The Inoculation Frame

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I’m truly getting too old for this. Yesterday, in the Huffington Post’s daily brief there was a headline that I had to read several times before it eventually penetrated my brain: “Women Who Write About Tech Are Still Being Abused Online.” Why, I’m sure you are thinking, did I have to read this several times to get it? It is, after all, a very simple statement, not big words, perfectly straightforward. So, why? I couldn’t believe what I was reading. It is, after all, almost 2016.

Eventually, I gathered up enough courage to read the article; it was short, fortunately, but startling, prompting me to read the original article in The Guardian. Based on the author’s research, being a female tech writer—which includes the obvious technological things, gadgets and do-dads, as well as gaming—is hazardous to both a woman’s health and career.

Just as Mary Ann Evans felt the need in the 1800s to publish under the male name of George Eliot, many female tech writers in 2015 feel the same need if they want both credibility and protection. In fact, 20% of the 100 female tech writers in Catherine Adams’ study said they have disguised their sex or name, or written anonymously, in order to avoid verbal and online abuse—abuse that 62% of the respondents have experienced. (Compare this to 73% of male science and tech journalists surveyed last year who said they have not encountered any sexist responses to their work.) Others have changed their writing habits (39%), while 31% report that the situation has gotten worse in recent years. Amazingly, respondents reported death threats, rape threats (apparently some male gamers don’t like female tech writers calling out the misogyny of some games) and other kinds of threats. Women tech writers have even changed their careers because of the abuse.

Perhaps (and that is a long shot) I would have ignored the title, not read the article, if I hadn’t already been drawn to another study that I knew would end up in a blog sometime soon. This study, done by VitalSmarts, reveals that “women’s perceived competency drops by 35 percent and their perceived worth by $15,088 when they are equally as assertive or forceful as their male colleagues.” I hope you are as dumbfounded as I was when I first read this. To be fair, the study did show that assertive men were also punished for their assertiveness, “but to a much lesser degree.”

 The researchers created videos of a male and a female (both rated equally attractive by independent evaluators, removing that variable as a possible influence) in a meeting room; both were given identical scripts and coached to give identical performances. Over 4,500 participants watched 30-40 second clips of the actor’s performance in the “meeting” and rated them on a 21 items that met the researches definition of assertiveness, things like speaking up with a different opinion, especially when the risks seemed high to do so, and using “strong emotions.” Both men and women who were seen as being assertive and forceful were rated lower in their status, competency and worth. But men’s status dropped by 25%, women’s 41%; men’s competency went down by 22%, women’s by 35%. And men’s worth dropped by less than half ($6,547) than women’s ($15,088).

There is so much about this data that startles and bothers me—yet at the same time, I’m shrugging my shoulders and saying, “So, what’s new?” Men being assertive have always been labeled strong and good leaders, while women who engaged in the exact same behavior are called bitches and in need of sexual activity. The former were/are valued; the latter dismissed. But this study puts a hard cost to this dismissal based solely on perception, which, we know, is based on stereotypes.

But this study went on and did a part two, with a slightly different second scenario: they had the actors add an opening introduction or caveat to their assertive behavior that warned the audience that the speakers were going to be honest, act with integrity, take the risk of speaking their minds, and then they delivered the message.

There were two different caveats for the male actor and three for the female. Both the male and female used the “Behavior Frame,” where the introduction simply told the audience of the behavior to follow: I’m going to speak very directly; the “Value Frame,” which both used, explained the value position from which the straight talk was coming: I’m going to speak with honesty and integrity. And the third frame, used only by the female actor, and called the “Inoculation Frame” (great title, by the way), warned the audience that what the female speaker was about to do—speak directly and—risky for a woman. And while each of the frames worked to decrease perceptions, the Value Frame was the most protective for men and the second most protective for women. But it was the Inoculation Frame that called out people’s biases from the beginning that gave women the most protection.

It is terrific to know that assertive men and women have tools to mitigate the damage that their behavior might cause. But the Inoculation Frame is an apology: “Hey, men (and the rest of you in the audience), I know I’m not supposed to do this as it is risky (subtext, but I’m going to do it anyway, so I’m warning and apologizing before I do it) ….” But it isn’t cool at all that women have to resort to an apology before speaking, something that every female should have been taught at an early age never to do, in order to moderate the damage of being direct.