Only two years were to pass before Summers' inability to get outside his own head would land him in fatally hot water.
The boiling point was reached following an appearance at a conference on women in science held in Cambridge in mid-January of 2005. There he suggested that the relatively small number of women in tenured positions in the physical sciences might in part be attributable to a relatively low frequency among females of innate potential for doing science at the highest level. Obviously aware that this was not to be welcomed as the most palatable hypothesis, he was careful to offer as well the more broadly subscribed-to alternative explanation that many talented women had been strongly discouraged by their teachers from ever trying to master top level mathematics and science.
Summers' remarks might have gone unnoticed outside the meeting
were it not for the presence of my former student, now a professor of biology at MIT, Nancy Hopkins. Over the past decade she had worked tirelessly to improve the working conditions of women scientists there. Before Nancy's highly visible efforts, the salaries and space assignments of women at MIT were notably unequal to those of their male counterparts. But Nancy did not challenge Summers at the meeting. Instead she bolted from the room, later saying Summers' words made her sick, and soon appeared on TV attacking him.
It did Nancy Hopkins no credit as a scientist to admit that the mere utterance of a hypotheses that there might be genetic differences between male and female brains-- and therefore differences in the distribution of one form of cognitive potential-- made her sick. Anyone sincerely interested in understanding the imbalance in the representation of men and women in science must be prepared to consider the extent to which nature may figure in the matter.
To my regret, Summers, instead of standing firm, within a week apologized publicly three times. Except for the psychologist Steve Pinker, no prominent Harvard scientist uttered a word in Summers' defense, the majority, I suspect, fearful of being tarred with the brush of political incorrectness. If I had still been a member of the faculty, the number of tenured scientists standing visibly behind the president in this matter would have literally doubled.
The women-and-science firestorm by itself did not lead to Summers' resignation in February 2006 as Harvard's president. It was merely the culmination of hundreds of more private displays on his part of seemingly rude disregard for the social niceties....
It may be, however, that Summers is not entirely to blame for his social ineptitude. His repeated failures to comprehend the emotional states of those he presided over might be indicative of the genetic hand he was dealt as a mathematical economist.... The social incapacity of mathematicians is no mere stereotype;
many of the most brilliant are mild to full-blown cases of Asperger's syndrome (the high-intelligence form of autism), perhaps the most genetically determined of known human behavioral "disabilities." Like exceptional math aptitude, Asperger's occurs five times more frequently in males than in females. Why this is so will remain a mystery without much more effort at uncovering how genes control the relative development and functioning of male and female brains.
If Summers' tactlessness does have a genetic basis, much of the anger against him should rightly yield to sympathy....
--James D. Watson (1928- ) in Avoid Boring People: Lessons From a Life in Science