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Who has the influence to curb gender bias in STEM?

Who has the influence to curb gender bias in STEM?

Hint: It’s not women


When Charlotte Moser started graduate school, she was the only woman in a shared office with four male students. One day, a classmate casually remarked that he wished she weren’t there so the office could be all men.

Moser barely had time to process the sting of the exclusion before another male student cut in, calling out the remark as gender bias.

“It felt so great to have someone stand up for me,” Moser recalls. “I felt like someone had my back and I belonged in this space.”

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headshot of Charlotte Moser

Charlotte Moser, a research associate in CU Boulder’s Department of Psychology and Neuroscience, studies how allyship in male-dominated fields influences workplace culture.

That moment stayed with her—not just because of the personal validation, but because it led her to begin exploring a larger pattern in workplace dynamics.

Now as a research associate in the University of Colorado Boulder’s Department of Psychology and Neuroscience, Moser . Her findings reveal an unsettling but potentially useful truth: When men openly advocate for gender equality, their voices often carry more weight than women’s do.

The reason? Not necessarily gender, Moser says, but power and influence.

The social influence gap

Moser’s research suggests that in STEM workplaces, where men hold most leadership positions, male allies are perceived as more persuasive, more legitimate and more effective at creating a culture that supports gender equality than their female counterparts.

“We find that men who advocate for gender equality and act as allies tend to be better at signaling to women that they will belong and be respected in male-dominated STEM contexts than when women advocate for gender equality,” Moser says.

Her findings suggest that allyship in male-dominated workplaces isn’t just about intent or even gender. Rather, it’s about who is perceived as having the power to create change.

If a female scientist points out that women are often overlooked for leadership roles or promotions, she may be met with skepticism or dismissed as self-interested. But when a male colleague makes the same argument, research shows that their remark is more likely to be taken seriously and perceived as a norm-setting statement rather than a personal complaint.

“Other work has found that men tend to be perceived more positively than women when advocating for gender equality,” Moser explains. “Women tend to be viewed as whiners, complainers, and only acting in their own self-interest.”

The cost of exclusion

Gender bias in the workplace isn’t a theoretical issue. It has real repercussions.

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female crash test dummy

Car-crash dummies designed to represent women’s bodies weren’t introduced until 2011. Even today, they are tested only in the passenger seat, not the driver’s seat. (Photo: Lin Pan/Wikimedia Commons)

“A huge consequence is the loss of the contributions from many brilliant women scientists,” Moser says.

Research shows that women are less likely to be retained in male-dominated fields due to factors like persistent bias, exclusion and a lack of support. With fewer women present to offer their perspective, blind spots emerge, and those gaps can have serious, even deadly, implications.

One striking example is the case of crash-test dummies.

“For decades, car-crash dummies were built to represent the average body of a man,” Moser says. “This led women to be much more likely to fall victim to serious injury and death in car crashes.”

Shockingly, car-crash dummies designed to represent women’s bodies weren’t introduced until 2011. Even today, they are tested only in the passenger seat, not the driver’s seat. Recent statistics show that women are in a car accident and than male occupants.

This oversight isn’t an accident, but the denouement of decades of scientific decision-making that lacked diverse perspectives.

“More inclusive science is better for everyone—not just those who face bias,” Moser says.

Going beyond performative allyship

If allyship from men is perceived as more effective, what should they do to ensure their support is genuine and impactful?

Moser has a few recommendations.

“I would say that men who don’t know where to start could start within their own spheres. Pay attention to what’s going on, how people are treated, and listen to the women around you,” she says.

But listening is only the first step.

Moser emphasizes that standing up against gender bias isn’t just about making statements on social media or in private. Meaningful allyship requires action.

Calling out dismissive remarks in a team meeting or challenging biased hiring decisions can have an immediate effect. Those in leadership positions can stretch their influence further by advocating for equitable organizational policies and ensuring women have access to mentorship and career-advancement opportunities.

“One hurdle for men regarding allyship for gender equality is that they feel that it is ‘not their place,’” Moser says. “I hope that my work can show that allyship from men is not only wanted but very beneficial to women.”

However, Moser warns that inauthentic allyship—publicly claiming to support gender equality without backing it up—can make meaningful change even harder to achieve.

“The future of allyship isn’t just about who speaks. It’s about who gets listened to.”

“I have other work showing that it is worse to claim allyship but then do nothing to promote equality than if one had said nothing about inequality and allyship in the first place,” she says.

Who deserves to be heard?

Moser’s research makes clear the fact that eliminating gender bias in the workplace isn’t a matter of men versus women. Rather, it’s about recognizing and altering the systems that create credibility and influence.

“I think allyship can change the narrative of the widespread belief that most men don’t care about women and change the narrative that it’s women’s responsibility to make these workplaces work for them,” she says.

But the goal isn’t just getting men to use their influence—it’s about redistributing power so that women’s voices carry the same weight without needing male validation.

“The future of allyship isn’t just about who speaks,” Moser explains. “It’s about who gets listened to.”


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