The World Economic Forum reports that women remain underrepresented in STEM: in 2024, they accounted for just 28 percent of the workforce. UNESCO data paint a similar picture, showing that only one in three researchers worldwide is a woman, and in some countries the figure drops below 10 percent. Leadership positions are even more scarce: across STEM, just one in ten leaders is a woman.
For neurotechnology, the barriers are especially daunting. Developing expertise requires years of costly training, often discouraging those without family support or resources. This period frequently overlaps with the stage of life when many women are considering families, but uneven maternity policies leave female scientists feeling they must choose between scientific ambition and family life.
In academia, this pressure is felt ever more acutely: societal expectations of how prolific female scientists ought to prioritize their commitments cast doubt on whether women can balance patient care, teaching, and research with personal responsibilities. There is a persistent, idealized notion within academic medicine that foregoing family life is the mark of true commitment—and that any woman who seeks to pursue both a career and a family must not be taking her science seriously.
Even for those who persist, dynamics within labs and conferences can make participation harder. I have sat in rooms dominated by senior male academics, and I know how intimidating it can feel to speak up. Even in the most welcoming settings, we tend to shy away. Silence in those moments may often be misinterpreted as incompetence, when in reality it comes from the weight of the internalized and perpetually reinforced feeling of being in the minority. Over time, that dynamic erodes confidence and becomes self-amplifying. And as a result, the proportion of women declines further with each step up the academic ladder.1
Yet, I have also seen women who manage it all: principal investigators who are mothers, neurosurgeons who run clinics while heading labs, researchers who teach students, publish papers, and build families. It takes tremendous work and dedication to break the mold, and I applaud those who have redefined the exemplar “woman in science.” Though incredibly inspiring, the fact that it still stands out in 2025 is evidence of how far we have to go.
Why Diversity in Neurotech Is More Than Just Optics
It would be easy to frame diversity as a matter of fairness or optics. But in neurotech, and brain-computer interface development in particular, it is a question of safety, efficacy, and trust. Every engineer or scientist brings assumptions into the devices they design, and if those are homogeneous, bias becomes embedded in hardware, protocols, and algorithms. Closed-loop BCIs trained on datasets that underrepresent women will inevitably produce skewed models.
Consider how women’s physiological realities are often excluded from studies. Menstrual cycles, hormonal changes, pregnancy, and breastfeeding are treated as confounding variables and omitted from many trials. Consequently, we lack a clear understanding of how these factors interact with neurostimulation. A device calibrated without such knowledge may underperform or pose risks. Other fields of medicine offer cautionary examples: cardiovascular disease went underdiagnosed in women for decades because trial populations were overwhelmingly male. Neurotechnology cannot afford to repeat those mistakes.
Ethics and policy scholars have also warned that diversity must not be reduced to token gestures. A leading legal scholar Nita Farahany argues that we should be fighting for cognitive liberty—mental integrity and the right to control one’s own cognitive processes in an age of advancing neurotechnology and AI. Protecting against misuse and manipulation is one part of the challenge, and ensuring equitable design is another. Unless diverse voices shape these technologies, we risk encoding bias into systems that interact directly with the human brain.
I think about how stimulation interacts with premenstrual mood changes simply because I live that experience. A male colleague may miss that dimension, just because it is invisible to him. In neurotechnology, those dimensions can become critical blind spots.
Training the Next Generation of Women in STEM
Real change begins years before faculty hiring. The gap widens when girls internalize the belief that STEM is for the chosen few and never for them. Breaking the illusion is vital for shifting mindsets. Universities and other institutions must invest in programs that build confidence in women and sustain early interest, which calls for intentionality in allocating funding, hosting outreach sessions in high schools, and creating lab cultures where questions and mistakes are encouraged, not penalized.
Fortunately, there are already inspiring programs that aim to build those bridges. For instance, the Women in NeuroTech Group, which is a part of The Society for Brain Mapping and Therapeutics, offers mentorship, workshops, and outreach specifically for women in neurotechnology. Similarly, the Women in Neuroscience program runs paid internships for undergraduates, pairing them with research teams to gain knowledge, develop skills, and acquire hands-on experience.
The opportunities are already here; what remains is the courage to seize them and the resolve to actively pursue empowerment. I believe women who are already in the field carry an immense responsibility. By teaching classes, leading studies, and presenting at conferences, we provide living proof that this path is possible and redefine “normal.”
Yet progress cannot rest on our shoulders alone. Throughout my career, I have been fortunate to benefit from male mentors who, early in my training, supported me, lifted me up, and taught me how to navigate intimidating academic settings. They showed me the enormous shoes I had to fill, and instilled the confidence that I am fit for the job. Grateful as I am for my own experience, it is unfortunately not universal across our field. The change starts with us, but true inclusion also requires our male leaders to be our allies in recognizing talent and actively dismantling barriers.
