The commemorative speech for the Yamazaki Award

The commemorative speech for the Yamazaki Award マリー・キュリーと放射能
Keiko Kawashima, Associate Professor, Nagoya Institute of Technology ©2012 Keiko Kawashima / Emi Higashiura

It is my pleasure to receive such a prestigious award today.

Recently, I saw a list of this ceremony’s a

ward recipients and was pleasantly surprised that its first name on the list was that of Professor Yoichiro Murakami (1973, then Associate Professor of the University of Tokyo). I am also really delighted that a teacher and his pupil have been honoured with the same award.

I am happy for another reason. As Dr. Min Wang (Professor of Hosei University) said earlier, ‘Twenty-eight years ago, when I came to Japan, gender roles here were very rigid’. I was a student at that time, and, Professor Murakami was such a blessing for not only the field of gender studies, but also for female researchers and students. Thus, I am quite impressed that the first award is to honour the invaluable contribution of such a person, who has been supporting female researchers.

About 25 years ago, when I was a doctoral student (the Graduate School of the University of Tokyo), female students were placed in a very complicated situation. Let me offer you an example now.

At that time, the graduate school had a female secretary who had been hired as a non-regular employee and whose salary came from the research budget of the university. And there was a room for professors, students and secretaries to chat.

We students were talking with the professors, and I do not remember what opened up the conversation, but?a male master’s student told us that he wanted to ask a woman he liked out to a movie, but he did not know how to ask her. It would not be a problem if she said yes, but he wondered how he could judge what she was thinking if she was ambivalent about going out with him.

In the room were Professor Murakami and a male professor, and the male professor said, ‘Sometimes people say they hate what they really love. In short, when she says no, she means yes. So, push’. I refuted his argument, saying, ‘If she says yes, it is OK, but if she shows hesitation, you’d better not pursue her, because the harder you push, the more she will dislike you’.

The women who the male professor had been dating and the woman who the master’s student wanted to ask out on a date were from different generations, and as for opportunities to understand the real intentions of young women, I think I, a 25-year-old at that time, listened more to women’s real intentions than the professor did. But the professor insisted, ‘Do not believe her when she says no’, and encouraged him to push her. I said, ‘Absolutely not. If it goes well, that is OK, but if her attitude is ambiguous, you should forget about her. Cause I had been listening more voice of women, I believe in understanding the real intentions of women’. The male professor remained persistent, so the argument reached an impasse. Then, Professor Murakami, who had been quietly listening to the argument, made a wonderful interjection.

Professor Murakami said, ‘listening to such a conversation reminds me of a passage from Cyrano de Bergerac: “I would rather keep silence than see the light of aversion in her eyes”’. There was complete silence in the room. The secretary signalled her agreement with my opinion with her eyes.

Since there were few women working in those offices at that time, women in such positions would often to be asked on dates by the male students. The secretary wanted other people to understand that it was hard for her to say no, because she was in a weak position as a non-regular employee, and because she would see the man who had asked her out every day. She would be scared to go to work if people thought that when she says no, she means yes.

From her standpoint, while she had been thinking that it would become much easier to work if men would quietly withdraw their invitations when she showed hesitation, she was disturbed that the professor had expressed such a contradictory opinion. Yet she was not in a position to clearly say, ‘What Ms Kawashima said is right’.

Since Professor Murakami had quoted from Cyrano de Bergerac instead of sharing his thoughts on the attitudes of women or men, the male professor finally fell silent. It seemed like the game was over.

The reason why I shared this memory is because I wanted to point out why the male professor could confidently say, ‘When she says no, she means yes’. This professor was in his 50s, and I was 25 and a student, so there was already a conflict related to the difference in our positions. However, this was not a story about a professor who lost his face because a student crossed him. I thought of this conflict as a gender problem. It was a conflict between the strong and weak members of society, between the majority and the minority. I knew then by my intuition that it was, most probably, a sort of conflict in which side holds the right to decide and/or to define. Concretely speaking, it was a problem regarding “who holds the right to decide the features of the weak, such as women and children”.

‘Sometimes people say they hate what they really love’ is not a statement that a woman says to another woman; it is one that a man says to a woman. I don’t think that this male professor would have ever said to me or to the female secretary, ‘You women can define men’, but it was fine for him, a man, to define women. Men have the right to define women. And men also have the right to define men. That’s how it is. It is almost like saying to a woman, ‘You do not have the right to make decisions for yourselves’. Is it fair to allow such things? I, then a young woman, wondered who had the right to define a person.

Let’s think about a child in elementary school. What kind of child is he or she? There are various images of the child: the image which his/her parents have, the image which his or her teacher has, and each image that his/her grandfather, grandmother, brothers and/or sisters, close friends, classmates and neighbours has of the child. As for which one is the true image, each image could be true in its own way. Yet, it will be a big problem if the child must embody one of these images and does not have the right to decide what kind of person he/she is. It would be tragic if the child had to agree that only the teacher’s viewpoint was right, or only the parents’ perceived was right. The child has his/her own image: ‘I am this kind of person; my true desire is this’. When the child is having fun, how would he/she feel if someone said, ‘No, you are not having fun’? This metaphor would be easy to understand to anybody.

The problem that women face is the same. ‘When she says no, she means yes’ cannot be correct. If this is a universal truth, then we would not be allowed to say ‘I like you’ to the people we value. When the male professor was young, there might have been a social stigma about women openly expressing their real intentions, and in this case, during that era, there might have been a bit of truth in what he said. However, about 25 years ago, the situation had already changed. Now, in 2010, if a man pursues a woman who says ‘no’, he is a stalker.

It is very frightening if the weaker members of society, such as women and children, lose a say in what happens to them. As for the identity of a child, which I mentioned before, there is no problem in considering the different evaluations of various people, but it would be a horrifying situation if a particular evaluation was forced upon that child. For example, it would be scary if what the parents said was not objective, if the child could not trust his/her friends or neighbours, and, of course, if the child’s word was not taken and only what his/her teacher said was right. Giving someone the absolute authority to define someone else is a terrifying proposition. But 25 years ago, this was the reality of women’s daily lives.

When I began studying the history of science, the methodology which was regarded as objective at that time, was, in fact, I could say that very biased. The methodology posed considerable difficulties when we took any female scientist as a research object.

In other words, there was a commonly-accepted myth that men could define women.

In contrast, there were the indifferent, neutral and objective images of which science is known for. Nevertheless, when either a man or a woman thought of a scientist, he or she would picture a man. If a parson is said that “you are so scientific”, the people would image some masculinity, no way to think that the words mean “you are so feminine”. The term ‘scientific’ was just not thought of as a feminine attribute. At first glance, the face of science is androgynous, but in reality, it was treated as a masculine study. Therefore, female scientists were “strange” creatures.

They were considered to be performing looks-like-neutral but manly work, although what they were doing was actually not gender-related, and socially, they did not have the right to define themselves.

My studies focused on female scientists. I wanted to place the individual at the centre of my study. In other words, I wanted to reveal what women felt and what kinds of situations they had been placed in during their particular eras. That is nothing unusual, but as a methodology for studying the history of science in Japan, it was unusual at that time.

In eighteenth-century France, there was a female “scientist” named Emilie du Chatelet (1705-1749). I suspect few people have heard of the achievements of this person in Japan. In France, even 25 years ago, she was known more or less, but she was not famous.

In fact, what she was best known for was her relationships with three men.

You are probably all familiar with Voltaire (1694-1778), Isaac Newton (1642-1727) and Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716).

Emilie du Chatelet was the lover of Voltaire, the foremost thinker of eighteenth-century France. In his biography, she is mentioned as his first lover, who lived with him for 14 years. She was also the person who translated Newton’s masterpiece, Principia, from Latin to French. Although at least two translations of Principia exist in Japan, du Chatelet’s work is still the only translation of the book in France.

As for her relationship with Leibniz, du Chatelet also wrote a book titled Institutions de physique, and it is said to be the first French book that introduced the philosophy of Leibniz. Thus, Leibniz’s biography contains a few lines about du Chatelet. She was also briefly mentioned in stories about the introduction of Newtonian science.

Research papers have also been written about du Chatelet, and they always mention only how she helped to disseminate Newton or Leibniz. Almost no one has focused on what her work meant to her. If she wrote science books, she must have had her own motivation. However, such a story has hardly been told in past research.

Even though I tried to make her the subject of my research, various obstacles were presented by the historical materials themselves, as if this research was the equivalent of the aforementioned ‘no means yes’ story. The primary sources, written during du Chatelet’s lifetime, had mostly been written by men. The stories that were written were those which were convenient for men; there were no descriptions of her which were not convenient for them. Even among the secondary sources?the research papers written during subsequent generations?there were few which presented du Chatelet as the main character.

From my perspective, even though I wanted to cast this woman as the main character, there were so many voices saying that the main characters in history were men. Thus, it was very difficult for me to study Emilie du Chatelet as an individual. I searched various materials in my struggle to replace the man playing the central role with the woman.

This leads us to the content of my research. Among the three previously mentioned men, who are famous in the history of science, Voltaire, du Chatelet’s lover, was a contemporary of hers, however, both Newton and Leibniz preceded her. Besides, the thoughts of these latter two opposed each other. If she decided to adopt both of these scientific approaches, which were in conflict, but both enlightened people, it was her own standpoint.

Voltaire adored Newton, but du Chatelet did not like hero worship. Since she had taken a different standpoint and had maintained her own view, it must have meant something to her. So, what did it mean to her?

With du Chatelet as the main character, these men should play supporting roles. I had made my best effort to consider what kind of characters should occupy these supporting roles. Again, the distinctive feature of her biographies and the research papers about her was that when it came to the actual stories about science, most documents focused on how she had helped men. Thus, she had only been written about as a secondary character.

However, putting science aside, a great deal was known about her. She had a free-spirited romantic record. At the age of 19, she was arranged by her parents to marry le Marquis du Chatelet; hence, she became a marquise, and although she was a married woman, she lived with Voltaire for 14 years and had various other lovers during those years. In the books that discussed such topics in detail, there were few descriptions of her passion for science.

Her last affair occurred when she was 42 years old, and she fell in love with a man who was 10 years younger than her. She had a dramatic life; she lived with Voltaire even though she had a husband, and later, after taking a younger lover, she became pregnant and delivered a child, an event which caused her death. Furthermore, these three males were with her when she died. Male researchers of subsequent generations have discussed her last relationship with a great deal of prejudice. They describe du Chatelet as if she were a sex addict. However, this has always been a typical reaction of men to middle-aged to elderly women who have fallen in love. However, have the same men called Goethe, who loved an 18-year-old girl when he was 80 years old, a sex addict? Is there any historian who claims that Louis XIV or Louis XV was crazy for having many lovers? Under such circumstances, with much trouble, I managed to write my Master’s thesis.

This beautiful and intelligent wife had faithfully waited on her husband and cooperated in his research. It is a story about a dream come true, and such a story has garnered the devoted wife praise, through the use of the word ‘dedication’.

So many books have lavished praise on her, but the literature does not reveal precisely what she her contribution was to the research.

Both the Lavoisiers were born into the bourgeoisie. While Antoine Lavoisier was a university graduate, Marie-Anne Lavoisier, who married at the age of 13, obviously did not receive much formal education. This was a normal situation for girls at that time, even girls from very wealthy families. After her mother died in 1761, she was educated in a women’s monastery, and then, just after she left the monastery, her father decided to arrange her marriage.

When the 13-year-old wife was asked, ‘Would you be my research partner?’ by her husband, who was a bright scholar and 14 years elder to her, it was impossible for her to say “No.” Also, if she was really interested in chemistry, during an experiment, could she say to her husband, ‘The data seem strange; I would propose a different theory from yours’? That is the point. Of course Marie-Anne was completely dedicated to helping her husband. However, does every wife always willingly assist in her husband’s work if he is a person of merit? I do not think so.

I wondered what the truth was, so I searched various materials. Society has been experiencing change since then. In the past, there were many people who, like the male professor I mentioned earlier, would suddenly have a brain freeze on the topic of gender roles, despite being rational people on other topics. But today, we live in a society which gives the Yamazaki Award to a researcher like me. Not only me, but researchers all over the world have started to think that gender problems should be considered from a broad perspective. Let me provide two examples.

In 2006, an exhibition titled ‘Madame du
Chatelet, La femme des Lumieres’ was held in the
national library (Bibliotheque Nationale) in Paris,
and Madame du Chatelet entered the limelight.

This was an exhibition that put the woman,
whose memory had thus far been confined to a
supporting player, or who was considered the cherry
of the sundae for Voltaire, Newton and Leibniz, as
the main character. The front cover of the exhibition
catalogue spoke for itself. Her figure was drawn
largely, and the famous Voltaire and her algebra
teacher Maupertuis were compactly drawn on the
left side. Thus, she was the sundae and these two
men were the cherries.

To get back to what I was saying, an exhibition catalogue is generally published one time only, but this exhibition issued a second edition. This signifies the great success of the exhibition. This is noteworthy because French women may look gorgeous and glamorous on the outside, but French society can be hugely discriminatory against women. Therefore, it was also meaningful that the exhibition was held in France, and not in the US. I was full of emotion as I realized that finally du Chatelet was on equal footing with Voltaire, Newton, Leibniz and Maupertuis. Moreover, men and women researchers from different parts of the world, not only from France but also from the US and Japan, were contributing to the writing of the pamphlet. So, I think it was a memorable exhibition that formed community solidarity.

My second example is the New Dictionary of Scientific Biography which was published in 2008 by Thomson & Gale of the US. For the dictionary, I wrote an item on Mrs Lavoisier.

The old version also exists. I think Toyama University has it. But the old version did not contain information on Mme Lavoisier. The dictionary devoted dozens of pages to famous scientists such as Newton, whereas non-famous people only received a few lines or were omitted from the book. The publishers decided that the new version would not devote so much volume to famous person and would consider minorities, such as Asians and black people. Accordingly, they gave significance to Japanese scientists as well.

As for Mme Lavoisier, it would seem easiest for us to locate the corresponding page by searching for the letter L in the index, but there is a rule that the index should be compiled according to each scientist’s signature; thus, she was categorized as Paulze-Lavoisier.

I have been studying Mme Lavoisier for about 20 years, and I realize that the situation has changed remarkably.

To know what a person thinks, we should ask that person. Things have changed since the era when one would just ask the so-called authority about that person in order to complete one’s research. Now, we live in an era where we directly ask the person about him/herself. I agree with the modern approach; it promotes respect for fundamental human rights. Since I have witness such a way of thinking in both scholarship and society, I am full of deep emotion.

Now, I would like to discuss one more person:
Marie Curie (1867-1935). The book that I circulated,
Marie Curie no Chosen, Kagaku, Gender, Sensoh
(Marie Curie’s Challenge ? Science, Gender, War)
(Transview Publishing, 2010), I wrote for high school
students and above.

The two previously mentioned women, since
they did not receive world-renowned fame, were let
down by being remembered as helpers of men.
In contrast, in the case of the very famous woman
Marie Curie, people make her out to be a hero.
People also view Newton and Voltaire as heroes, but
the way that people treat a woman as a hero differs from their treatment of a heroic man. The heroic female scientist is often portrayed as a more perfect human?in other words, a ‘saint’.

Marie Curie worked with her husband Pierre Curie (1859?1906), received the Nobel Prize (1903), and then continued to conduct research by herself and was awarded her second Nobel Prize (1911). Her daughter and her daughter’s husband, Irene and Frederic Joliot-Curie, respectively, also received a Nobel Prize in Chemistry (1935) as a result of their cooperative research.

Marie Curie became so famous because her second daughter, a pianist and journalist, wrote her mother’s biography, Madame Curie (1938). It became a worldwide bestseller, and was also made into a Hollywood movie.

In the biography, Marie was described as a perfect wife. When her husband Pierre died in 1906, her eldest child was eight years old and the younger one was just one year old. She carried the burden of a single parent raising the two children on her own, and despite this heavy weight on her, earned her second Nobel Prize. Furthermore, she raised a Nobel laureate and a famous journalist. Marie was indeed a perfect woman.

Marie Curie was born Maria Sk?odowska in 1867 in what is now known as Poland. At that time, Poland as we know it did not exist; it was divided and ruled by Prussia (later, the German Empire), Russia and Austria.

Maria lived in Warsaw, which belonged to the Russians, and as both a citizen of an occupied country and a woman, she was the object of overt discrimination. Despite that, she established herself in science, got married and raised two children.

As a wife, and as a scientist, she would have faced many difficulties, and yet, she made a great discovery, which even a man has difficulty doing. Her life serves as a good example that the scientific world is one that accepts anybody as a hero if the person is smart and hard-working.

Science is meant to be objective, but the fact remains that people equate science with masculinity, and thus, Marie Curie is used to cover up the discrimination associated with science. A woman is nothing more than the cherry on the sundae if she is not famous, but if she becomes famous, then she is elevated to the position of a saint. When the stereotype of the perfect wife and mother is stressed, most girls would respond, ‘There is no way I could do this’ and decide not to follow in the steps of Marie Curie.

But we must keep in mind that Marie Curie was also a human, so she could not have been perfect. Since there are undoubtedly various views on Marie Curie, reflecting upon my own view, considering what could emerge from Marie Curie’s own writings, I wrote the book Marie Curie’s Challenge ? Science, Gender, War.

Fortunately, the book received a lot of reviews in various publications, including one by Professor Yoichiro Murakami, and I was overjoyed when I realized that those reading the book were evaluating it positively. In other words, I became aware that by publishing this book, I was challenging the norm of casting the woman in a supporting role, or depicting her as the cherry on the sundae and was favoured by recent situation.

I think our society has been promoting diversity, though slowly.

Back to the first episode I told you, while it might sometimes occur that when a woman says ‘no’, she means ‘yes’, when a woman turns down an invitation, there are many meanings. There is an absolute ‘no’, or a ‘no’ that means that the day is not convenient for her, or a ‘no’ because the invitation does not interest her, or perhaps even a ‘no’ that is actually an indication of love for the inviter.

There are so many responses and possibilities depending on the situation and/or the person’s feelings on the occasion. So, I think we should not assume that there is a ‘right’ answer.

We may all answer a question as we choose. We can speak freely. I believe that an open society and an open research situation are closely linked.

It will be great if everybody has the right to speak openly, or can freely share his or her viewpoint. Therefore, I wish for us to live in a society where the minority has a voice, not only in gender research, but other topics as well, including bullying, and where the majority has an ear for such a voice.

It is my great pleasure to receive the Yamazaki Award today, because it is not an award that honours me alone. Giving such a high evaluation to a minority researcher, especially one who conducts gender research, like me, means that the award also gives a high evaluation to researchers all over the world, including the organizer of the exhibition on du Chatelet, who share my beliefs.

Thank you for your attention.

Additional Statement: This article is a grant-aided study that gained two Grants-in-Aids for scientific research (Scientific Research (C):19510273, 23510347) regarding “academies of sciences and women”.