ThinkHer

Scientific recognition does not always follow discovery. In many cases, credit moves toward senior scientists or institutions rather than toward those who first made the observation or produced the decisive evidence. This pattern is especially visible in the histories of women in science. Lise Meitner, whose work was central to the discovery of nuclear fission, was excluded from the Nobel Prize awarded to her collaborator. Rosalind Franklin’s data played a crucial role in uncovering the structure of DNA, yet her contribution remained largely unacknowledged during her lifetime. These are not isolated oversights but part of a long-standing pattern of omission in the telling of scientific history. Jocelyn Bell Burnell’s story unfolds within this same structure. Born on 15 July 1943 in Belfast, Northern Ireland, she grew up in a home where curiosity about the natural world was quietly encouraged. Her father, an architect and enthusiastic reader, introduced her to astronomy through books, w...

Since the Nobel Prizes were first awarded in 1901, more than 600 men have received the honour in the sciences—physics, chemistry, and physiology or medicine—while fewer than 30 women have been recognised. The imbalance is particularly striking in physics, where, out of over 200 laureates, only four have been women: Marie Curie (1903), Maria Goeppert Mayer (1963), Donna Strickland (2018), and Anne L’Huillier (2023). That means women make up less than 2% of all Nobel laureates in physics—a field that still struggles with gender parity at every level, from classrooms to laboratories. In 2018, when the Nobel Committee announced Donna Strickland’s name, it had been 55 years since a woman last won the Nobel Prize in Physics. Strickland’s recognition didn’t just mark a scientific milestone—it became a moment of reckoning for the discipline itself, forcing the world to ask why it takes decades for women’s brilliance in physics to be acknowledged. Donna Stickland in her lab  Courtesy of Uni...

We have written a few articles already about the personal beliefs and political convictions of scientists—how these elements shaped not only their worldviews but also their contributions within and beyond their disciplines. Yet, for those of us within the scientific community, it is evident that much of the work, particularly in the physical sciences, is rarely undertaken with the explicit aim of societal benefit. Rather, it is often driven by something more elusive: the raw human desire to understand the world.   I am not trying to claim objectivity or detachment of science from the world’s politics, but to recognize that more often than not, the primary aspiration of science is knowledge for its own sake, and not for immediate technological gain or social application. And yet, this pursuit—so seemingly removed from politics and policy—can ripple outward, shaping our understanding of the universe and, at times, changing the course of history. Chien-Shiung Wu’s career sta...

I remember how, during my years of higher education, students in the sciences were seen as the most apolitical. Unlike universities, India’s scientific research institutions actively discouraged student politics.  When we had a few protests organized on campus, and there were professors who told students that if they were absent from the lab to participate in the protests, they should not come back to work.  This was all justified by the belief that science 'should not be politicized.' But I often felt the discomfort of being asked to detach my intellect from the political realities around me.  I knew that this so-called objectivity wasn’t objective at all, but a quiet reinforcement of the status quo. Wangari Maathai through protests and recognitions Reading about Wangari Maathai brought this tension into sharper focus. She was the first woman in East and Central Africa to earn a Ph.D. in Biology—and she refused the apolitical ideal so often pushed in scientific instituti...

Before I write about anyone, I tend to look at the quotes and comments attributed to them to see how much of their personality I can connect with. I think of science as a work in progress, a continuous effort to unravel each knot to reveal some mysteries. So, Dorothy Hodgkin’s words, more than those of most scientists, resonate deeply with me whether it is “ The beauty of science lies in the intricate complexities of the natural world ” or “ Mistakes are inherent in scientific research and are valuable learning opportunities ”.  But for me, the quote that captures the essence of both her life and work would be “ Science does not exist in isolation; it is influenced by social, economic, and political factors ”.  Dorothy  was not just a brilliant scientist; she was a woman of vision, deeply aware of the world around her and the role science plays in shaping it. Dorothy Crowfoot Hodgkin with her crystal structures and during the Nobel awarding ceremony Dorothy Mary Crowfoot ...

When you pick up the memoir of a Nobel Prize-winning scientist detailing a groundbreaking discovery, you expect to be inspired. You anticipate admiration for the brilliance and perseverance of those involved. What you don’t expect is to finish the book with a deep sense of anger and resentment toward its author. Yet that’s exactly what happened when I read ' The Double Helix'  by James Watson, his account of the discovery of DNA’s structure. Instead of inspiration, I was left with a heavy heart for Rosalind Franklin, who should have been known as a co-discoverer along with Maurice Wilkins, Watson, and Francis Crick.   Rosalind Franklin  © Novartis Foundation Born on July 25, 1920, in Notting Hill, London, Rosalind Franklin grew up in an affluent Anglo-Jewish family that valued education for both men and women. A brilliant and independent child, she excelled at St. Paul’s Girls’ School, where she developed a strong passion for science. She went on to study chemistry a...

The Nobel Prizes hold the status of being one of the most prestigious awards in the world. However, they have their share of controversies. There have been instances of personal negative opinions, political motives, Eurocentrism, and subjective selections, systematically leading to the exclusion of deserving scientists. Lise Meitner is one such scientist.  Born in 1878 (11  years before Adolf Hitler was born) to a Jewish lawyer, Philipp Meitner, and his wife Hedwig, Lise Meitner was a curious young kid. It is said that she always had a notebook under her pillow to note down her scientific research. Her passion for science was understood and supported by her parents. She privately studied physics, since during that time women were not admitted to public institutions. In 1905 she became the second woman to earn a doctoral degree from the university of Vienna.  After a doctoral degree her best local job prospect was to work in a gas lamp factory, which didn't appeal to her. ...