On 11 February, we celebrate the International Day of Women and Girls in Science. The reason for establishing this day was simple: although science is no longer a “closed club” reserved for men, equality too often stops at declarations and statistics from the early stages of academic careers. And the problem is more complex than simply increasing the number of women at universities.
The mere presence of women in academia is not yet a measure of equality. Lecture halls may be full of female students, while hierarchies of prestige remain intact, power continues to be concentrated on one side, and promotion opportunities remain systemically unequal on the other. If we reduce the debate to proportions – “there are many women, so there is no problem” – we miss the point: access to advancement, safety, resources, recognition and real agency.
What has really changed over the years?
For centuries, women in science were guests, often without the right of entry. Universities in many countries began admitting women only in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Pioneers such as Maria Skłodowska-Curie, Sofia Kovalevskaya and Laura Bassi paved the way in the face of institutional resistance. The twentieth century brought breakthroughs: doctoral degrees, academic positions, laboratories and grants. Yet progress at the top of academic hierarchies was painfully slow. As late as the 1990s, women accounted for only a few percent of full professors in many European countries. It was then that the concept of the “leaky pipeline” became widely used: with each successive step of an academic career, the proportion of women decreases, even if many are present at the starting point.
Here lies the first trap: it is easy to mistake progress in access for progress in equality. Formal entry into science does not mean that the path is equally smooth.
The global picture
Globally, the situation resembles two parallel realities. On the one hand, women constitute a significant share of those earning the highest academic degrees. UNESCO data indicate that women account for around 44 percent of doctoral graduates worldwide. On the other hand, they make up only about 33 percent of researchers. In other words, we educate women scientists almost equally, yet significantly fewer remain in research careers and sustain them over time.
This suggests that between education and career there operates a filter: an accumulation of small inequalities, biases and barriers that may appear as isolated “incidents” but together create a systemic pattern.
Poland
Poland often performs relatively well in statistics, particularly at early stages. Women account for about 53 percent of doctoral degree holders, even above the EU average. This is important, as it challenges the myth of a “lack of female candidates” and demonstrates that the talent pool exists. Moreover, the share of women among researchers in universities and public institutes is relatively high, around 47 percent in higher education.
The problem emerges at subsequent career stages. In Poland, women represent only about 28 percent of full professors. Academic power still has a distinctly male face: women constitute only a small percentage of rectors, and remain clearly underrepresented among vice-rectors and deans.
If someone argues that there are disciplines dominated by women, it is worth looking at art universities. There, female students may constitute up to 80 percent, yet women account for only around 20 percent of staff, and even fewer hold decision-making roles. This clearly illustrates that the feminisation of a field does not guarantee the feminisation of prestige.
“There are many women, so there is no discrimination” – a convenient smokescreen
In Polish academia, one often hears: “But there are so many women in your field. There cannot be discrimination.” The statement sounds reasonable because it refers to what is visible in the corridor. Precisely for this reason, it functions effectively as a smokescreen.
In our recent article (Górska et al., 2026), we refer to this mechanism as “gender blindness”: if there are many women, one can pretend that gender “no longer matters.” Yet it does matter. Some simply do not wish to see it, and others have no interest in doing so.
Our research reveals this mechanism clearly. Some male respondents do not “notice” inequality and interpret the system as neutral. Some women, even when they have experienced discrimination, avoid speaking about it publicly for fear of being labelled a “trouble maker.” Others say, “I was lucky.” This raises a crucial question: in a professional environment, should one really need luck to avoid inequality?
Where do inequalities come from?
Inequality is often subtle and dispersed, which makes it harder to capture. It manifests in several ways.
1. Bias in evaluating competence
Numerous experiments (Moss-Racusin et al., 2017) show that identical CVs labelled with a male name receive higher competence ratings, greater perceived employability, higher proposed salaries and more mentoring offers than the same CV bearing a female name. Importantly, this effect appears among both male and female evaluators.
This connects to what is known as “brilliance bias,” the tendency to associate genius with masculinity. In many academic environments, men are evaluated through the lens of “brilliance,” whereas women are more often assessed based on character and demeanour. This is not only unfair, but strategically dangerous, as academia rewards narratives of exceptional talent.
2. Unequal access to recognition
Research on scientific teams shows that women are significantly less likely to be credited as authors of publications, and especially patents, even when working in the same teams and performing similar roles. This resembles a contemporary version of the “Matilda effect,” whereby women’s contributions are more likely to be minimised or attributed to others.
In science, publications, citations and patents function as currency. They influence grants, promotions, invitations to projects and overall visibility. If women receive less recognition for comparable contributions, the system itself produces “evidence” of their supposedly lower productivity.
3. Work culture and safety
Inequality also has a very practical dimension.
Reports from various countries, including the widely cited 2018 report by the US National Academies, indicate that sexual harassment and sexism are widespread in academia. Their consequences can include women withdrawing from conferences, avoiding research travel, changing teams, or leaving academia altogether.
Comparative Polish studies conducted over the past decade clearly show that this problem exists locally as well. In recent years, the percentage of women reporting experiences of hostility, unwanted comments about appearance and body, and unwanted sexual behaviour has increased. Some of this rise may reflect greater awareness and willingness to name misconduct. However, given the scale of change, it is difficult to attribute everything solely to increased sensitivity.
At this point, the “pipeline” from doctoral degree to professorship ceases to be a mystery. If one third of surveyed women report experiencing hostility, we are dealing with an environment that is unsafe for many.
The invisible labour of adjustment
There is yet another layer rarely discussed openly, but well known to women in academia: the daily labour of self-adjustment. How to dress so as not to be reduced to appearance. How to speak without sounding “too harsh” or “too soft.” How to avoid being ignored. How not to be “too nice” or “too difficult.” This daily effort consumes energy that is invisible in a CV, yet represents a real emotional burden.
Research on teaching evaluations shows that students more often expect warmth and kindness from women, while expecting competence and objectivity from men. Women are more frequently labelled “unpleasant,” “unfair” or “irritating,” whereas men are more often described as “intelligent,” “brilliant” or “genius.” As student evaluations increasingly function as indicators of teaching quality, such stereotypes directly affect careers.
Why does this matter?
Equality in science concerns justice, but also the quality and future of research. Science loses when the system pushes out part of its talent or forces people to pay an emotionally unsustainable price for their careers. Diversity of perspectives enhances creativity, encourages new questions and broadens intellectual curiosity.
On 11 February, it is worth celebrating the achievements of women in science. But it is equally important to ask uncomfortable questions about the conditions under which those achievements are produced. The gap does not disappear simply because we mention it once a year. It narrows only when we stop confusing numbers with equality and begin implementing real change. The first step is recognising the need for that change.
