Women in science and science communication: How do we break through stereotypes?

Who do you picture when you hear the word “scientist”? I have to admit: when I close my eyes, I still imagine a white man in a lab coat, probably middle-aged. And I’m not the only one. A recent study showed that many students still imagine scientists this way. That stereotype stuck with me during my studies, so I decided to explore it in my master’s thesis. I would love to share what I discovered!

So, how do we tackle this outdated image? One important step is to make female researchers more visible in science communication. By showing the public that women can be scientists too, we might not only break stereotypes, but also inspire more girls to study science. Sounds easy, right?

Unfortunately, it’s not that easy. A study (2022) published in Nature showed that female scientists working in STEM (Science, Technology, Engineering, Mathematics) are often unfairly judged when they speak about their research in public. People see them as less credible, focus on their appearance, or even label them as “mean”. This makes female scientists more vulnerable when they engage in science communication.

For my thesis in philosophy, I teamed up with science communicator Julie De Smedt to explore this issue. Julie often hears from female researchers that they aren’t taken seriously as experts when they talk about their work in public. That inspired our research question: how do female scientists in Flanders experience a lack of recognition and credibility when sharing their research?

We talked with 10 female researchers through focus groups and in-depth interviews. Here’s what we found:

Female researchers often aren’t taken seriously during science communication.
They experience this in four main ways:

  1. They have to prove themselves more than male colleagues. One woman told us she got repeated, non-scientific comments from audience members — simply because she wears a headscarf.
  2. People don’t listen to what they’re actually saying. Some audience members asked questions that had already been answered during the talk.
  3. Their expertise is subtly questioned. One researcher explained that, because of her migration background, her scientific insights were treated as personal opinions. During her talk, the moderator kept thanking her “for sharing her feelings” — even though she was presenting rigorous research.
  4. Their expertise is openly denied. One scientist was addressed as “little girl” during a lecture. Another faced an aggressive male journalist who completely derailed the conversation, projecting his frustrations onto her. This was so upsetting that she started crying afterward.

These experiences made many of the women feel sad, frustrated, and insecure. To protect themselves, they sometimes avoid certain people or events, discuss in advance who will do the speaking, and support each other after tough situations. They also use strategies like speaking with confidence, staying polite, and clearly stating their expertise upfront — all in an effort to be taken seriously.

Just like the Nature study suggested, our research shows that female scientists are often not treated as true experts during public communication, which puts them in a vulnerable position.

What can universities and science communication organisations do about this?

The researchers in our study had some valuable suggestions. They believe reactive support is important — such as access to psychological and legal help, support from supervisors, and clear reporting channels.

But here’s the problem: many don’t trust their institution to help them. Some have had bad experiences when reporting harassment or discrimination in the past. One researcher even said she was scared of her own university.

So here’s my message to decision-makers: support systems are important, but if researchers don’t feel safe to speak up, they won’t use them. We also need preventive actions, like clear rules about what’s acceptable in public communication settings. As one participant put it:

“If it’s judged case-by-case, it doesn’t work. We need clear guidelines — like a code of conduct — so that there’s something to refer to.”

Time for action!

Science communication organisations also have a role to play. Right now, science communication training focuses mostly on how to speak clearly and keep things short. But what about making the speaker feel safe?

One participant said:

“They never think about you as a person. It’s all about the content — how to talk, not too fast, not too long… Okay, but can you also make sure I feel protected?”

So let’s expand science communication training to include topics like discrimination, support after negative experiences, and bystander training.

The message from our study is clear: tackling unfair treatment in science communication takes teamwork. Universities and communication organisations need to work together — not separately. Only then can we make science communication a safe, enjoyable experience for everyone, regardless of gender, ethnicity, or religion.

Only when that happens can we expect female researchers to step forward as role models.