The history of science often presents a chronicle of the triumphs of “great men.” However, such a view usually silences the women whose names were omitted from publications or relegated to modest footnotes, while male colleagues received credit for their research. We will discuss three of the most high-profile episodes where women made decisive contributions to science but remained in the shadows. Rosalind Franklin: The True Discoverer of the DNA Structure The history of decoding the structure of DNA is a textbook example of the so-called “Matilda Effect.” Rosalind Franklin was an outstanding chemist and a top-tier specialist in X-ray crystallography. In the very early 1950s, her work became the key to understanding the blueprint of life. Franklin worked at King’s College London and obtained the radiograph that became famous as “Photo 51.” This was not just a snapshot, but an exceptionally clear X-ray image that unequivocally demonstrated the helical structure of DNA. This very image served as the source of inspiration for James Watson and Francis Crick in creating their iconic double-helix model. The crux of the problem lay in how this photograph was obtained. Rosalind’s working relationship with her colleague Maurice Wilkins was difficult. It was Wilkins, without Franklin’s consent or knowledge, who showed “Photo 51” to Watson. The Nobel Prize Without a Key Figure Watson and Crick used Franklin’s data to build their model. Rosalind was only briefly mentioned in their sensational paper, in a footnote. In 1962, Watson, Crick, and Wilkins shared the Nobel Prize for this discovery. By the time the award was given, Rosalind Franklin was deceased—she had died of cancer at the age of 37. Her role was reduced to that of a “technical executor” who supposedly just provided data, even though it was her analytical interpretation that made the breakthrough possible. Lise Meitner: Discovering the Phenomenon of Nuclear Fission The situation with the Austrian physicist Lise Meitner is perhaps the most egregious example where political intrigue and gender bias intertwined. Meitner was the intellectual leader of the research group in Berlin and collaborated for many years with the chemist Otto Hahn. She was a theoretical physicist responsible for comprehending the processes while Hahn conducted the practical experiments. Escape and Discovery from a Distance Due to her Jewish background, Meitner was forced to flee Nazi Germany in the summer of 1938. She continued her scientific work in Sweden, maintaining constant correspondence with Hahn. When Hahn obtained very unusual results from his uranium experiments, he could not interpret them. It was Meitner, together with her nephew Otto Frisch, who correctly understood the essence of what was happening: the uranium nucleus splits into two components, releasing a colossal amount of energy in the process. They gave this phenomenon the name “nuclear fission.” Betrayal on Political Grounds Otto Hahn published the results but completely excluded Meitner from the list of co-authors. He feared potential political repercussions for collaborating with a Jewish émigré in Hitler’s Germany. Later, he consistently denied her contribution, insisting that the discovery belonged exclusively to the realm of chemistry. In 1944, Otto Hahn was awarded the Nobel Prize in Chemistry alone “for the discovery of the fission of heavy atomic nuclei.” Lise Meitner was nominated 48 times, but the prize never went to her. Justice was symbolically restored only in 1997 when the 109th element of the Periodic Table—meitnerium (Mt)—was named in her honor. Jocelyn Bell Burnell: The Role of “Just a Student” If politics played a decisive role in Meitner’s case, Jocelyn Bell Burnell’s fate was determined by a rigid academic hierarchy. In 1967, she was a graduate student at Cambridge analyzing data coming from a radio telescope. Perseverance Despite Skepticism Her work seemed routine: Jocelyn studied kilometers of paper tapes recorded by plotters. She was the first to register a strange, strictly periodic signal. Her supervisor, Anthony Hewish, initially dismissed it as interference and even joked about “little green men.” For many months, Bell Burnell proved that this signal was real, methodically ruling out all possible terrestrial sources of interference. Eventually, the scientific team was forced to admit: they had discovered an entirely new type of astronomical object—pulsars. The Award for the Supervisor In 1974, the Nobel Prize in Physics for the discovery of pulsars was awarded to Anthony Hewish and Martin Ryle. Jocelyn, who made the observation herself and proved its scientific significance, was not included in the list of laureates. The formal reason was her status: she was only a graduate student. Within the academic structure of the time, it was believed that the “rights to the discovery” belonged to the head of the research group who secured funding and organized the construction of the telescope itself. In 2018, Jocelyn received the Breakthrough Prize (worth $3 million) and donated the entire fund to finance scholarships for women and underrepresented minorities in science to help those facing similar obstacles. The Relevance of These Stories These examples are not just artifacts of the past. They clearly demonstrate the functioning of systemic limitations. Gradually, ethical standards in science are changing. Modern regulations require precise and honest acknowledgment of the contribution of every research participant to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past. Recognizing merit is not just a formal award; it is a fundamental question of honesty and the correct narration of scientific history.
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