier if one graduated from a top engineering school in France. Summing up the pay gap over the span of an entire career, the difference between the upper echelons of the engineering hierarchy and the hoi polloi is very significant. Simply put, it pays to be a math geek in France!
While I am not calling into question the excellent training received by people who graduate from top-tier engineering schools in France, I do believe that the attitudes of the general public towards STEM disciplines is conditioned by the perception that landing an admission to one of these prestigious institutions is the holy grail, a surefire way to be fast-tracked to the good life.
It is hardly surprising then that we see the emergence of clear social patterns in classrooms full of children as young as seven years old. Those who are considered “strong” in mathematics are quickly identified and those that lag behind are often allowed to fall by the wayside. At an age when the plasticity of the brain is unquestionable, young children, often girls, refer to themselves self-deprecatingly as being “nuls en maths” which roughly translates to “dumb at math.” By the time girls reach high school age, many of them opt out of science courses in spite of having good grades, choosing to specialize in the humanities instead, under the false impression that a scientific specialization would lead them to Engineering School, a place mostly reserved for men. The problem is aggravated by the time students enter their late teens and join preparatory schools to prepare for the feared entrance exams to get into the top engineering programs. As stated in Villani’s report, teachers often selectively focus on the boys in the classroom since they are thought to be more likely to succeed. The myth of the hardworking girl and the talented boy is alive and well! Women make up only a quarter of the graduating class at Polytechnique. I will refrain from making obvious statements about self-fulfilling prophecies here.
As I think back to my own early childhood in India, I realize that I was very lucky to have been born in a context where excelling in STEM disciplines was seen as a given. (For those interested in this curious phenomenon, Indian women greatly outnumber American women in STEM representation. 45% of Indian Computer Science majors are women versus a mere 21% in the United States.) My father, a physicist turned finance professional and my mother, a biochemist turned entrepreneur, did not leave me with any choice in the matter. I still remember when at the age of ten, I struggled with the Periodic Table of Elements and was getting ready to give up when my mother, with a stern look, commanded me to work harder at it. A few days later, I had not only understood it, but I had actually begun to enjoy it! Whether it was proofs in trigonometry or quantum theory in high school, the deal was clear — I would have to put in the necessary time and effort until I got it. A few years ago, I was pleasantly surprised when I read an interview of the late Maryam Mirzakhani, who won the Fields Medal in 2014. Growing up in Iran, it seems that she had not even considered the possibility of becoming a mathematician until she reached high school age. She credited her success, in part, to her high school principal, a lady who was apparently a hard taskmaster. In an interview with the Clay Institute, she said:
I do believe that many students don’t give mathematics a real chance. I did poorly in math for a couple of years in middle school; I was just not interested in thinking about it. I can see that without being excited mathematics can look pointless and cold. The beauty of mathematics only shows itself to more patient followers.
While the probability of economic success is the driving force for many decisions that students make early in life, I believe that the (un)conscious decision to give up on mathematics need not be one of them. Girls and boys need to get excited about discovering the language of mathematics and unravel its mysteries throughout their lives. Villani devotes a portion of his report to the interrelationships between mathematics and other disciplines. The link between music and mathematics is discussed as well as the mathematical structure of French grammar. The idea is to bring some fun back into classrooms across France and free mathematics of the heavy shackles of expectations that make it inaccessible to many. The pervasiveness of mathematics in our lives can not be ignored and whatever the natural inclinations of a child may be, there is always a way to make mathematics relevant in her life.
In the emerging global technocracy, France has a unique opportunity to lead the way and show the world that true educational reform can bring about lasting change in the way that women consider joining and making lasting contributions to STEM disciplines. And on a personal level, I am so over tech bros!
