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Walker, Margaret Urban, 1948Hypatia, Volume 20, Number 3, Summer 2005, pp. 153-165 (Article)
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Diotima’s Ghost: The Uncertain Place of Feminist Philosophy in Professional Philosophy
MARGARET URBAN WALKER
When asked about the state of feminist philosophy in the profession of academic philosophy, I am not sure what question I’m trying to answer. Is it a question about the success of feminist philosophy as it has emerged into professional discourse since the 1970s? If this is the question, what are the measures of success? For many women who founded or contributed to feminist philosophy the very existence of feminist philosophy as a category of philosophy recognized in the profession seems to constitute a great success. The establishment of feminist philosophy within professional philosophy in the twentieth century is incontestable, given such facts as the following. There is a large and generationally layered literature that includes new subject matters as well as forms of critical analysis of other philosophical discourses and of the philosophical tradition. A well-established journal, Hypatia, is devoted to feminist work. Anthologies, textbooks, companions, and guides to feminist philosophy are published by major presses, and there are book series in feminist philosophy at one major university press and one major commercial academic publisher. Feminist philosophy now appears as an area of competence and (much less frequently) as an area of specialization in professional job listings. The Society for Women in Philosophy, a professional organization devoted to feminist philosophy, has been around since the 1970s, and FEAST (Association for Feminist Ethics and Social Theory) hosts its second national conference in 2005. Courses in feminist philosophy are offered at undergraduate and graduate levels at a great
Hypatia vol. 20, no. 3 (Summer 2005) © by Margaret Urban Walker
many colleges and universities, and dissertations are written on authors and topics that belong to the philosophical literature of feminist philosophy. So much now exists that didn’t exist twenty-five years ago, and it is all the more remarkable that the emergence of what now exists as feminist philosophy was often greeted, when it was not ignored, with ridicule or threat as well as incomprehension. Some still say that feminist philosophy “isn’t philosophy,” but in so far as feminist philosophy enjoys a place on the map of professional philosophy, it clearly is. What can we assume, however, about the future of feminist philosophy? Philosophical schools and movements come and go. Feminist philosophy is here, but we might ask whether it will endure, what impact it will have on the discipline of academic philosophy, and to what extent its distinctive contributions will become embedded in the standard training we afford to students who undertake the study of philosophy. Unfortunately, we have reason to worry about the future of feminist philosophy on every score. My enjoyment of the emergence of feminist philosophy is tempered by what is revealed in the four volumes of A History of Women Philosophers, edited by Mary Ellen Waithe and produced through the collaborative work of many scholars (Waithe 1987, 1989, 1991, 1995). Browsing through this remarkable work, one discovers something little known even now: feminist philosophy existed before its current flowering. In her introduction to the final volume, Waithe brings to our attention a striking and disturbing result of this massive research project: “The record shows that in every historical epoch in which we have a record of men engaging in philosophy, we also have a record of women engaging in philosophy.” Moreover, “In every epoch there have been women philosophers who confronted women’s issues, inquired as to women’s nature, and exhorted their male counterparts to take them seriously.” So women have addressed ‘the woman question’ “ever since there have been women philosophers,” just as they have also addressed virtue, sense perception, and metaphysics all along the way (Waithe 1995, xli–xlii). The completed project documents Waithe’s claim. Even a partially accurate history of philosophy that restores forgotten women shows that twentieth-century feminist philosophy is really a fourth wave. It was preceded by early female Pythagoreans, learned philosophers of the convents and monasteries like Hildegard of Bingen and renaissance women like Christine de Pisan, and our more familiar foresisters from Mary Wollstonecraft in the eighteenth century on to Emma Goldman and Jane Addams in the twentieth. For inclusion in her compendium Waithe used a conservative strategy of selecting women whose intellectual activity fit conceptions of philosophy current at their time and place. Waithe explains that one root of her project was her pursuit of “Diotima’s historicity.” All philosophy teachers and students seemed to “know” that Diotima is a fictional character, a device in a famous Platonic dialogue, the Symposium. On what basis, Waithe started to wonder in the 1980s, does everyone
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(including Waithe herself) think they know this? Waithe eventually concluded through research that the evidence for Diotima’s reality is substantial, even if not conclusive, and that her imaginary status appears to be a fifteenth-century historian’s fiction that stuck.1 Waithe’s restoration of just a small sampling of women philosophers throughout history, and her concern with Diotima’s reality serves as a cautionary tale. Feminism recurred rather than emerged in the later twentieth century; it had come and gone before as a philosophical discourse and an intellectual vision. It came and went along with the presence, the recognized work, and the impact of women philosophers throughout history in those places that are the scene of Western philosophy. Diotima’s fate is particularly haunting; it seems she was the teacher, at least by reputation, of a very great male philosopher. Yet she did not just disappear from the history of philosophy. She was reduced to a figment of that great man’s imagination. So the picture of the recent emergence of feminist philosophy conceals a history of submergence and disappearance. The ideas of real women may disappear with them, and so might women’s authorship of ideas that linger on in the recognized and canonized work of men. This seems to be as much of a fact in the history of philosophy as is the birth date of Descartes. Unlike the birth date of Descartes, however, you will not find this in histories of the subject other than Waithe’s. Neither women philosophers, nor the feminism they seem to bring to philosophy along with their epistemology, ethics, and metaphysics, can be counted on to find its way into the permanent record and the officially valued legacy that is what we call “the philosophical tradition.” For this reason, I believe the relevant comparison for the success of feminist philosophy is not other movements of the twentieth century, like existentialism, logical positivism, or cognitive science, to pick a few varied contrast cases. The relevant and urgent comparison would seem to be the documented history of disappearance of women philosophers and their feminist (or at least woman-acknowledging) concerns. What can we see in the present that might allow or prevent feminist concerns and perspectives to be acknowledged and incorporated into the practice of philosophy as a professional discipline and a tradition in an enduring way? Women in the Profession To begin, I believe we need to look at the representation of women in the profession. This is not because all women are feminist philosophers, nor because feminist philosophers are necessarily female. These are false notions that can do harm. For example, philosophers who are women may be pressed or expected to teach a feminist philosophy service course because of student demand or because it enhances the department’s undergraduate offerings, whether or not they have any interest or training in feminist philosophy. Male professors and
students, on the other hand, often think that feminist philosophy is a women’s topic rather than a philosophical one, and some neither expect nor respect men’s doing feminist philosophy. In my experience, most male philosophy students, especially undergraduates, do not take feminist philosophy courses, as if it were not really a kind of philosophy, but a sort of female activity. Despite the real and present dangers of this confusion, however, I believe there is a clear link between the emergence and incorporation of feminist philosophy and the presence of women in the profession of philosophy. Although I have been unable to find studies of the point at which women’s presence in academic, or more specifically humanities, disciplines marks a decisive difference in disciplinary culture, Rosabeth Moss Kanter’s studies of corporate organization might be a rough guide to the proportions. Kanter claims that groups become “tilted” at approximately a 65 to 35 percent ratio, and it is at this point that the minority can affect the organizational culture.2 I believe that the experience of the past thirty years shows that when women reach that tilting point in a humanities discipline, changes occur in the work done and in the understanding of professional culture that seem clearly to represent the presence of women. One such change is that women in sufficient numbers bring critical thinking about the impact of gender on the shape of the discipline and on the aspects of our human lives with which the discipline deals. They bring concern with a larger picture of society, politics, literature, science, and history that comprehends the whole of the human species. They bring interest in research into women’s lives, and into topics relating to the bodies, lives, and social situations of women. They also bring interest in the work of women who were there before. If the humanities had always been informed by interests in, and by the interests of, both women and men, and if the exploration of these interests had always been the result of engagement and interaction among women and men working together as peers, creating and collaborating in philosophy alongside of and in reaction to each other, this phenomenon of disciplinary changes due to the inclusion of women wouldn’t exist. But given the history of our society and our academy, it does exist, and it matters. It matters to knowledge and to social life, and it matters very much to education. The presence of concerns, texts, and images that acknowledge women within undergraduate classrooms, graduate training, and professional media allow women students to feel that a discipline, literally, comprehends them, that it is a space that they are free to enter and expected to enter. A large body of research now speaks of “chilly” educational climates and classrooms, and about “hidden” curricula that manage to teach lessons not listed on the syllabus.3 Some of those indelible lessons consist in what and who is not on the syllabus, and in the emphasis placed on certain histories, problems, peoples, and geographical locations to the exclusion of others. The presence of women in learned professions and the acknowledgment of the reality of the lives of women that
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in fact tends to come with them when they are present in sufficient numbers is vital to the process of inviting female students to the study and profession of philosophy, as vital as is the presence of scholars of color to inviting male and female students of color. It is, of course, not the case that all women in any discipline have interests specifically related to women or to feminism. Many do not. This is no more surprising than the fact that not all philosophers, male or female, have interests in Kantian aesthetics, or theories of truth, or ontology. Feminist philosophy is a kind of philosophy, a skilled philosophical discourse with its own conceptual tools, rhetorical tropes, problematics, and base of references. It is a kind of philosophy, not a female or feminine activity. It is also not the case, one hastens to add, that feminist work is necessarily “about women,” in an obvious sense. Feminist work that attends mainly to women, to the impact of gender on life and thought, and to the intersection of the impact of gender with that of other socially marked differences, is, one might say, the “root” of feminist philosophy. The branches, however, are methods and styles of inquiry, of looking at philosophical questions through the lens of gender and other socially marked and power-laden differences. Feminist philosophy is a method, not a topic. Feminist ethics, for example, is an approach to ethics, like Aristotelianism or Kantianism. When working as a feminist philosopher, whether one is thinking about philosophy of law or epistemic virtue or real essences, one has learned to keep an eye on the impact of various social differences that matter to how one thinks and what one sees. One has learned to look out for topics and questions that seem to have been neglected or marginal within disciplinary discourses; the absence or presumed unimportance of these matters might not be accidental in a tradition and profession controlled by some men whose social privilege is not only one of sex but also of race, class, and other factors. The methodological and topical developments that result from feminist philosophy’s different pattern of attention have import for philosophy and life, and not only for women. Feminist philosophy, in tandem with feminist theory, race theory, gay and lesbian theory, transgender theory, postcolonial theory, disability theory, and other late twentieth-century critical discourses, demonstrates the importance of keeping in view the many human experiences, specific histories, social locations, and experiential standpoints that need to be acknowledged in talking about humanity, society, value, and reality. The meaning and consequences of these many differences is a methodological challenge. It is a challenge, that is, for philosophy, not only for feminist philosophy. It deserves to be a central philosophical topic. Without claiming that a “women’s voice” is the voice of all women in any discipline—a discredited idea—nonetheless a link seems to connect the presence of women in humanities disciplines and certain changes in the content and
methodology recognized in those fields. This recognition in turn has significant effects in signaling that a field of study welcomes those from groups historically excluded from it. Recognition, however, is the key word here. It is one thing for feminist theory, women’s studies, and gender studies to have made a beachhead in academe with the greater representation of women in academic professions from the 1970s on. It is another for the methodological and substantive concerns that have come with greater representation of women to become an integral part of professional training and the competence it is expected to produce. With this in mind, we need to ask about the current level of representation of women in philosophy, compared with other disciplines, especially other humanities disciplines, and then about the degree of integration of feminist thought into the discipline. Feminist Philosophy in the Profession The Chronicle of Higher Education recently informed us that “American Women Surpass Men in Earning Doctorates.” While American women earned 44 percent of doctorates a decade ago, in 2002 they earned nearly 51 percent of doctoral degrees. Overall, women (whether or not U.S. citizens) earned the majority of U.S. doctorates in the social sciences (55 percent), humanities (50.4 percent), and education (66 percent). In physical sciences women earned 27 percent, and in engineering 18 percent, of doctoral degrees. These figures are not disaggregrated for distinct disciplines, however (Chronicle, December 12, 2003, A19). The most recent figures I was able to find that single out Ph.D.s in philosophy or recent doctoral recipients are on the American Philosophical Association Web site and are from the mid-1990s.4 These show that as of 1995, out of approximately 8300 holders of Ph.D.s in philosophy, 82.6 percent were male and 17.4 percent were female, compared to an average for all humanities fields of 64.6 percent male and 35.4 percent female. Figures for recent doctoral recipients are slightly less lopsided for 1996, with approximately 70.7 percent men and 29.2 percent women receiving the Ph.D. in philosophy. A longitudinal look at figures on philosophy degrees broken down by sex from 1950 to 1994 shows a take-off of women in the early 1970s, but one that doesn’t show a steady advance, with figures for the 1980s and early 1990s showing a basically stagnant, rough 75/25 percent breakdown. It is true that the past decade has been a time of generational shift in the profession, as many retirements that were deferred when mandatory age-65 retirement was abandoned are now coming to pass. There are more women than ever before in academic philosophy. As an older, overwhelmingly male generation leaves the profession, or vacates academic positions, we might optimistically expect the representation of women in the profession and on faculties to be approaching the 30 percent mark. However, this is still comparatively low for a humanities
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discipline; philosophy’s doctoral rates for women are closer to those for the physical sciences.5 Has philosophy reached that critical mass, evident in the other humanities disciplines in the 1980s and 1990s, that seemed to make attention to gender as a feature of society, thought, texts, and discourses part of the common discourse of those other professions? Some features of the current position of feminist philosophy within academic philosophy, to which I turn now, seem to show that it has not. Professional philosophy, I argue, has held out with remarkable success against the full reception, legitimacy, and professional entrenchment of feminist philosophy. Given the cyclical disappearance and erasure of women and feminist thought in philosophy historically, this means that feminist philosophy may be once again in danger of dwindling and disappearing, and the presence of women to stagnate (or possibly to decline) both in numbers and in professional status. I focus on what I call the institutional marginality and professional encapsulation of feminist philosophy within professional philosophy, and on the link between the position of feminist philosophy and low representation of women in the field. Something happened in the 1980s and 1990s with the arrival of women in other humanities disciplines near, at, or over the 50 percent mark—that point at which the humanities represent the sexual demographic of humanity. Somewhere between philosophy’s (optimistically projected) 25–30 percent and that 50 percent mark comes a discursive/professional tipping point. What happens at that point is that gender as a category of analysis, a subject matter, and a principle of locating suspiciously neglected subject matters (otherwise known as silences), becomes a part of the standard equipment of scholars in the field. This does not mean that everyone works on it, or that everyone cares about it, but that everyone is supposed to understand how it works. A graduate student in literary studies who doesn’t know anything about gender in the text or the gender of the reader isn’t well schooled; he is unsophisticated or methodologically impaired. I am simplifying and generalizing here, but my understanding of at least some other humanities fields in the past twenty years suggests to me that feminist thought has been significantly mainstreamed in the sense just explained; gender becomes part of the critical repertory. This has not happened in philosophy. Several kinds of evidence point to philosophy’s immunity from this kind of mainstreaming. Most graduate departments of philosophy have nothing or little in the way of resources in feminist philosophy, and to my knowledge, cursory knowledge of how gender and other social difference might matter to philosophy is in no way required of philosophers. Most undergraduate textbooks, especially introductions to philosophy, remain astonishingly meager in their attention to issues of gender (not to mention, as they often don’t, race, sexuality, or disability). A generation of ethics anthologies for the classroom are
much more adequate in this regard, but when I tried to search out a collection on justice theories and issues recently, I found almost nothing that reflects the impact of feminist, race, American Indian, African American, or gay/lesbian/ bisexual/transgender, or disability perspectives, to recite a less than exhaustive list. What is true in university courses is also true in professional conferences. Most conference programming reflects the presence of women who are feminist philosophers of ethics, epistemology, and so forth, largely in sessions on feminist topics or on women; it remains unusual to see feminist philosophers integrated into sessions on topics that are not labeled “feminist” or do not have the word women in the title. This would be fine if feminist philosophy were a topic, but since it is also a powerful methodology, it suggests exclusion. Students who get a bit of feminist philosophy in a course not so designated sometimes bridle or tune out, and I suppose that the same principle operates for many professional philosophers—they shouldn’t have to listen to something feminist in a session that is supposed to be “just” philosophy. I like to think these boundaries are breaking down, but checks of recent APA programs seem to confirm this pattern. “Institutional marginality” means that an officially recognized place has been found for feminist philosophy; that is a good thing and no small thing. But feminist philosophy, it seems, is supposed to stay in the place marked “feminist” or “women.” Segregation, here as elsewhere, does not conduce to equal respect and to accurate understanding. Institutional marginality leads to something worse, encapsulation. When a philosophical methodology and research program does not get the chance to enter the broader field of professional debate, the profession loses, but so, sadly, does the encapsulated discourse. I’m afraid that this has happened to feminist philosophy rather routinely. The fate of most feminist philosophical work is not to be thoroughly and energetically taken up, mined for what is valuable, and critiqued by those who do not share feminist perspectives. I suppose this happens occasionally, but I don’t think it happens often. It means that most feminist work, regardless of quality, does not get the energy and development that comes from broader professional engagement. Feminist work does not much register in the much more influential discourses of our profession, even in the form of acknowledgment of feminist work as worthy of note—even literally, of a footnote—and this is true even when the topics are ones that have been intensively discussed by feminist philosophers.6 Encapsulation also keeps a lot of feminist philosophy locked into criticizing mainstream discourses upon which it has, unfortunately, no impact, or no impact acknowledged as owing to feminist philosophy. Feminist philosophers thus accord importance, as they professionally must, to the mainstream views, but do not receive acknowledgment in return, thus contributing to their own marginality. This, I think, is an inevitable outcome of professionalization of a discipline together with encapsulation at the margins of some disciplinary approaches.
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It is truly a double bind: to participate at the margins without addressing the center feels defeating, but to address the center is also defeating. Participation at the margins is real, but can be professionally limiting; participation at the center is largely virtual, but takes real time and energy. Graduate students quickly learn from this setup that feminist discussions are not serious enough to take an interest in, and graduate students—the next generation of professional philosophers—are sensitive to the pressures to exhibit “professionalism” by knowing the right things to read, the right problematics with which to frame discussions, the right vocabularies to use in them. On the other hand, when some of us educate graduate students in feminist philosophy, we are likely to require them to be philosophically literate in “mainstream” discourses, knowing that they will have to be conversant in other philosophical languages and literatures. We also know that many of their future colleagues will not consider them worthy conversational partners if the philosophy they do is feminist philosophy. We are often placed in the frustrating position of trying to encourage idealistic and gifted students excited about feminist philosophy, but also having to warn them that what they have become excited about is looked down upon or simply ignored by many others. This means having to tell them that we are second class and that they are likely to be, too. It means, as is always true with systems of privilege, that some of us are vulnerable to being discredited for not knowing the more professionally central discourses, while those who choose to inhabit those conventionally credited discourses are free to be blithely ignorant of most of what feminist philosophy has done over the past quarter century, or to have mistaken or cartoonish impressions of it. All of this is acceptable if feminist philosophy is trivial or worthless. I assume here, of course, that feminist philosophy contains much that is worth knowing, indeed, necessary to know, if one is interested in humanity, truth, reality, value, and objectivity. There’s bad feminist philosophy, as there is bad philosophy of other types. The fact that a lot of very good feminist philosophy remains persistently and often completely outside the ken of the mainstream of our profession is not explained by its having been examined and found wanting. It remains largely dismissed antecedently or simply ignored, depriving it of both its legitimate impact and of the considerable nourishment that it would receive by broader engagement. This is particularly disturbing in a profession that constantly reiterates its image as one of fearless truth-seeking through rigorous testing of views. Another form of encapsulation I note with some hesitation. I have no hard data to offer, and don’t feel entitled to use other people’s names. I mention it, nonetheless, because there is something real happening here. A number of highly visible senior women in feminist philosophy now have sole or primary appointments in departments that are not philosophy departments. Virtually no senior positions are advertised for feminist philosophers, very prominent
feminist philosophers are not replaced in kind upon retirement, and a notable number of senior women whose work is viewed as feminist philosophy have found that the paths to mobility or to rewards commensurate with their achievements are found only outside the profession of philosophy in other disciplinary, or interdisciplinary, settings. I have been watching this, and talking to other women about this, for a number of years now. Long since I began discussing this small but telling exodus with other women I too spent several years in an appointment outside a philosophy department. I chose to do that, as have a number of others, and we might have made this choice for various reasons at this stage of our careers. Still, what were the alternatives we saw to exiting our disciplinary placement and seeking the advancement and fulfillment of our careers elsewhere? I suspect that for many of us these choices were seriously constrained. The path to institutional recognition and reward lay elsewhere. I do not know of a similar “exit” phenomenon with senior and highly visible male philosophers, or with senior highly visible female philosophers who are not feminists. Some other senior feminist philosophers find that even as they stay in philosophy departments, the places where they are able to receive recognition and challenge in their intellectual work, where their work is used, cited, celebrated, discussed, and challenged, lie quite outside the discipline of philosophy (and not necessarily, as some might suppose, in Women’s Studies). The Future of Feminist Philosophy The effects of institutional marginalization and encapsulation is that feminist philosophy can be made unrecognized, unrewarding, unattractive, and unhelpful to one’s career prospects to the point where it, or the people who do it, can be made to go away. Feminist philosophy can be kept away from undergraduate and graduate students, and they from it. Feminist work can be ignored without being examined. Feminist philosophers can be kept off to the side and in effect invited to leave the profession in order to find a more engaging and rewarding venue. If feminist work is not taught and discussed more widely, it is less likely to be cited and reprinted and to survive at least a generation. If there is not some room in graduate departments for feminist philosophers, they cannot train graduate students to carry on what feminist philosophy has achieved. If there is little recognition of reward for highly visible achievements in feminist philosophy, people with these accomplishments will go elsewhere, at the risk of being defined out of philosophical existence. The means of entrenching a philosophical perspective and the conditions for propagating its influence to future generations of philosophers are thus severely undermined for feminist philosophy. I am terribly sorry to say that it sometimes seems as if the prevailing conditions are likely to outlive that fourth wave of feminist philosophy. Whatever its future, the ability of feminist
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philosophy to have its deserved permanent place on the historical record depends on its professional integration, and this, I claim, has been only very partially achieved. We can still hope that the combination of more women than ever in academic philosophy, and the basic institutional legitimacy feminist philosophy has achieved, even if at the margins, will yet work together to make philosophy more welcoming to women as students and professional academics. I find it hard to be optimistic about this. I’ve drawn a gloomy picture, yet I want to conclude on a celebratory note. To have been a part of the twentieth-century recurrence of feminist philosophy into a full-blown, professionally acknowledged, and institutionally seated philosophical research program has been an extraordinary experience for which I am grateful. Those who have not shared in this or a similar event may not understand how exciting it is to join in creating a new vision within, and opening a new window onto, a tradition over two thousand years old. Better still that we can see this intellectual creation as the reflection of immense social changes that have allowed women, albeit very unequally, unprecedented opportunities in our society; these changes matter much more than what happens in professional philosophy, but what happened in professional philosophy could not have happened without these changes. I would not have traded this experience for any more conventionally scripted career path and the satisfactions that it might have afforded. It’s a singular treat to be able to do things in philosophy that they didn’t teach you in graduate school. Everybody should give that a try.
1. The historian is Marsilio Ficino in a 1485 work (Waithe 1987, 106). 2. See Kanter 1993. I thank Joan Tronto for steering me to Kanter’s classic study. 3. Reports on the chilly climate for women and minorities are Hall and Sandler 1984 and Sandler and Hall 1986. See also Margolis and Romero 1998. 4. These figures are culled from the APA Web site section on “Philosophy as a Profession,” from “Data on the Profession: Selected Demographic Information on Philosophy Ph.D.’s, 1995”; “Data on the Profession: Ph.D.’s in Philosophy by Gender/Race/ Ethnicity,” through 1996; and “Data on the Profession: Degrees Awarded in Philosophy by U.S. Universities, 1949–1994.” 5. For more current information on doctoral recipients in the sciences, see the National Opinion Research Center Web site. 6. Another phenomenon too elusive to sort out here concerns topics introduced and developed by feminist philosophy that sometimes suddenly receive attention in nonfeminist philosophy without any mention of, or credit to, the prior feminist development. Sometimes rather broad references to feminist views are made in passing with perfunctory citations that do not represent the extent or complexity of relevant feminist work. The latter is at least better than nothing.
American Philosophical Association Web Site. Philosophy as a profession. http://www. apa.udel.edu/apa/profession/data.html (accessed October 23, 2004). Hall, Roberta, and Bernice R. Sandler. 1984. Out of the classroom: A chilly campus climate for women? Washington, D.C.: Project on the Status and Education of Women, Association of American Colleges. Kanter, Rosabeth Moss. 1993. Men and women of the corporation. New York: Basic Books. Margolis, Eric, and Mary Romero. 1998. “The department is very male, very white, very old, and very conservative”: The functioning of the hidden curriculum in graduate sociology departments. Harvard Educational Review 68: 1–32. National Opinion Research Center Web Site. http://www.norc.uchicago.edu/issues/ edudev5.asp (accessed October 23, 2004). Sandler, Bernice, and Roberta Hall. 1986. The campus climate revisited: Chilly for women faculty, administrators, and graduate students. Washington, D.C.: Project on the Status and Education of Women, Association of American Colleges. Waithe, Mary Ellen, ed. 1995. A history of women philosophers, vol. 4. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. , ed. 1991. A history of women philosophers, vol. 3. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. , ed. 1989. A history of women philosophers, vol. 2. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers. , ed. 1987. A history of women philosophers, vol. 1. Dordrecht: Kluwer Academic Publishers.