For two decades, I’ve been involved with the CG system—-that’s the Consultative Group on International Agricultural Research, an umbrella body that supervises some 15 or so international agricultural research centers. One of the Directors General (DGs) is about to leave; and the institution is seeking a replacement for her. The fact that she is a woman is remarkable; there have been very few women DGs within that system. At the moment there are two, but in a month’s time, there will most likely be one. Rumour has it that neither women nor non-white males have reached the short list, thus far.
Hearing this rumour took me back some seven years, when a similar process was underway to find the current DG. I was encouraged to apply; and I encouraged other qualified women to apply. Very few took me up on the suggestions, and I too decided against it. I struggled with my own realization that we cannot change the gender balance at the top, if women do not apply for such positions. Yet, in the end I was unwilling to subject myself to the way of life that I saw among those technically ‘in charge’.
I don’t know all the reasons others declined the opportunity to apply. But for myself, I imagined that the job would entail a number of features that I would not enjoy. These included the following:
· the need to be responsive to the requests of others at any time of the day, night, month, year. I predicted this would seriously affect both my professional autonomy and my personal life.
· I would have to spend huge amounts of time fund-raising, something I neither enjoy nor am particularly good at. This would mean correspondingly less time for research, writing, things I love.
· I would also have to spend inordinate amounts of time in tedious male-dominated meetings, the men anxiously exhibiting their strength and power—appropriately dressed in suit and tie—and often discussing irrelevancies or politics, rather than substance. I remember my revulsion at the excessive cost and [to me] objectionable conduct of The World Bank’s Annual Meeting in Washington, DC, which I attended a time or two. Politics and protocol trumped substance in formal meetings; informal ones tended to focus on fund-raising. Neither drew me into the context with any enthusiasm.
· I would need to be on ‘good behavior’ all the time. I’d have to be socially acceptable, diplomatic, well dressed, patient at all times—not really my style either.
· I believed that the position, though technically powerful, would hold less option to influence the things I wanted to accomplish than other modes of operation. I had done ethnographic research on a US school system, and observed principals, superintendents, along with other apex jobs in numerous contexts. The systems in which these people operated seriously constrained their options to make the improvements they sought (cf. Obama’s current situation).
I concluded basically that the job would entail serious reductions in my quality of life, while providing me with few options to make the kinds of changes I believe are needed. The balance of good over bad, from the perspective of my own value system, was insufficient for me to apply—even though I was and remain committed to the goal of having more women in those apex jobs. I genuinely believe that some of the changes I seek will require a more balanced gender situation at the top; there needs to be a critical mass, which we don’t yet have—and I was unwilling to make the sacrifices required. I salute the female DGs for their willingness to accept these downsides—-some of which they surely also have felt.
We are enmeshed in a vicious cycle, in which ‘the top’ needs to change to attract women. Women have already done a lot of changing—getting educated, working full time, reducing their childbearing, etc. And there are a lot more of us professionally involved, approaching the needed critical mass. I heard a talk a few years back from a US forest Service employee (can’t remember her name), who made a good story of what had happened in that organization. She felt that the USFS had been pretty successful changing the gender balance (and atmosphere) at all levels. The US is probably making better progress on these issues than international organizations. My husband complains that at Cornell Institute for International Food, Agriculture and Development, where we both work part time, he’s the only man in many meetings. He—atypically—laughs at my gender research focus this year. What we see here fits neither with what I’m reading—about women’s globally genuinely disadvantaged position—nor with my own experience elsewhere. The Cornell grad students we deal with are also mostly female.
The CG is also seeking to include more scientists from developing countries in the ranks of Director General. However, few, women or men, apply. Surely some of the same barriers I’ve listed apply to many would-be applicants—including those from developing countries. I can well imagine additional constraints for those whose native language is not English. The power of that constraint is rarely fully acknowledged. A would-be applicant would anticipate the recurrent need to negotiate complex and far-reaching financial deals for their research center, not an easy task in a language in which one is not fully fluent; working through an interpreter is never truly satisfactory. Struggling all day in a foreign language one has only partially mastered is utterly exhausting. I remember vividly a Thursday afternoon of a weeklong, French language meeting in Gabon, in which my brain just literally shut down: it refused to speak or understand another word of French until the next morning!
An even less widely acknowledged barrier for developing country scientists is psychological. Being in international fora also means being subjected to often-inadvertent but still obnoxious stereotypes and assumptions about one’s incompetence, lack of intelligence/training, and general inferiority. A representative example: I was in a small meeting room with several other scientists, being interviewed by a British visitor, who had some questions about GIS (geographical information systems). Our GIS expert was an attractive young (and very competent) Indonesian woman. Although we’d all introduced ourselves and our areas of expertise, he assumed that I (an anthropologist, but the only other westerner in the room) was the most qualified to answer his GIS questions. He turned to me repeatedly (and totally inappropriately) with his technical questions, ignoring the young Indonesian woman who knew the answers far better than I. This kind of scene recurs routinely in international contexts; any would-be developing country scientists is far too familiar with such social interactions. Strong incentives would be required to make people willing to subject themselves to such recurrent putdowns, perhaps even more blatant and uncomfortable at the top.
In short, it’s now time for ‘the top’ to change. But the questions remain: How can we do that? Where is the entry point? Perhaps wider recognition of the (actually well established) value of diversity; perhaps stronger attention to justice and equity issues; perhaps broadening our development perspective beyond the ‘hegemonic world view’ of economics; perhaps altering domestic roles, so that men are more involved in child- and eldercare; perhaps more women and developing country scientists willing to make the sacrifices I considered but was ultimately unwilling to make. The problems are systemic, and need systemic attention, from diverse perspectives and levels. Not a very straightforward or satisfying ‘answer’.