let me explain

I found myself chuckling in amused recognition on Sunday while reading Rebecca Solnit's Op-Ed in the Los Angeles Times, "Men Who Explain Things." Solnit, for those unfamiliar with her work, is the author of A Field Guide to Getting Lost and River of Shadows: Eadweard Muybridge and the Technological Wild West, among other tomes. Her Op-Ed is a wry commentary on a familiar phenomenon, per the subhead: "Every woman knows what it's like to be patronized by a guy who won't let facts get in the way." She opens with the story of an upscale party at a chalet in Aspen; most of the guests were old enough that she, in her 40s, was considered quite young. So perhaps it shouldn't have been surprising when the host mentioned he'd heard she'd written a couple of books, and condescendingly asked what they might be about, "in the way you encourage your friend's 7-year-old to describe flute practice."

Solnit has actually written six or seven books, but rather than give him a laundry list -- correctly guessing he was less interested in her work than in figuring out how he could use the topic to jump-start his own literary soliloquy -- she started to tell him about the latest book (published in 2003), on Muybridge. In record time, her host interrupted and proceeded to expound at length on the "very important" Muybridge book that had been published that year, which she really must read if she was interested in Muybridge, and launched into a summation of that revered tome for her edification. His soliloquy was delivered "with that smug look I know so well in a man holding forth, eyes fixed on the fuzzy far horizon of his own authority." (That Solnit has quite a way with words, doesn't she?) Not even the news that Solnit had written the "very important" book he was pontificating about was enough to dissuade him for long, beyond a moment of ashen-faced embarrassment. Small wonder he couldn't remember her name. He had not, it turned out, actually read the book on which he was holding forth with such authority. He'd merely skimmed an article about it in The New York Times Book Review.

Now, this sort of unmasked literary pretension is quite common in certain pseudo-intellectual circles, and is not gender-specific per se. (Frankly, certain women can be just as preening and pretentious, with the same need to hold center stage. They can also be absolutely brutal when it comes to the art of diminishing the stature of perceived rivals via the subtly condescending put-down.) Solnit is very careful to point out that she is not describing all men, only a particularly annoying sub-species, and acknowledges that "my life is well-sprinkled with lovely men... Still, there are these other men, too." Explaining Men are the in-your-face embodiment of what Solnit decries as a much broader "archipelago of arrogance." It bespeaks an underlying attitude towards women as "empty vessel[s] to be filled with their [i.e., men's] wisdom and knowledge," and the worst part is, women themselves often buy into this skewed under-assessment of their relevance and abilities.

"Men explain things to me, and to other women, whether or not they know what they're talking about.... Every woman knows what I mean. It's the presumption that makes it hard, at times, for any woman in any field; that keeps women from speaking up and from being heard when they dare; that crushes young women into silence by indicating... that this is not their world. It trains us in self-doubt and self-limitation just as it exercises men's unsupported over-confidence. This syndrome is something nearly every woman faces every day, within herself too, a belief in her superfluity, an invitation to silence...."

My own experiences with Explaining Men are a bit more complex, in part because I am a science writer, and thus quite often I want someone to explain something esoteric to me, and welcome the attempt at edification. (It helps that I am naturally curious, too.) In the male-dominated field of physics, that explainer is usually going to be a man -- although the percentage of women is inching upwards every so slowly with each passing decade -- and for the most part, those men have been very decent about it, with a few rare exceptions.

That's not what Solnit is describing, however. She's talking about the sort of patronizing condescension that pervades all kinds of daily interactions between men and women; Men Who Explain Things are among the more benign examples. So I tend to agree in principle with Solnit when she writes, "Most women fight wars on two fronts, one for whatever the putative topic is, and one simply for the right to speak, to have ideas, to be acknowledged to be in possession of facts and truths, to have value...." This harsh reality hit me full force with the publication of my first book a few years ago, and my very first radio interview to promote it: an hour-long call-in program in San Francisco. Something about a former English major thinking she could effectively communicate physics concepts to a general audience stuck in the craw of one cranky male physicist, who called in specifically to harangue me on the air for my chutzpah is daring to presume to "speak for physics" (a claim I never made). He didn't actually call me uppity English major scum, but the implication was clear.

"But surely that had nothing to do with your gender," some of you might be thinking. I suspect it did. After all, he didn't merely take issue with the substance of what I said (the cornerstone of any healthy debate); he questioned my right to say anything publicly on the topic at all.

A similar incident occurred about two months later when I appeared on a radio call-in show in Washington, DC. Another male physicist called in, highly irate, to take issue with my off-the-cuff summation of the uncertainty principle. It was a nitpicky technical point, plus, it was a live show, so for all I knew, I could have mis-spoken, and said so. I hadn't, as it turns out; I'd simplified the explanation for the public radio audience, but within those constraints, it was a perfectly acceptable summation. A couple other male physicists of my acquaintance who heard the show were incensed that the caller had attacked me for no good reason -- and, frankly, a bit disappointed that I hadn't defended myself more aggressively. Mea culpa. I let self-doubt hold sway. The caller claimed to be a physicist, and I was just a first-time author, and a girl at that. Some small part of me just assumed I'd made a mistake, rather than concluding that he was being a jerk.

I have a lot more confidence these days in my right to speak and be heard; now, I'd come out swinging and make mincemeat out of that irate Explaining Man. But three years ago, I was still a bit lacking in confidence, despite all the hard work I'd done to research the book, running all the sample chapters past PhD physicists to check for technical accuracy, and so forth. Even Solnit, a far more seasoned writer, has fallen victim to this phenomenon: "There was a moment there when I was willing to believe Mr. Very Important and his overweening confidence over my more shaky certainty." And it was her book he was pontificating about!

Would I have been attacked so vigorously had I not been a young woman, with a degree in English, daring to speak about the caller's pet topic? Everyone mis-speaks occasionally when talking off-the-cuff, including the Spousal Unit. But he's a man, with a PhD in physics, so when he mis-speaks, it's assumed that he's made an honest error. When I mis-speak, it's usually assumed I am ignorant. Or sloppy. Or both. At least by men. Honestly, there were times, during the year of the First Book, when it felt less like I was being interviewed about a book I'd written, and more like I was being grilled before some self-appointed Inquisition of Popular Physics Writing to make sure I had earned the right to even be there in the first place. Generally speaking, the women who interviewed me (or reviewed the book) were interested and friendly (even if they had criticisms); several men were condescending at best, harshly critical and combative at worst.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not one of those writers who thinks her words are sacred; I rely on thoughtful, constructive criticism to improve my skills, and deliberately seek it out. I'm also a bit of a perfectionist. Like most writers, I'd dearly love to rewrite portions of that first book, so it could benefit from everything I learned in the process of writing it. That sort of input is not the same thing as a subtle power play, an attempt to put the little lady in her place, thinly disguised as helpful criticism, the better to puff up one's own ego and sense of superiority. (Jen-Luc Piquant acidly comments that if you take such faux-criticism otherwise, you're denounced as clearly "over-sensitive." Hey, must be "that time of the month!" Insert deprecating chuckle here. Cut her some slack. She's still bitter over a recent confrontation with a pompous Lacanian Avatar Who Explains Things about deconstructing Jane Eyre.)

Sometimes I envy Explaining Men this over-weening confidence in their own authority -- even when they actually know very little about the particular topic at hand. In this era of superficial dialogue, the appearance of knowledge is often all that's required.  Then again, the constant reminders of my own supposed irrelevance have made me stronger, more confident with each storm I weather that yes, I do deserve to be here, and to be heard.  All those years as a struggling writer have given me a hard-won expertise that no patronizing Explaining Man can take away from me.

Maybe I'm more appreciative of the freedom to speak because I had to fight so hard to find my voice in the first place. These days, I'm more inclined towards rueful amusement when encountering Men Who Explain Things. But as Solnit points out, that's because we've had to learn to publicly stand our ground as authors; millions of other women don't get that particular boost, and never learn to push back. That's the underlying tragedy of what would otherwise be an amusing oddity of social discourse. Per Solnit: "The battle with Men Who Explain Things has trampled many women... [including] the countless women who came before me and were not allowed into the laboratory, or the library, or the conversation, or the revolution, or even the category called human."

Certainly, throughout the ages, women have not enjoyed many exalted positions in intellectual circles, especially in math and science. Usually, they had to teach themselves, unless they came from wealthy and/or noble families. Such was the case with an 18th century Italian mathematician named Maria Gaetana Agnesi. The eldest of 21 children -- I was relieved to learn her father married three times, since the thought of one woman enduring that many pregnancies boggled the mind -- Agnesi was very much a child prodigy, known in her family as "the Walking Polyglot" because she could speak French, Italian, Greek, Hebrew, Spanish, German and Latin by the time she was 13.

Agnesi had the advantage of a wealthy upbringing; the family fortune came from the silk trade. And she also had a highly supportive father, who hired the very best tutors for his talented elder daughter. Unfortunately for the shy, retiring Agnesi, he also insisted she participate in regular intellectual "salons" he hosted for great thinkers hailing from all over Europe. The young Maria delivered an oration in defense of higher education for women in Latin at the age of 9 (she had translated it from the Italian herself and memorized the text).

There is evidence from contemporary accounts that Agnesi loathed this sort of thing and hated being put on display, even though her erudition earned her much admiration. One contemporary, Charles de Brosseslde Brosses, recalled, "she told me that she was very sorry that the visit had taken the form of a thesis defence, and that she did not like to speak publicly of such things, where for every one that was amused, twenty were bored to death."

Unlike the men in her father's salon, Agnesi didn't much care for Explaining Things. De Brosses  admired her intellectual prowess greatly, and expressed his horror upon learning that she wished to become a nun. What a waste! was the implied sentiment. And perhaps it was. But I'm thinking maybe she was far too intelligent for her own good; she just couldn't take the self-aggrandizing intellectuals of her father's acquaintance seriously. And perhaps she realized that she would always be proving herself, and that her accomplishments, no matter how impressive, would always be treated with some degree of patronizing amazement. ("Look at the smart woman discoursing in Latin!")

Agnesi did, eventually, become a nun, but not before spending 10 years writing a seminal mathematics textbook, Analytical Institutions, which was published in 1748. (Most biographies, while admiring, feel compelled to note that the tome contained "no original mathematics.") She was also the first woman to be appointed as a mathematics professor at a university -- the University of Bologna -- although there's no record she ever formally accepted the position. She died a pauper in 1799, having given away everything she owned. At least there's a crater on Venus named in her memory. And she need never be forced to perform like a trained circus monkey again, or listen to any more Explaining Men eager to find some means to edify such a prodigy. She can just let her life's work speak for itself.

I'll give Solnit the last word, since she writes so eloquently:

"Men explain things to me still. And no man has ever apologized for explaining, wrongly, things that I know and they don't. Not yet, but according to the actuarial tables, I may have another 40-something years to live, more or less, so it could happen. Though I'm not holding my breath."

Comments

[Miss Cellania]

I know exactly what you mean. And it's not just academics, either. Not long ago, I mentioned to a male friend that I had finished installing insulation under my house. He immediately explained to me how to do it and what safety precautions to take. His "bestowing of the expertise" would have been understandable, or even maybe welcome, if I hadn't JUST TOLD HIM the project was finished!

What do you wanna bet Agnesi's father needed three wives to spawn that many children because the first two died in childbirth or were weakened by having so many children, probably in a short time.

[Rich]

Yes, I've often observed this, and it makes me feel very annoyed for the subject, particularly if the guy in question is an idiot. I can't recall ever doing it, but then I'm not the best representative of the male gender since, as my cousin once so eloquently put it, I'm quite androgynous. Besides that, I don't really ever feel any particular need to give anyone advice, regardless of gender, unless they ask me for help or my opinion.

In response to Miss Cellenia's post, I have a friend who is just like that! In all fairness to him, though, he's like that to everyone, but he did once tell me something along the lines of "Women are helpless and need to be shuffled through life." Kind of ironic, since I've never known a guy who is as dependent on women as he is. I think it has a lot to do with a guy's parents; my mom was a very capable, independent single mom, and my dad, who I visited regularly, has never been the typical tough guy/alpha male. My friend's mom was a terrible single mom, and his deadbeat dad was a womanizing sexist neo-Nazi. An interesting comparison: Two good parents=person who doesn't feel a particular need to be an authority figure to anyone, two bad parents=person who feels obsessive need to be a "parent" to everyone.

[Erica]

I am so with you on this. As a lesbian who had the nerve to invade the men's domain of lesbian porn, then insist that not only do other woman sometimes enjoy it, we actually create it - and frankly we do it better than the men, because, well, *duh,* I've had more than my fair share of men who want to explain how wrong I am. Especially when I have the nerve to insist that crap is crap whether it's popular or not. :-)

I get comments on my blog, emails and even whole threads on popular forums about how wrong (and ugly and old) I am. Clearly some 20-something guy with his wang in his hand is far more of an authority on the genre that I pioneered, regardless of the fact that he knows nothing whatsoever about the early twentieth century Japanese lesbian author who is pretty much directly responsible for most of the tropes of the genre or any of the women who came after her and created much of what we consider "Yuri" today.

Not too long ago I was in discussions with another publisher for a possible joint venture. My company has been in existence for 6 years, his for 3. His is, frankly, facing finacial problems. Mine is not. After an hour on the phone where he not only told me how to run my business and how to deal with the artists I have (Gee, thanks, if only I'd known I could be just like you!) he took offense when I described a book of his in a particularl way. He got all huffy - "Are you calling my book "jargon-word"?" I said, "No - the author does. Haven't you ever read the author's note?" Ultimately, it was this attitude that made me decide to terminate the discussions.

Bitter? No. Amused on good days and exhausted on bad ones. I always said that I'd be no more than a footnote when, ultimately, the big book o'Yuri was written. But some days, it's hard to fight the good fight. Thank the gods I don't care what other people think. :-)

Cheers,

Erica

Hungry for Yuri? Have some Okazu!
http://okazu.blogspot.com

[Dave]

I've been reading your blog for a while now, and I never caught on that you don't have a PhD in physics. Feynman was great at explaining difficult topics to the general public. I just assumed that you were doing the same thing.

[Carmela Martino]

I, too, have had things explained to me by men who know less on the topic in question than I do. And I agree that it is very annoying. It does seem to be a trait most often exhibited by men, but I once had a woman do this to me. Interestingly, she was in her mid-twenties and I was in my forties at the time. I hope this doesn't mean that young women are acquiring this "bad habit."
By the way, I'm happy to see you mention Maria Gaetana Agnesi, a woman few people seem to have heard of. There are two new books out about her that document new research contradicting some of the accepted "facts" about her life. (For example, she never became a nun.) One of the books, written by mathematics professor Antonella Cupillari, points out that in an era when women were expected to either marry or join a convent, Agnesi enjoyed unusual freedom. She was ahead of her time in many ways.

[Matt]

Is it okay that I feel defensive on this topic? You mentioned that you know not all men are like this, but the language, including Slonit's, sounds too inclusive at times. That some men are sexist blowhards is depressingly true, though. I was home visiting my parents a few weeks ago and was on the porch sipping whiskey with a house guest of theirs. This house guest, who's known both of my parents forever, confided in me that my mother was "the smartest woman I've ever known." My gasters were flabbered because I know him, I know her, and I know a lot of people they both know. It's not too unlikely that she's the smartest *person* he knows, but he just had to qualify it.

And then on to my favorite story shattering these gender lines:

My wife has a degree in Materials Science, and while we were dating we went to a car dealer so I could buy a car. She was young, perhaps 20, and she looked even younger. We were clearly buying the car together (we were engaged) but the salesman was explaining things just to me. He got to the part about the car's body construction, which was some kind of polymer, and explained about it having "memory". This sounded like a silly sciency buzzword to me, so I asked Beth if such a thing could exist. She confirmed that there were new-ish polymers that returned to their shape after deformation in a new kind of way and that polymer scientists did indeed refer to that process as "memory". I thanked her for the confirmation, and from that moment on whenever the guy had something to say about the more technical aspects of the car he looked to her for confirmation that his promotional literature wasn't full of crap. So at least some Explaining Men can learn their lesson...

[Jennifer Ouellette]

Hi Matt--

Sorry you feel defensive, but I really did try to make a clear distinction between helpful explanation -- the bread and butter of my profession as a science writer, and something I really do welcome -- and the phenomenon of Explaining Men. That phrase refers to a very specific TYPE, and even Solnit wouldn't expand it to encompass all men generally. If you think that, you're misreading. Not all men who proffer explanations are Explaining Men; it's all in the attitude in which it is offered. I really tried to use Explaining Men or Men Who Explain Things -- and not the broader "men" -- throughout the post.

I think you mostly feel defensive because you're a guy, and perhaps you've been known to offer a helpful explanation now and then, so you erroneously assume the post is directed at you. It's not. You're obviously one of the "lovely men" to whom Solnit explicitly refers early on in her article.

[Matt]

Bah.

I'm too sensitive, your writing was clear.

[Gordon Wilson]

Blush... when I think back to an earlier topic of yours when I called your postmodern English
prof an innumerate humanist :)

[andy.s]

I can't believe you mentioned Maria Agnesi without bringing up the "Witch of Agnesi".

You just set down and I'll 'splain all about it...

Oh hell, just look it up on Wikipedia like I did.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Witch_of_Agnesi

[Jennifer Ouellette]

The post was getting too long, so I left out all the stuff about the Witch of Agnesi. I had a cool diagram to illustrate it and everything! But hey, folks can certainly follow the Wikipedia link and find out for themselves... Thanks for posting it.

[Lab Lemming]

Well, my explanation is that Solnit simply goes to the wrong sorts of parties...

But then what do I know? I'm just an explaining man.

[Ellen]

I've had guys do it. I've had gals do it. You get monomaniacs everywhere, but the women and the men tend to get monomaniacal about different things.

[Chris]

Interesting post, which I read after stumbling here from another site. All I can add (and I hope this is helpful) is that men run into Explaining Men all the time. I also run into Explaining Women (my significant other happens to be of this type, though I still manage to love her very much). As a journalism major who once wrote science stories (only to have my interpretations called into question by "real" scientist-type guys) I can tell you that some people can be just as pompous to 6'3" guys as they can be to women. These people use their personalities the same way sharks use their mouths: to interact with the world around them, regardless of whether they actually intend to hurt anyone.

My question: Is it possible that condescension based on gender, and simple condescension, can exist in the same universe?

Just asking.

p.s. Women rule. Really.

cpb

[Linda F]

Sigh.

I'm a physics/chemistry teacher, and, outside the relatively small group of PTRAs (top 100 or so physics teachers in the US), have spent much of my career dealing with those arrogant "experts". Often, they have SLIGHT knowledge of the subject (such as Biology majors), but proceed to act as though they are an ace.

The funny thing is, the more the person knows, the more humble they are - I know PhDs in physics who will listen, attentively, to others with far less knowledge, and thank them for their input.

With such a person, I've lately taken the tactic of expressing wide-eyed interest, exclaiming "Wow! You know so much about _______", and excusing myself for a well-deserved drink.

[Sachin]

I have known too many supersmart women, and too many not-so-sharp men (and vice versa) who are scientists to conclude that gender is not a fault-line that separates the competent from the incompetent. As a scientist myself (unsure of the silo I belong to), I enjoy the fact that popular science articles are on the rise. I like your writing, although to be honest I haven't read very much.

Having said that, I have observed that a fairly substantial fraction of popular science, is improperly researched. Unlike poetry, where any opinion or interpretation can be "valid", it is quite possible (and easy in some cases, e.g evolution) in science to have a wrong interpretation, or an invalid opinion.

[Erica]

I know this post is ancient in blog years, but I had a classic example just the other day. I mentioned on IRC that I was shopping for a new laptop, then listed what I was considering. Some random 20-something Man Who Explains explaned to me why I should do research (I'd already done,) and make decisions carefully (that I'd already made.) And when I pointed out that I had done the research, made the decisions was, in fact, stating the *end* result of that, but hey, thanks for the unwanted, unneded and unasked for advice, he got all sulky at me and "explained" that he was just trying to help. I replied, "when a woman tells you that she's shopping for a computer, learn to nod."

I doubt he got my point.

Cheers,

Erica