Ending all-male panels is not tokenism

Public debate is in a bad way when efforts aimed at achieving a better gender balance can be dismissed.

The debate about the lack of women in public life has been reignited by poor female representation at last week’s gathering of the world’s financial, political and media elite in Davos. Just 17 per cent of delegates and only a quarter of panel speakers at the annual schmooze fest were women. Earlier this month Rebecca Rosen, at the Atlantic, suggested that men should sign up to a pledge not to speak on all-male panels after another technology conference featured an all-male line up. Rosen’s ‘panel pledge’ received a stream of abuse and she faced accusations of tokenism.

Public debate is in a bad way when getting a better gender balance can be dismissed like this. After all, these are not symbolic attempts to give the appearance of sexual equality, but efforts to ensure that half the population is represented in influential discussions that shape economic and political priorities with a direct impact on people’s lives. And while it is sadly true that there are fewer women in top positions to choose from – this cannot be an excuse to exclude women from public debates altogether.

While Rosen’s panel pledge generated much heat in the US, similar appeals have been made in the UK. A prominent group of women recently challenged the organisers of a number of apparently ‘men only’ Westminster-based events, highlighting for example a debate on the impact of the recession and spending cuts (which will hit women hardest)which featured no female speakers. Meanwhile, a series of Policy Fight Club debates (complete with macho red and blue corners) attracted attention when they featured three all-male line ups on the EU, legalising drugs and Scottish independence with as many as six guest speakers (including chairs)on the panel (hard to believe in this case they had tried but failed to secure women speakers).

Of course this has to change. But who exactly is responsible? Should men being invited to speak in public debates refuse to do so unless there is a woman on the panel? Should audiences boycott events with all male line-ups?

Refusing to take part in an all-male panel is not without its dilemmas, but as one man who is a panel regular suggests men can at least ask whether the line-up is likely to be all-male and suggest some women alternatives or decline to take part if there is no good justification. And while we shouldn’t place an unfair burden on event organisers, few buy the idea there are not enough talented women equipped to speak on almost any area of public life. So if organisations in politics, media, business and civil society aim to contribute to the public debate, they should think first about whether they are including a properly mixed range of voices in discussions.

This includes Westminster-based organisations like the think tank, IPPR, where I work. Particularly in areas like economics, relying on existing networks can lead to the same male, pale and stale debates. Changing this, as IPPR is now committed to doing, means seeking out new and more diverse voices and having a greater appetite for risk in bringing new voices to debates. At heart it is no more complicated than that. For the status quo to really change however, holding a large event with no women speakers will need to start being seen as a reputational risk.

The other question, of course, is whether this is a problem of women not being asked or not being able to participate. It is not always as easy for women to drop domestic duties for an after-work TV appearance or overseas conference, so many women who would like to take part find themselves having to say no. As long as women have primary responsibility for care, particularly childcare, this is unlikely to change.

Some may ask why we should stop at all-male panels. Why not challenge the appalling absence of ethnic and class diversity on panels and in public life, when last year’s census data showed the proportion of the population that is white has now fallen to 86 per cent? The answer is that we should. This can open up closed networks and enrich our politics, which is exactly what we need if we are to engage more people in the public debates they feel so alienated from. If this is tokenism, I’m all for it.

Just 17 per cent of delegates and only a quarter of panel speakers at Davos were women. Photograph: Getty Images.

Clare McNeil is a senior research fellow at IPPR.

Twitter: @claremcneil1

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The view from Google Earth is magnificent - but there's a problem

Google Earth is spectacular - but it can give a misleading impression of the planet and the threats we face from climate change. 

 

Google Earth wants you to “get lost” in its updated interactive map. Collaborations with new media partners mean you can now climb Mount Everest, swim with sharks or visit Afghanistan with Zari the purple muppet. No, really:


Source: Google Earth

Yet as Trump slashes support for the science behind satellite imaging, is Google’s emphasis on spectacle leading us down the wrong path?

Google Earth's new look all starts well enough. Opening the new site on your browser takes you to an image of a blue earth floating through the blackness of space. Back in the 1970s, similar images taken from the Apollo space missions helped kickstart the modern environmental movement. As the astronomer Sir Fred Hoyle put it: “Once a photograph of the Earth, taken from the outside, is available, a new idea as powerful as any in history will be let loose.”


Source: GETTY and Google Earth

And it gets better. Enter a destination in the search bar and you are greeted with the option to link directly out to the Wikipedia page: nerds of the world, rejoice! 

A guided tour from NASAearth is also on hand for anyone whose nerdery is in need of a prompt: “Geostationary satellites in geosynchronous orbits. Greenhouse gases and global warming. Glaciers... going, going, gone,” says the Bob Dylan-esque entry on its "ABCs from Space".

You can then choose to orbit your landmark of choice in 3D. And let’s face it - who doesn’t want to glide around the top of Mont Blanc, pretending to be an eagle? It’s almost as good as the BBC’s actual eagle-cam

But then it hits you. This is no soaring eagle, buffeted by wind currents and having to constantly adjust its flightpath in the face of real-world obstacles. This is a world surveyed at a safe and sanitising distance. Tourism for the Trump age – focused on providing “a consumption experience”. Certainly it is the opposite of “getting lost”.

In fact if anything has been lost or downplayed, it is the principles of scientific enquiry. The program is littered with human choices. Local versions of Google Maps, for instance, have shown different national borders depending on where in the world you log in. And while new, open-data imagery from America's Landsat 8 program is helping bring many regions up to date, other high-resolution imagery comes from commercial providers, such as Digital Globe. And as this Google 'help' page implies, there are issues of time-lag to face. 

You can’t even be sure what you’re looking at still exists. In 2015, Bolivia’s second largest lake vanished - a combination of climate change, El Nino, and irrigation withdrawal caused 2,700 square kilometres of water to evaporate into a dry salt pan. (It has not recovered, and seems unlikely to do so.) Yet on the new version of Google Earth the lake is still a healthy green:


Source: GoogleEarth

The much lauded film clips from the BBC’s Planet Earth II are similarly short on context. As I've argued before, David Attenborough's latest TV series did little to explain the stories behind the spectacle – there was no mention, for instance, of the arctic anthrax outbreak which caused thousands of reindeer to be culled, nor the role of climate change in worsening locust swarms. 

Finally, the new update actually shows you less of the world than it did before. Gone is the “Historical Imagery” tool that allowed you to see how a place had changed through time. Now, the Citadel of Aleppo in Syria is only visible as a bombed-out ruin. A surreal street-view reveals two women cheerily taking a selfie – with debris all around and their legs spliced out of shot:


Source: GoogleEarth

So why do these omissions matter? Because they take users further away from the evidence-based approach of earth science. It turns out that satellite images on their own are of limited use when it comes to quantifying change. Instead researchers must turn the raw pixels into numbers, which can then variously represent everything from forests to cities, glaciers and farms.

As Dr France Gerard at the UK’s Centre for Hydrology and Ecology explains, this process enables us to live in a better managed environment – be that by measuring air pollution or the impact of fertiliser on soil. The centre's landcover map, for instance, has been mapping British land use since 1990. Similar methods allow Sam Lavender’s company to provide Ugandans with a Drought and Flood Mitigation service, as part of the UK Space Agency’s International Partnership Programme.

Sadly, the need for public engagement has never been more urgent. Brexit and austerity have cast doubt over important projects in the UK. While in Donald Trump’s America, funds for earth monitoring are set to be slashed. Two missions already under the knife are PACE, a spacecraft set to track global ocean health, and CLARREO, which would have produced highly accurate climate records. Trump has also called for the earth-viewing instruments on the DSCOVR satellite to be turned off. Phil Larson, a former space advisor to President Obama, describes this decision as “baffling”.

So what can be done to reverse this trend? Experts I spoke to believe that collaboration is key. With government programs being squeezed, the earth monitoring industry may come to rely increasingly on the trend towards smaller, commercial satellites. These are great for increasing the quantity of data available but their accuracy needs to be constantly checked against the data from the larger and more reliable state-launched equipment.

There’s also still more data out there to share. As Bronwyn Agrios from Astro Digital points out, many countries have been gathering region-specific data – which could, in future, be made open source. “The neat thing about space is that there’s no border,” she concludes.

To help this process, Google Earth could do far more to raise public awareness of the science behind its special effects. Yet at least in one way it is already on the right path: its own new range of collaborations is impressively large. As well as the BBC, you can take interactive tours with The Ocean Agency, the Wildscreen Arkive, and the Jane Goodall Institute – all of whom put conservation up front. The Goodall journey to Tanzania’s Gombe National Park even describes the use of satellite imagery to measure conservation success.

 

More links with other citizen science projects around the world could turn the program into something truly ground-breaking. If it can incorporate these, then desktop-tourism may yet save the planet from Trump. 

India Bourke is an environment writer and editorial assistant at the New Statesman.

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