Systemic inequalities for LGBTQ professionals in STEM – Science Advances
INTRODUCTION
The diversification of science, technology, engineering, and math (STEM) fields has lagged behind that of other previously white male-dominated professions in postindustrial societies like the United States (1, 2). The underrepresentation and mistreatment of historically marginalized and minoritized populations in STEM not only are problematic for basic equity concerns of access and opportunity (1–3) but also are harmful to STEM innovation: More diverse groups of problem solvers offer more creative, productive, and fact-based scientific and technical innovations than more homogeneous teams (4–9).
Social science research over the past three decades has made great strides in documenting the persistent and multifaceted disadvantages faced by women and people of color in STEM and the various interactional-, organizational-, and institutional-level processes that produce those disadvantages (3, 10–13). Yet other sociodemographic differences, which may also be axes of marked inequality, demand further investigation. Despite mounting interest in the experiences of persons who identify as lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and/or queer (LGBTQ) among academic, industry, and policy communities (14, 15), to date, sampling and analytic limitations have prevented direct investigation of possible LGBTQ status inequalities in STEM. Much more research is needed to document potential workplace inequalities for LGBTQ persons in STEM fields.
Although LGBTQ rights have expanded over the past 20 years, LGBTQ-identifying workers in the U.S. labor force face a multitude of biases (16–19). Even in the presence of formal employment protections like those extended by the recent U.S. Supreme Court ruling (20), LGBTQ workers are more likely than their non-LGBTQ colleagues to experience hiring and wage discrimination and negative treatment by co-workers and supervisors (16, 19, 21–24). In addition, over half of Americans still harbor some level of prejudice toward nonheterosexual, transgender, and gender nonbinary persons, and those prejudices often translate into overtly or subtly biased treatment of LGBTQ colleagues (25, 26).
While emerging workforce-wide research has demonstrated the existence of disadvantages for LGBTQ persons in the labor force generally, it cannot directly speak to whether and how LGBTQ inequality manifests within specific professional contexts. Professions, including STEM fields, have their own shared and semiautonomous cultural norms of interaction and ways of defining professional competence (27, 28). STEM fields are highly specialized professional arenas that demand lengthy training and work devotion (10). STEM fields strive for objective evaluation of merit and excellence, where a professional’s credibility and contributions to scientific and technological advancement are presumed to be rooted in their STEM-based competence, not their social identities (27, 29–31). The question of whether LGBTQ professionals encounter systemic disadvantages in STEM is thus important not only for more fully mapping the landscape of demographic inequality in STEM but for identifying places where STEM fails to live up to its meritocratic ideals.
Despite the presumed objectivity and universality of STEM, there is reason to suspect that LGBTQ STEM professionals may face persistent disadvantages compared to their non-LGBTQ counterparts (22, 23, 25, 32). Research on LGBTQ-identifying university faculty, for example, found that LGBTQ faculty in STEM departments were more likely to report harassment and social isolation than those in other departments (33, 34). Also, a study of federal employees found that LGBTQ workers in STEM-related agencies (e.g., NASA and EPA) had more negative workplace experiences than LGBTQ workers in non-STEM–related agencies (22). Moreover, research on STEM education has revealed patterns of exclusion experienced by LGBTQ students that may be mirrored in the STEM workforce (35–37).
Early interview- and ethnography-based qualitative studies and snowball sample-based surveys suggest that cultural norms and practices in STEM may help facilitate anti-LGBTQ bias (33, 34, 36, 38). For example, STEM professional cultures often promote “depoliticization” or the bracketing of concerns perceived as social or political (like diversity and inclusion issues) from day-to-day STEM work (31, 39). Discussion of LGBTQ inequality issues—or even the mere presence of openly LGBTQ-identifying persons—may be perceived in STEM contexts as violating depoliticization and threatening the objectivity of STEM (36, 40). In addition, STEM professional cultural norms are often structured around dichotomous, binary thinking (39), which may amplify heteronormativity (cultural beliefs that there are just two binary sexes, and only sexual attraction between people of those two sexes is “natural”) and cisnormativity (marginalizing beliefs about persons with transgender or gender nonbinary identities in favor of cisgender individuals, those who identify with their assigned birth sex) in STEM contexts (41, 42). Individuals who do not fit neatly into traditional gender or sexual identity categories, especially gender nonbinary, bisexual, and queer persons, may be especially likely to experience exclusion or ridicule in STEM.
These and other cultural norms may foster disadvantageous contexts for LGBTQ-identifying professionals in STEM. Anti-LGBTQ bias may not only affect LGBTQ STEM professionals socially—undermining their day-to-day integration into the social fabric of their workplaces—but may also harm them professionally, limiting their access to career opportunities and undermining their colleagues’ assessments of their abilities as scientists and engineers. These negative experiences may, in turn, have deleterious effects on the personal well-being of LGBTQ workers and even encourage them to consider leaving STEM altogether.
Although STEM leaders and professional societies have expressed strong interest in understanding possible LGBTQ inequality in STEM (14, 15), empirical limitations have thus far prevented robust investigations into these processes. The present study uses unique large-scale, national-level survey data to provide a multidimensional examination of possible professional, social, and personal disadvantages faced by LGBTQ-identifying professionals in STEM. The survey data include sufficiently large and directly comparable samples of LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ professionals and multifaceted measures of inequality that allow for identification of a range of differential experiences across LGBTQ status while accounting for potentially confounding demographic, employment, and job-related factors.
Our sample includes more than 25,000 full-time employed STEM professionals, over a thousand of whom identify as LGBTQ. This dataset, part of the STEM Inclusion Study (Principal Investigators: E.A.C. and T.J.W.), is composed of representative samples of the United States–based membership of 21 STEM-related professional societies, including 8 national flagship disciplinary societies in the natural, life, and physical sciences and mathematics; 5 national flagship disciplinary societies in engineering; 6 interdisciplinary organizations; and 2 STEM teaching-focused societies. The survey includes multiple sets of existing and novel validated questions about respondents’ work experiences.
We examine potential inequalities by LGBTQ status along five dimensions: (i) career opportunities, (ii) professional devaluation, (iii) social exclusion, (iv) health and wellness difficulties, and (v) intentions to leave STEM. These dimensions, which may be interrelated and mutually reinforcing, shed light on workers’ professional and social experiences in their STEM jobs and the personal toll these inequalities may take. They also reveal how LGBTQ status disadvantages may be problematic for STEM in general by helping to shunt experienced professionals out of STEM.
We begin by comparing LGBTQ professionals’ career opportunities and resources to those reported by their non-LGBTQ peers. Consistent with formal and informal anti-LGBTQ bias documented in the U.S. workforce overall (16–19, 21–23), and the anti-LGBTQ bias suggested by previous research on the professional culture of STEM (32–34, 36), we expect that LGBTQ STEM professionals will report fewer opportunities for advancing their careers than their non-LGBTQ peers and less access to the resources (e.g., equipment, administrative support, and managerial guidance) they need to succeed in their jobs. They may also report less comfort with “whistleblowing,” or disclosing a suspected violation of a law or rule, without fear of reprisal. Such fears of whistleblowing would be consequential not only for their own careers but also for the safety and welfare of the public more generally (43).
H1: LGBTQ STEM professionals are less likely than their non-LGBTQ peers to have adequate career resources and opportunities for career advancement and are less likely to feel comfortable whistleblowing (controlling for demographic, STEM discipline, employment sector, and job-related factors).
Consistent with exploratory qualitative research suggesting the devaluation and underestimation of LGBTQ-identifying professionals’ contributions to STEM work (36, 38, 39), we also expect that LGBTQ respondents will be more likely than their non-LGBTQ peers to report that their STEM expertise has been questioned by their colleagues:
H2: LGBTQ respondents are more likely to have experienced devaluation of their professional expertise than their non-LGBTQ peers (controlling for other factors).
In line with research noted above on LGBTQ employees’ workplace experiences inside and outside of STEM contexts and literature on cultural norms in STEM (16–19, 21–23, 31–37, 39, 44), we expect that LGBTQ STEM professionals will experience greater social marginalization and more harassment than their non-LGBTQ counterparts:
H3: LGBTQ STEM professionals are more likely than their non-LGBTQ peers to report social exclusion by their workplace colleagues and more likely to have experienced harassment at work (controlling for other factors).
Such exclusion not only is harmful for workers on a personal level but also limits their access to the informal career opportunities and professional mentoring conferred through workplace collegiality during and outside of work (45, 46).
Fourth, partly because of their greater likelihood of encountering negative workplace treatment, we suspect that LGBTQ STEM professionals will experience health and wellness difficulties more frequently than non-LGBTQ STEM professionals, including minor health problems (e.g., headaches and stomach upset), insomnia, stress, and depressive symptoms. Experiences of bias, even when subtle, can foster health problems for disadvantaged populations (47, 48). In addition to testing for LGBTQ status differentials in these health and wellness outcomes, we use mediation analysis to test whether such differences are partly attributable to LGBTQ professionals’ greater exposure to the marginalization, devaluation, and career limitations noted in H1 to H3 above:
H4: LGBTQ STEM professionals experience health and wellness difficulties more frequently than their non-LGBTQ peers (controlling for other factors), and these differences are partly mediated by LGBTQ respondents’ greater likelihood of encountering career limitations, professional devaluation, and social exclusion.
Significant mediation effects would indicate that differential treatment in STEM work gets “under the skin” of LGBTQ-identifying STEM professionals to affect them not only in professional but also in deeply personal ways (37).
Fifth, past research has found that members of marginalized and minoritized groups are more likely to consider leaving STEM than dominant groups and are more likely to actually depart (49). Recent studies of U.S. college students found that LGBTQ-identifying science and engineering students had stronger intentions to leave engineering than their non-LGBTQ classmates (35–37). Accordingly, we hypothesize that LGBTQ STEM professionals will be more likely to consider leaving their current STEM jobs than their non-LGBTQ peers and will be more likely to plan to leave their STEM fields entirely in the future. Intentions to leave, while not exact predictors, are highly correlated with workers’ actual attrition behaviors (50). In addition, we expect that these differences in intentions to leave by LGBTQ status will be partly attributable to LGBTQ STEM professionals’ greater exposure to the professional devaluation, marginalization, and career limitations represented in H1 to H3 above.
H5: LGBTQ STEM professionals are more likely than their non-LGBTQ peers to plan to leave their current STEM jobs and to intend to leave STEM entirely (controlling for other factors), and these differences are partly mediated by LGBTQ respondents’ greater likelihood of encountering career limitations, professional devaluation, and social exclusion.
Last, we test two alternative explanations: one rooted in the possibility that these disadvantages are driven by key supply-side differences (that LGBTQ workers are less educated, less experienced, less hardworking, and/or less dedicated than their colleagues) that are unrelated to their co-workers’ and supervisors’ treatment of them, and another that LGBTQ workers are more likely than their colleagues to have uniformly more negative assessments of their workplaces that are unrelated to anti-LGBTQ bias. We also assess possible intersectional patterns in these results, examining how differences by LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ status are interwoven with other personal and demographic characteristics (gender identity, race/ethnicity, and age), taking into account the effects of belonging to multiple marginalized groups simultaneously (51, 52). We, then examine whether these LGBTQ status patterns vary by STEM subfield and employment sector.
RESULTS
Figures 1 to 6 compare LGBTQ STEM workers to their non-LGBTQ peers on the outcomes introduced above, controlling for variation by subfield, employment sector, job characteristics, and demographic differences (age, gender, race/ethnicity, and parental education). In these figures, the height of the bars represents the means for LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ STEM professionals, holding constant variation by other factors, and the asterisks indicate the two-tailed significance of the difference between LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ employees from multivariate regression models predicting each outcome with controls (see table S2 for regression models). Error bars in Figs. 1 to 6 represent 95% confidence intervals (CIs = 1.96 × SE).
Predicted means for each category, holding constant variation by demographics, employment and job characteristics, and professional society. Scale ranges from 1 (strongly disagree) to 5 (strongly agree), with higher number representing stronger agreement. Error bars represent 95% CIs. N = 25,324.
Career opportunities and resources
Figure 1 summarizes results testing the hypothesis that LGBTQ STEM professionals enjoy fewer career opportunities than their otherwise similar non-LGBTQ peers (H1). As shown by both the difference in means (indicated by the height of the bars and nonoverlapping CIs) and the significance levels of the difference between LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ professionals holding constant variation by other demographic, discipline, and job-related factors (indicated by asterisks), LGBTQ STEM professionals were significantly less likely to report they had opportunities to develop their skills than their non-LGBTQ peers and were less likely to report that they had access to the resources they needed to do their jobs well. LGBTQ STEM professionals were also less likely than their non-LGBTQ peers to be confident that they could whistleblow without fear of retaliation. See table S2 for multivariate regression models for each outcome.
Professional devaluation
A second possible dimension of LGBTQ disadvantage is the likelihood that respondents report that their colleagues devalued or discounted their STEM expertise (H2). The professional devaluation scale captures, for example, whether respondents reported being treated as less skilled professionals than their colleagues and whether they were held to higher standards of productivity (see scale measure operationalization below). As Fig. 2 indicates, LGBTQ respondents were significantly more likely to experience professional devaluation than their non-LGBTQ peers who were otherwise similar along demographic, work experience, education level, subfield, and employment sector characteristics. (See table S2 for multivariate models.) Represented another way, LGBTQ professionals were 20.2% more likely than their non-LGBTQ peers to agree that they had experienced at least one of the five facets of devaluation measured in the professional devaluation scale.
Social exclusion
A third potential dimension of LGBTQ inequality is social marginalization (H3). Again, compared to their non-LGBTQ peers, LGBTQ professionals were significantly more likely to experience exclusion by their colleagues (e.g., to not feel like they “fit in,” to be excluded from invitations to after-work social gatherings). See Fig. 3 and measure operationalization below. A third (32.9%) of LGBTQ STEM professionals experienced one or more of these types of social exclusion, compared to less than a quarter (22.7%) of their non-LGBTQ peers. LGBTQ STEM professionals were also about 30% more likely than their non-LGBTQ peers to have experienced harassment at work in the past year (Fig. 4). See table S2 for multivariate models.
Health and wellness difficulties
A fourth dimension of inequality we considered is whether the frequency of experiencing health and wellness difficulties differed by LGBTQ status. Figure 5 presents the average responses on several health and wellness measures for LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ respondents. Controlling for variation by demographic and job-related factors, LGBTQ STEM professionals experienced minor health problems, insomnia, stress, and depressive symptoms more frequently in the past year than their peers (supporting H4). Compared to their non-LGBTQ counterparts, LGBTQ persons were 27% more likely to have experienced minor health problems at least some of the time in the past year, 41% more likely to have experienced insomnia, 22% more likely to have felt nervous or stressed from work, and 30% more likely to have experienced one or more depressive symptoms in the past year.
Mediation analysis with structural equation modeling (SEM) found significant indirect effects of LGBTQ status on these health difficulties through the career limitations, professional devaluation, and social marginalization measures discussed above. (See table S2 for regression models and table S3 for focal direct and indirect coefficients from the SEMs.) These significant indirect effects suggest that LGBTQ STEM professionals’ greater likelihood of experiencing career limitations, devaluation, and marginalization at work helps account for why they experience these health and wellness difficulties more frequently than their peers.
Intentions to leave
Fifth, we examined whether there were differences in respondents’ intentions to leave STEM by LGBTQ status. As hypothesized (H5), LGBTQ STEM professionals thought about leaving their job more frequently and were more likely to have considered leaving their STEM field entirely, compared to their non-LGBTQ peers (controlling for other factors). See Fig. 6. Represented more concretely, 22% of LGBTQ professionals, versus 15% of their non-LGBTQ peers, had thought about leaving their STEM job at least once in the last month, and 12% of LGBTQ respondents (versus 8% of non-LGBTQ respondents) planned to leave their STEM profession within the next 5 years. As with the health outcomes, mediation analysis showed that LGBTQ professionals’ experience with career limitations, devaluation, and marginalization helps account for why they had higher intentions to leave than their non-LGBTQ peers. (See table S2 for regression models and table S4 for SEM coefficient estimates.)
Intersectional patterns and variation by subfield and sector
Table S5 presents supplemental analyses examining the extent to which these patterns of LGBTQ disadvantage vary intersectionally by other demographic factors (gender identity, race/ethnicity, and age) and whether they vary systematically by STEM subfield or employment sector (51, 52). Consistent with literature on the particular challenges they face in the workforce (19), transgender and gender nonbinary respondents reported experiencing minor health problems, stress, and depressive symptoms more frequently than their cisgender sexual minority peers and non-LGBTQ respondents and were more likely to have considered leaving their STEM jobs. Other disadvantages were amplified for LGBTQ professionals of color and LGBTQ-identifying women: LGBTQ-identifying women and racial/ethnic minorities were more likely than white and men LGBTQ STEM professionals, respectively, to experience professional devaluation and harassment at work. These intersectional patterns are echoed in the LGBTQ-only models in table S7. Overall, however, we find that the dimensions of disadvantage documented above were present for persons across specific identities within the LGBTQ umbrella and among LGBTQ persons across other axes of demographic variation (e.g., age and race). In addition, the interaction analyses in table S7 show little variation in the LGBTQ status disadvantages by specific STEM disciplines or employment sectors. This suggests that these LGBTQ disadvantages are not isolated to certain STEM fields or to certain employment sectors but may be operating across the U.S. STEM workforce.
Alternative explanations
Last, we address two possible alternative explanations for the results represented in the figures above. One potential alternative explanation is that these patterns are driven by benign supply-side differences between LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ professionals’ average education level, dedication, and/or work ethic. To test this explanation, we compared LGBTQ STEM professionals’ highest degree, hours worked, work dedication, and likelihood of having a “core technical” primary job responsibility (basic research, design, or computer programming) to that of their non-LGBTQ peers, holding constant their subfield, employment sector, employer size, and other demographic characteristics. Results from these analyses refute this supply-side explanation: Compared to their non-LGBTQ peers, LGBTQ STEM professionals were equally highly educated and just as likely to have core technical primary job responsibilities. They worked just as many hours, on average, as non-LGBTQ professionals and were just as personally committed to their work. (See table S8.)
A second possible alternative explanation is that LGBTQ professionals have uniformly more negative views of their jobs that are unrelated to LGBTQ-specific mistreatment. To test this, we reran all models with a control for respondents’ job satisfaction. The LGBTQ differences documented above were generally robust to this control for job satisfaction, although job satisfaction is strongly negatively correlated with the devaluation and marginalization measures tested in the models and thus reduces the predictive power of LGBTQ status in those models. (See table S9.) These analyses offer counterevidence to contentions that the outcomes above are the result of LGBTQ workers’ weaker qualifications or work commitment or their propensity to have more negative assessments of their jobs overall.