Invisible Women: Exposing Data Bias in a World Designed for Men

by Caroline Criado Perez

  And yet in the face of decades of evidence that the generic masculine is anything but clear, official language policy in many countries continues to insist that it is purely a formality whose use must continue for the sake of . . . clarity. As recently as 2017, the Académie française, France’s ultimate authority on the French language, was thundering against ‘the aberration of “inclusive writing”’, claiming that ‘the French language finds itself in mortal danger’ from workarounds for the generic masculine. Other countries including Spain27 and Israel28 have faced similar rows.

  Because English is not a grammatically gendered language, the generic masculine is fairly restricted in modern usage. Terms like ‘doctor’ and ‘poet’ used to be generic masculine (with specifically female doctors and poets referred to – usually derisively – as poetesses and doctoresses), but are now considered gender neutral. But while the formal use of the generic masculine only really clings on in the writings of pedants who still insist on using ‘he’ to mean ‘he or she’, it has made something of a comeback in the informal usage of Americanisms such as ‘dude’ and ‘guys’, and, in the UK, ‘lads’ as supposedly gender-neutral terms. A recent row in the UK also showed that, for some, male default still matters an awful lot: when in 2017 the first female head of London’s Fire Brigade, Dany Cotton, suggested that we should replace ‘fireman’ with the now standard (and let’s face it, much cooler) ‘firefighter’, she received a deluge of hate mail.29

  Languages such as French, German and Spanish, however, are what is called ‘gender-inflected’, and here the concept of masculine and feminine is woven into the language itself. All nouns are gendered either masculine or feminine. A table is feminine, but a car is masculine: la mesa roja (the red table); el coche rojo (the red car). When it comes to nouns that refer to people, while both male and female terms exist, the standard gender is always masculine. Try searching Google for ‘lawyer’ in German. It comes back ‘Anwalt’, which literally means male lawyer, but is also used generically as just ‘lawyer’. If you want to refer to a female lawyer specifically you would say ‘Anwältin’ (incidentally, the way female terms are often, as here, modified male terms is another subtle way we position the female as a deviation from male type – as, in de Beauvoir’s terms, ‘Other’). The generic masculine is also used when referring to groups of people: when the gender is unknown, or if it’s a mixed group the generic masculine is used. So a group of one hundred female teachers in Spanish would be referred to as ‘las profesoras’ – but as soon as you add a single male teacher, the group suddenly becomes ‘los profesores’. Such is the power of the default male.

  In gender-inflected languages the generic masculine remains pervasive. Job vacancies are still often announced with masculine forms – particularly if they are for leadership roles.30 A recent Austrian study of the language used in leadership jobs ads found a 27:1 ratio of masculine to ‘gender-fair forms’ (using both the male and female term).31 The European Parliament believes it has found a solution to this problem, and since 2008 has recommended that ‘(m/f)’ be added on the end of job ads in gender-inflected languages. The idea is that this makes the generic masculine more ‘fair’ by reminding us that women exist. It’s a nice idea – but it wasn’t backed up by data. When researchers did test its impact they found that it made no difference to the exclusionary impact of using the generic masculine on its own – illustrating the importance of collecting data and then creating policy.32

  Does all this arguing over words make any real world difference? Arguably, yes. In 2012, a World Economic Forum analysis found that countries with gender-inflected languages, which have strong ideas of masculine and feminine present in almost every utterance, are the most unequal in terms of gender. 33 But here’s an interesting quirk: countries with genderless languages (such as Hungarian and Finnish) are not the most equal. Instead, that honour belongs to a third group, countries with ‘natural gender languages’ such as English. These languages allow gender to be marked (female teacher, male nurse) but largely don’t encode it into the words themselves. The study authors suggested that if you can’t mark gender in any way you can’t ‘correct’ the hidden bias in a language by emphasising ‘women’s presence in the world’. In short: because men go without saying, it matters when women literally can’t get said at all.

  It’s tempting to think that the male bias that is embedded in language is simply a relic of more regressive times, but the evidence does not point that way. The world’s ‘fastest-growing language’,34 used by more than 90% of the world’s online population, is emoji.35 This language originated in Japan in the 1980s and women are its heaviest users:36 78% of women versus 60% of men frequently use emoji.37 And yet, until 2016, the world of emojis was curiously male.

  The emojis we have on our smartphones are chosen by the rather grand-sounding ‘Unicode Consortium’, a Silicon Valley-based group of organisations that work together to ensure universal, international software standards. If Unicode decides a particular emoji (say ‘spy’) should be added to the current stable, they will decide on the code that should be used. Each phone manufacturer (or platform such as Twitter and Facebook) will then design their own interpretation of what a ‘spy’ looks like. But they will all use the same code, so that when users communicate between different platforms, they are broadly all saying the same thing. An emoji face with heart eyes is an emoji face with heart eyes.

  Unicode has not historically specified the gender for most emoji characters. The emoji that most platforms originally represented as a man running, was not called ‘man running’. It was just called ‘runner’. Similarly the original emoji for police officer was described by Unicode as ‘police officer’, not ‘policeman’. It was the individual platforms that all interpreted these gender-neutral terms as male.

  In 2016, Unicode decided to do something about this. Abandoning their previously ‘neutral’ gender stance, they decided to explicitly gender all emojis that depicted people.38 So instead of ‘runner’ which had been universally represented as ‘male runner’, Unicode issued code for explicitly male runner and explicitly female runner. Male and female options now exist for all professions and athletes. It’s a small victory, but a significant one.

  It’s easy to slam phone manufacturers and social media platforms as sexist (and, as we shall see, they are, if often unknowingly), but the reality is that even if they had somehow managed to design an image of a ‘gender neutral’ runner, most of us would still have read that runner as male, because we read most things as male unless they are specifically marked as female. And so while it is of course to be hoped that angry grammarians will come round to the idea that saying ‘he and she’ (or even, God forbid, ‘she and he’) instead of just ‘he’ may not be the worst thing that has ever happened to them, the truth is that getting rid of the generic masculine would only be half the battle: male bias is so firmly embedded in our psyche that even genuinely gender-neutral words are read as male.

  A 2015 study identified the top five words used to refer to people in human-computer interaction papers published in 2014 and found that they are all apparently gender neutral: user, participant, person, designer and researcher.39 Well done, human-computer interaction academics! But there is (of course) a catch. When study participants were instructed to think about one of these words for ten seconds and then draw an image of it, it turned out that these apparently gender-neutral words were not perceived as equally likely to be male or female. For male participants, only ‘designer’ was interpreted as male less than 80% of the time (it was still almost 70% male). A researcher was more likely to be depicted as of no gender than as a female. Women were slightly less gender-biased, but on the whole were still more likely to read gender-neutral words as male, with only ‘person’ and ‘participant’ (both read by about 80% of male participants as male) being about 50/50.

  This rather disheartening finding tallies with decades of ‘draw a scientist’ data, where participants overwhelmingly draw men
(the bias has historically been so extreme that media around the world celebrated as great progress a recent paper which found that 28% of children now draw women).40 It also tallies, perhaps more disturbingly, with a 2008 study in which Pakistani students (aged nine and ten) who were asked to draw an image of ‘us’.41 Hardly any of the female students drew women and none of the male students did.

  We don’t even allow non-humans to escape our perception of the world as overwhelmingly male: when researchers in one study attempted to prompt participants to see a gender-neutral stuffed animal as female by using female pronouns, children, parents and carers still overwhelmingly referred to the animal as ‘he’.42 The study found that an animal must be ‘super-feminine’ before ‘even close to half of participants will refer to it as she rather than he’.

  To be fair, it’s not an entirely unreasonable assumption: often it really is a he. A 2007 international study of 25,439 children’s TV characters found that only 13% of non-human characters are female (the figure for female human characters was slightly better, although still low at 32%).43 An analysis of G-rated (suitable for children) films released between 1990 and 2005 found that only 28% of speaking roles went to female characters – and perhaps even more tellingly in the context of humans being male by default, women made up only 17% of crowd scenes.44

  Men don’t just have more roles, they also spend twice as much time on screen – this rises to nearly three times as much when, as most films do, the film has a male lead.45 Only when the lead is female do men and women appear about as often as each other (as opposed to women getting, as you might expect, the majority of screen time). Men also get more lines, speaking twice as much as women overall; three times as much in films with male leads; and almost twice as much in films with male and female co-leads. Again it is only in the few films with female leads where male and female characters drew even on screen time.

  This imbalance is found not just in films and TV. It’s everywhere.

  It’s in statues: when I counted all the statues in the UK’s Public Monuments and Sculptures Association database I found that there were more statues of men called John than there were of historical, named, non-royal women (the only reason adding royal women to the figure just beats the Johns is down to Queen Victoria, whose enthusiasm for putting up statues of herself I have a grudging respect for).

  It’s on banknotes: in 2013 the Bank of England announced they were replacing the only female historical figure on their banknotes with another man (I fought a successful campaign against it and campaigns have cropped up in other countries, including Canada and the US).46

  It’s in the news media: every five years since 1995, the Global Media Monitoring Project has evaluated the world’s print and broadcast media for its representation of women. Its latest report, published in 2015, found that ‘women make up only 24% of the persons heard, read about or seen in newspaper, television and radio news, exactly as they did in 2010’.47

  It’s even in school textbooks. Thirty years of language and grammar textbook studies in countries including Germany, the US, Australia, and Spain have found that men far outnumber women in example sentences (on average by about 3:1).48 A US study of eighteen widely used high-school history textbooks published between 1960 and 1990 found that pictures of named men outnumbered pictures of named women by a ratio of about 18 to 100 and that only 9% of the names in the indexes were women (a figure that persisted into the 2002 edition of one of the textbooks).49 More recently, a 2017 analysis of ten introductory political-science textbooks found that an average of only 10.8% of pages per text referenced women (some texts were as low as 5.3%).50 The same level of male bias has been found in recent analyses of Armenian, Malawian, Pakistani, Taiwanese, South African and Russian textbooks.51

  So widespread is this cultural bias towards representing men that the makers of the classic sci-fi action game series, Metroid, relied on it when they wanted to surprise their users. ‘We wondered what would surprise everyone and talked about removing [main character] Samus’s helmet. Then someone said, ‘It would be a shocker if Samus turned out to be a woman!’ they recalled in a recent interview.52 And to make sure everyone really got it, they put her in a pink bikini and hip-jutting pose.

  Metroid was – and remains – something of an outlier in gaming. Although a 2015 Pew Research Center report53 found that equal numbers of American men and women play video games, only 3.3%54 of the games spotlighted at press conferences during 2016’s E3 (the world’s largest annual gaming expo) starred female protagonists. This is actually lower than the figure for 2015 which, according to Feminist Frequency, was 9%.55 If female playable characters do make it into a game they are still often framed as just another feature. At E3 2015 the director of Fallout 4, Todd Howard, revealed how easy it was to switch between male and female playable characters – only to switch back to the male version for the rest of the demo.56 As Feminist Frequency remarked when they released their data on E3 2016, ‘heroes are male by default’.57

  The result of this deeply male-dominated culture is that the male experience, the male perspective, has come to be seen as universal, while the female experience – that of half the global population, after all – is seen as, well, niche. It is because what is male is universal that when a professor at Georgetown University named her literature course ‘White Male Writers’, she hit the headlines, while the numerous courses on ‘female writers’ pass unremarked.58

  It is because what is male is universal (and what is female is niche) that a film about the fight of British women for their right to vote is slammed (in the Guardian, no less) as ‘peculiarly hermetic’ for not covering the First World War – sadly proving that Virginia Woolf’s 1929 observation (‘This is an important book, the critic assumes, because it deals with war. This is an insignificant book because it deals with the feelings of women in a drawing-room’) is still relevant today.59 It is why V. S. Naipaul criticises Jane Austen’s writing as ‘narrow’, while at the same time no one is expecting The Wolf of Wall Street to address the Gulf War, or Norwegian writer Karl Ove Knausgaard to write about anyone but himself (or quote more than a single female writer) to receive praise from the New Yorker for voicing ‘universal anxieties’ in his six-volume autobiography.

  It is why the England national football team page on Wikipedia is about the men’s national football team, while the women’s page is called the England women’s national football team, and why in 2013 Wikipedia divided writers into ‘American Novelists’ and ‘American Women Novelists’. It is why a 2015 study of multiple language Wikipedias found that articles about women include words like ‘woman’, ‘female’ or ‘lady’, but articles about men don’t contain words like ‘man’, ‘masculine’ or ‘gentleman’ (because the male sex goes without saying).60

  We class the fourteenth to seventeenth centuries as ‘the Renaissance’ even though, as social psychologist Carol Tavris points out in her 1991 book The Mismeasure of Woman, it wasn’t a renaissance for women, who were still largely excluded from intellectual and artistic life. We call the eighteenth century ‘the Enlightenment’, even though, while it may have expanded ‘the rights of man’, it ‘narrowed the rights of women, who were denied control of their property and earnings and barred from higher education and professional training’. We think of ancient Greece as the cradle of democracy although the female half of the population were explicitly excluded from voting.

  In 2013, British tennis player Andy Murray was lauded across the media for ending Britain’s ‘77-year wait’ to win Wimbledon, when in fact Virginia Wade had won it in 1977. Three years later, Murray was informed by a sports reporter that he was ‘the first person ever to win two Olympic tennis gold medals’ (Murray correctly replied that ‘Venus and Serena have won about four each’).61 In the US it is a truth universally acknowledged that its soccer team has never won the World Cup or even reached the final – except it has. Its women’s team has won four times.62

  Recent years have seen some
laudable attempts to address this relentless male cultural bias, but these are often met with hostility. When Thor was reinvented as a woman by Marvel Comics,63 fans revolted – although as Wired magazine pointed out, ‘no one uttered a preep’ when Thor was replaced by a frog.64 When the Star Wars franchise released two films in a row with a female lead howls of outrage reverberated around the manosphere.65 One of the UK’s longest-running television shows (Doctor Who) is a sci-fi fantasy series about a shape-shifting alien who periodically morphs into a new body, and the alien’s first twelve incarnations were all male. But in 2017, for the first time, the doctor morphed into a woman. In response, former doctor Peter Davison expressed ‘doubts’ about the wisdom of casting a woman in the role of Doctor Who.66 He preferred the idea of the doctor as ‘a boy’ and mourned ‘the loss of a role model for boys’. Upset men took to Twitter calling for a boycott of the show, condemning the decision as ‘PC’ and ‘liberal’ virtue-signalling.67

  Colin Baker, the body into whom the Peter Davison doctor had morphed, disagreed with his predecessor. Boys have ‘had fifty years of having a role model’, he argued. And in any case, he mused, do you have to be the same gender as someone to be a role model? ‘Can’t you be a role model as people?’ Not really, Colin, because as we’ve seen, ‘people’ tends to be read as male. And in any case, while there is evidence that women can to a certain extent accept men as role models, men won’t do the same for women. Women will buy books by and about men, but men won’t buy books by and about women (or at least not many).68 When adventure video game series Assassin’s Creed announced in 2014 that it would not be possible to play as a female assassin in their new cooperative multiplayer mode, some male players were pleased with the decision.69 Playing as a woman would alienate them from the game, they argued.