Transcriber: Justine Whitaker Reviewer: Laura Pasquale
Ten years ago, I used to come up to my dad and say,
"My computer doesn't work. Can you fix it for me?"
My dad would sigh, sit down at the computer, and fix it.
Raise your hand if a similar situation happens to you at your home.
That is a lot of hands. It happens a lot, doesn't it?
Later on, a geeky teenager, I rebelled against the world,
and declared computer science as my major.
Why exactly was I rebelling?
Well, it's easy to see if you look at the numbers.
When I took my first Introduction to Computer Science course,
I was the only woman in a class of 30.
Looking beyond the classroom,
I discovered that most Idaho technology companies
do not have any women software developers.
Only 22% of software developers in the United States are women.
As my teenage rebellion quieted down a little bit,
and I entered this analytical state of mind
in which you ask yourself, "Why does the world work the way it does?"
I wondered, "Why are there so few women software engineers out there?"
And then I wondered,
"Was that somehow connected to me asking my dad for computer help,
when I could have easily fixed the problem myself?"
And then I wondered, "Was I born with this innate desire
to ask for computer help any time I was having computer problems?
Or was it derived?"
However, it has been a while since I was a little girl,
so I couldn't figure out the answer on my own.
Instead, I decided to set up an experiment.
I started volunteering at events
to encourage young children to pursue careers in STEM,
Science, Technology, Engineering, and Math.
Hundreds of children attend those events, many of whom are little girls.
At the end of those events,
those girls are asking more questions than the little boys.
Clearly, the girls are truly interested in computer science.
The question we have to ask ourselves then:
What happens to those girls
during their early experiences with computer science and technology,
that takes away their desire and interest
to learn technology and computer science?
Here's what I found out.
At one of the events that I volunteered,
I saw a little girl and a little boy come in,
sit down at the computer to solve a programming question.
Then suddenly, the boy snatches the keyboard away from the little girl
and starts solving the problem himself
while the girl passively sits there and watches the boy code.
How rude and frustrating.
Later on, during the same event, I saw a different situation.
A little girl and a her dad walk in, sit down at the computer,
so we are doing great so far.
However, as it often happens in software development,
at some point the little girl encounters a bug,
a problem in her code that she has to fix.
She is barely able to analyze the bug,
when the dad snatches away the keyboard from her
and starts fixing the bug himself.
That was a very bad day for little girls.
(Laughter)
But it was a good day for me.
I realized something.
This is exactly what happened to me when I asked my dad to fix my computer,
when I could have easily fixed the problem myself.
And then I started seeing this pattern happening to women everywhere:
keyboards stolen away from women in technology classrooms,
in technology competitions, and in women's own homes!
But what do I mean by "keyboards stolen away"?
Do women have to be afraid when they go and pick up
that new keyboard from the store,
that someone will run up to them in the parking lot,
grab their keyboard, and run off?
Probably not.
What I mean by "keyboard" is a more abstract term for technology.
A keyboard can be anything:
your phone, a virtual reality headset, a nuclear reactor, if you please.
Whatever technology truly makes you happy,
makes you who you are, is a keyboard.
But what happens when that keyboard, when that piece of technology
that you love using so much is taken away from you?
How would you feel?
At first you would probably feel very angry.
"How dare they take this piece of technology I love using so much?"
But with time, that anger will turn into something else.
As the girl's attempts at using technology fail,
due to those unexpected and uncontrollable events
such as that boy stealing away the girl's keyboard,
the girl starts to internalize the failure.
She starts to believe that she cannot be good at technology,
and she gives up all the subsequent attempts at learning it
and becoming better at it.
In psychology this kind of event is called
"learned technological helplessness," as Dr. Joy Harris has coined it.
What would the world be like
if we got rid of learned technological helplessness?
Where would we be today?
Of course, there would be more women software developers out there.
That would not only improve the current state of the US economy,
it would decrease the ever present gender pay gap.
Just imagine if more women
made the median software developer's salary of $95,000.
But apart from empowering women in their work lives,
getting rid of learned technological helplessness
will empower those women in their everyday lives.
With those keyboards,
the women will feel like they can do anything in this world.
So, how do we get rid of learned technological helplessness?
How do those women get their keyboards back?
First, teachers, parents, boys, and men:
keep the women in your lives accountable.
If you see a woman or a little girl, don't take away her keyboard.
It may be tempting, but don't.
My husband knows about learned technological helplessness,
so anytime I come up to him and ask him for computer help,
he looks at me like this and says,
"You have a bachelor's and a master's degree in computer science,
you can figure it out."
And he's right.
And I sit down and figure out the problem,
and it's normally a very easy problem to solve.
But the most important way for us
to get rid of learned technological helplessness,
is to keep ourselves accountable.
The other day, I was installing a Linux operating system
on my virtual machine,
and I was having trouble with the screen being too small.
I struggled a bit for a while, and at some point I got so frustrated,
I said, "I am just going to wait for my husband to come home
and fix the problem for me."
But then something clicked.
And I said, "No, I am not going to do that."
I sat down, I persevered, and fixed the problem myself.
And then I wondered,
"Why the hell did I think I needed a man to fix my computer for me?"
(Cheers) (Applause)
So take it from me, girls and women.
Keep working on that bug, create software,
and never, ever let anyone take the keyboard away from you.
Thank you.
(Applause)