Gender and professionalism: Still a black box a call for research,debate and action. Suggestions from and beyond the pandemic crisis

Introduction

This is an “Acting Up” paper. It is not a simple academic writing, but a call to action in the academia, in our research work, as well as in the sphere of political engagement. Indeed, the contribution proposes a reflection on a key element of the world we live in, albeit often overlooked: the nexus between professionalism and gender, which is the source of persistent inequalities in our society. The article focuses exactly on this theme, “that have traditionally been unheeded”—if not negated—“by mainstream research” (Brewis et al., 2014), constructing an analytical narrative on gender-professionalism nexus that aims at a radical change in the organization of today’s society which is (white, western, and bourgeois, i.e. middle-class) male centered (see Calas and Smircich, 1996; Ferguson, 1994). Opening the black box of gender-professionalism is not only a speculative but a substantive concern, an issue of crucial importance. In this perspective, the article undertakes the same arduous task as Organization as scientific journal: providing theoretical tools to understand reality and transform the society we live in.

Professionalism is a form of social organization (Freidson, 2001) and, more precisely, a mode of regulation (Crompton, 1990; Kirkpatrick et al., 2021), not only of work, but of the whole society. Gender and sex, although separate concepts, are intrinsically linked. Gender, usually dichotomized, is a fundamental category of everyday life and it orders the world even in a moral sense (Garfinkel, 1984; Smith, 1990); however, it is a “‘seen-but-unnoticed’ quality” (Hicks, 2015: 471).

Therefore, the objective of the article is twofold: on the one hand, to propose an original—theoretical—contribution on a nexus yet to be fully explored and understood: the professionalism-gender one; on the other hand, to take seriously the challenge of creating, with respect to this issue, a platform for political activism.

Regarding the first objective, the novelty of this article resides in developing a unitary interpretive framework built on the basis of different research and literature streams: (1) the old, but unresolved, debate on (gendered ethics of) care; (2) the body work that still does not have adequate space in the mainstream sociology of work; (3) the echoes of studies on professionalism and its possible evolutions; and (4) street-level bureaucracy literature. The result of this work of theoretical integration is the proposal to consider gender as a “professional practice ideology.” A further value of this article is that it is not only devoted to developing a comprehensive framework as an original contribution to important debates and controversies, but it suggests directions for a research agenda by identifying the narratives of professionals as the methodological key to open the “professionalism-gender” black box.

Of course the article adopts a feminist perspective, but it is neither aligned nor orthodox, in particular with reference to the so-called “ethics of care” (see section “The myth of gender commonality”). This aspect constitutes a provocative trait with regard to feminist studies themselves, rekindling a debate that needs to transcend sectoral boundaries. The purpose is to open a dialog capable of involving a wider and multidisciplinary audience, meeting the challenge of diversity on an issue, that one of professionalism and gender, which has global relevance, albeit with contextual differences. Indeed, in an increasingly globalized world, gender is a key “vector in the distribution of power and resources” (Fernández Kelly, 1994: 249).

Regarding the second objective, the article, through its analysis and arguments, undoubtedly supports the need of political engagement, resistance, and activism on the gender-professionalism nexus, but—above all—it advances reflections about, and proposals for, political action, identifying as a strategy the promotion of a new academic professionalism, especially for social scientists.

The sections of the paper are organized as follows. “The COVID-19 pandemic crisis as a revealing context” section shows how the pandemic crisis is a “focusing event” capable of making visible and bringing back to the center of attention hidden social dynamics that need action. The second and third sections (“Care professions and genderization” and “Asymmetries between and within professions”) illustrate the social mechanisms of attribution of sex and gender to professions, especially those of care, which give rise to structures of inequality. In particular, the third section highlights how, at the origin of these hierarchical, different and interconnected variables act: not only gender, but also class, ethnicity, age, health status, sexual orientation, etc. The fourth, fifth, and sixth sections (“Two meanings of care,” “Two kinds of body work,” “Two kinds of professionalism and citizen-user”) present the coordinates of the model resulting from the theoretical integration mentioned above, that are represented by two polar meanings of care and body work, as well as two conceptions of professionalism and citizenship. “The myth of gender commonality” section argues how, contrary to what some feminist scholars maintain, the (only) gender commonality of “female” professions is not a solution to inequalities. The “Gender as professional practice ideology” section contains in the title the core of our analytical proposal: considering how genderization is achieved and maintained in professional practices can contribute to the deconstruction of stereotypes and dominance structures based on gender itself. The “Narratives as an entry point” section presents the advantages of using the narratives of professionals as a strategy for exploring the nexus between gender and professionalism. The following section (“A research agenda even beyond the pandemic crisis: images and storytelling”) provides some conclusive remarks on a such research project conducted through the narratives of professionals not only in times of pandemic, supporting the value of adding storytelling to images as symbolic sites of power struggles. Finally, the “Action: starting from the self, here and now” section focuses on the ways to fight the genderization of professions, identifying as a first concrete action to be taken by scholars to become reflective practitioners of their own professional practice ideology and agents of change of professionalism in academia.

The COVID-19 pandemic crisis as a revealing context

The relevance of the gender variable in professionalism emerges even more strongly in the COVID-19 pandemic crisis as an extra-ordinary revealing context of social dynamics, especially in welfare and care. The health and social crisis “stage” has brought the world of the professions back to the center of public discourse: VAT professionals, because of the need to receive compensation; teachers, because of the challenge of distance learning; intellectual professions (academics, virologists, epidemiologists, etc.), because of their expected ability to analyze and predict the spreading of the infection and its socio-economic consequences; finally, the so-called social and health professionals, who are at the forefront of the battle against the pandemic and its effects.

Yet the spotlights differently illuminated all these professionals: in the limelight, intellectual experts (with few exceptions, men); celebrated as heroes, health professionals (first and foremost, physicians, but everyone also mentioned nurses; however, forgetting other figures). Despite the inclusive homage to the categories of the socio-healthcare world, social work professionals remained in the backstage, while likewise facing the devastating social and economic consequences of the pandemic crisis.

Exactly this “differential in visibility,” which reflects structures of inequality between and within professions, points to the relevance of the link between gender and professionalism, read in the light of categories such as power and status. In fact, gender is a variable able to explain a significant part of these structures of inequality in professionalism. Gender is also the key to understanding the lack of visibility of some professionals, including social workers, in general and even more in a context such as the pandemic one which should have demonstrated the importance of the contribution of all the actors involved.

To date, numerous studies have documented how the pandemic revealed and exacerbated some disparities present in society, functioning as an “accelerator of inequalities” (Fisher et al., 2020; Cataldi et al., 2022). Specifically, the evidence on the negative impact of the COVID-19 pandemic in terms of gender inequality is globally robust and consolidated (inter al. Wenham et al., 2020). However, the article does not concentrate on the pandemic, but rather start from it as a “focusing event” (Birkland, 1998; DeLeo et al., 2021; Kingdon, 1984) which, causing an “[re-]discovery of the problem” (Downs, 1972), opens up the opportunity and shows the urgency to bring the gender-professionalism issue back to the center of the debate, as well as to take action on this front.

Care professions and genderization

It is generally accepted that professions have an ethical and democratic mission as they have a double function: protecting public interest and producing collective goods and services (Jennings et al., 1987). Thus, all professions have a strong vocational and advocacy value, that is, caring for society, and this should apply even more to the welfare professions (Hugman, 2005).

If it is acknowledged that professionalism is not gender neutral and usually responds to a male archetype (Connell, 1987; Kotkin, 1995: 157; Sang et al., 2014), some scholars point out that care is a purely “feminine” value and profession. However, even strictly caring professions, such as social and health care, are not all “feminized.” The medical profession has long been the domain of men; while, for example, nursing and social work professions are predominantly female.

In this article, the term “feminization” means the process of construction, attribution and reproduction of a female connotation, usually associated with the majority or incipient presence of women in a given profession. Indeed, a distinction should be made between feminization tout court, that is, incipient (see medical profession), and feminization ab origine (see nursing and social work professions).

The process of genderization is a social construct, a fictio, which takes shape through two levels and two (false) beliefs. The first level is the attribution of a sex to objects and phenomena that are not living organisms (such as professions); the second level is the consequential and contextual attribution of a gender. With respect to beliefs, the first one is the idea that sex and gender are dichotomous: male and female, masculine and feminine. The second one is that sex and gender are not categorical, but rather ordinal variables: male is more than female, feminine is less than masculine. Precisely the fact that genderization results from the intersection of all these dimensions explains why sex and gender are often used interchangeably in the society, as well as in academic research, albeit they are different. Sex reflects biological (chromosomal and hormonal) differences, associated with reproductive organs and functions; while gender insists on the socially constructed distinction between men and women that produces the categories of masculinity and femininity. Moreover, sex and gender are not at all binary, but fluid (Short et al., 2013). As masculine and feminine do not exhaust the gender (Butler, 2004: 42), so “variations in chromosomes, hormone levels, and reproductive organs result in more than 2 sexes” (Short et al., 2013: 94). Ultimately, not only gender but also sex itself, which is perceived as its “logical prius,” is socially constructed.

Asymmetries between and within professions

The previous section showed the attribution mechanisms that construct the genderization of professions. Instead, this section outlines how genderization gives rise to hierarchical structures between and within professions in which status and power are central elements. Furthermore, starting from an intersectional perspective, it highlights how gender is interconnected with and indistinguishable from other variables.

Medical and social work professions are paradigmatic case studies of the complex connection between profession, gender, status, and power. The social process of assigning gender to professions is inevitably linked to the idea of status and power (Crompton, 1987), producing hierarchical structures: according to the socio-historical categorization, the medical profession is male and dominant, while the social work profession, as well as the nursing one, is female and subordinate.

With reference to genderization of professions as organizational forms of society, it is then important to do what Brewis et al. (2014: 306) suggest about sexuality and organization: developing an analysis aimed at bringing out the underlying logics of “categorization, classification and hierarchical ordering.”

Power asymmetries do not only affect relations between professions, but also occur within them: among professionals themselves, and between professionals and clients, following intersectional (Crenshaw, 1989) fracture lines such as sex, gender, sexual orientation, age, class, ethnicity, and health status. In fact, as Ferguson (1994: 90) notes, these variables “cannot be neatly separated from one another.”

In the words of Hearn (1996: 612), “focusing on [gender,] race, sex and class, and their various interconnexions [. . .] raises an additional agenda – the deconstruction of the dominant.” From an intersectionality perspective, “deconstructing the dominant” means identifying mechanisms and logics of hierarchization of the society, centers of power, as well as who is superordinate and who is subordinate, “making clearer the social construction of ‘men’, of ‘whiteness’, of ‘able-bodiedness’, and so on” (Hearn, 1996: 614).

Thus, the analysis proposed here adopts intersectionality as a fundamental theoretical lens, with a specific research mission: breaking open “the set of hermeneutic spaces, linguistic practices, and political agendas that are coded in decipherable ways by gender, race and class,” etc. (Ferguson, 1994: 90; also cit. in Mir and Zanoni, 2021). Indeed, actively engaging in the disentanglement of this (intersectional) “conundrum of dominance” (Hearn, 1996: 615) is more urgent than ever in today’s society.

Two meanings of care

Once the genderization of professions has been presented in its mechanisms and consequences, this and the next two sessions illustrate the polar coordinates of the theoretical model that derives from the application of a “gender lens” to care professionalism.

The consideration of the nexus between professionalism and gender in the light of the categories of status and power is precisely what reveals the existence of two different meanings of the concept of care.

Care, as a human service, is a co-production process, because it requires a substantive contribution from the recipient to be produced (Ostrom, 1986). This contribution can be generated through spontaneous or induced “collaboration.” In fact, there are two polar meanings of care: “therapy” and “caring as to care for” (Tronto, 1998). This distinction largely echoes the distinction between to cure and to care, which also has profound philosophical implications, for example in medicine (Stegenga, 2018).

If care as therapy does not exclude a certain coercive authority by the regular producer (Parks et al., 1981), caring is more properly configured as spontaneous co-production. Only the latter kind of care has a “feminine” vocation, while the former is generally associated with a “masculine” gender role. The legitimacy of care as therapy lies in the recognition of the existence of competences, by the professional, so specialized as to appear esoteric to laymen (Hughes, 1963); while caring presupposes softer legitimization levers, such as the ability to develop empathic relationships with users-recipients (Moudatsou et al., 2020). As Gair (2011: 329) openly acknowledges “empathy is considered to be a crucial ingredient in social work practice,” as well as a purely feminine relational quality (Greeno et al., 2018; van Ryn et al., 2014). In fact, “this is the result of gender ideologies which portray care work as something requiring few skills that all women and girls are able to do” (Esplen, 2009: 7 - cit. in Smith, 2022: 356).

Although emotional labor (Bolton and Boyd, 2003; Hochschild, 1983; Kang, 2003) is an inherent component of all care work, and more generally of all jobs that involve direct and continuous contact with the public (Maynard-Moody and Musheno, 2000; Maynard-Moody and Portillo, 2010), dealing with the emotional dimension becomes essential only in “feminine” care professions. Actually, these considerations do not only apply to care, but all professions: as Polletta and Tufail (2016: 402) point out, “women are expected to demonstrate solicitousness, nurturance, and comfort in jobs ranging from nursing to car sales.”

Instead, in therapy, coping with emotional labor and demands (Guy et al., 2008) is considered accessory, if not “unprofessional” (Nettleton et al., 2008). Indeed, in the archetypal (male) professionalism there is an idea of bureaucratic impersonality that relegates emotions and the resulting dilemmas to the sidelines. In the words of Bolton and Muzio (2008: 283) “to be (or to aspire to be) a professional is ‘to do’ gender; to comply with behavioral and interactional norms that celebrate and sustain a masculine vision of what it is to be a professional thus marginalizing the ‘feminine’”.

Two kinds of body work

The two different meanings of care are also reflected in body work (Twigg, 2000) as a component of care work that needs to be taken into account.

Here, we define body work as a work on the body of others (Gimlin, 2007; Twigg, 2006; Wolkowitz, 2002, 2006), that is, a work that “focuses directly on the bodies of others: assessing, diagnosing, handling, manipulating, and monitoring bodies, that thus become the object of the worker’s labor” (Twigg et al., 2011: 171). As Cohen (2011: 191) points out in the wake of Kang (2010), these activities go beyond what is more properly called body labor, understood as “work that is sold for a wage or commodified,” since they include all paid and unpaid work on another person’s body. In this manuscript, although a few examples related to voluntary and family care work will be proposed, we will focus mainly on paid work, given the specific focus on professions.

Body work is not an undifferentiated whole but, like care, has two polar meanings: work on the body and work with the body. In general, body work involves the co-presence of bodies (Cohen, 2011; McDowell, 2009; Twigg et al., 2011): the body of the professional and the body of the user. However, in the first (ideal) type of body work, which is closely associated with the meaning of care as therapy, the two different bodies involved do not equally come into play, and the encounter between the two is, so to speak, limited: the professional intervenes on the body of the other (the user) reducing bodily exposure as much as possible, using only a distal part, usually the hands or even a single finger, adopting emotional, cognitive and behavioral distancing devices and strategies (Twigg, 2000). A paradigmatic example are doctors who wear gowns and plastic gloves to examine and manipulate the patient, delegating as much as possible the direct work on the body to nurses or other types of subordinate care assistants. Furthermore, doctors maintain the relationship with the patient on a strictly formal level and rely on rational and abstract schemes in the choice of treatment paths, disregarding the human specificities of the person in front of them.

The second (ideal) type of body work, that is, work with the body, is associated with care as taking care for. In this case, both bodies, the body of the professional and the body of the user, are equally part of the caring relationship. The availability of the service provider’s body is indeed essential to the goals of support and help. In this respect, work with the body is more properly work through the body and between bodies. A clear example are caregiver professionals. However, nurses, midwives and social workers continue to have an important body work component too.

Working with and between bodies requires the above-mentioned soft skills: as the Code of Ethics for Social Work (British Association of Social Workers, 2014) states, professionals should act with integrity and treat people with compassion, empathy and care.

The different conceptions of body work therefore reflect stereotyped social constructions of masculinity and femininity. In the words of Gallos (1989: 115–116), male and female development follows two different directions: for men, it passes through “autonomy and separations from others as a means of strengthening identity, empowering the self,” while for women through “attachments and relationships” that play a central role in their identity.

A crucial aspect of body work is that it is often understood as “dirty work” (Cohen and Wolkowitz, 2018; Isaksen, 2002; McDowell, 2009; Twigg, 2000, 2006). This is the reason why there is the use of distancing devices and why, in general, there is a systematic delegation to subordinate working figures. The process of “tertiarization,” that is, outsourcing the dirty work of caring for the body to third parties, is also evident in professions ideally dedicated to working with the body: the dirty work is not only delegated by doctors to nurses, but also by nurses, midwives and social workers to occupational figures who are not recognized as being equally professional. Indeed, “dirty work is often devolved to marginalized social groups resulting in intersections of multiple marginalized identities (e.g. gender, class, caste, race, ethnicity, and nationality)” (Mendonca et al., 2022: 3).

Ultimately, body work is a criterion of hierarchization between professions: the more a profession has undergone a process of strengthening and institutionalization, the more the “body” dimension becomes latent, reproducing, through the delegation mechanism, the process of hierarchization between professions largely centered on gender, which is the focus of this reflection.

Two kinds of professionalism and citizen-user

The two meanings of care and body work can be related to different, and ideally opposing, conceptions of the recipient, that is, the citizen user, as well as different understandings of professionalism itself. A more classical understanding of professionalism seems more consistent with an idea of care as therapy (cure) and the so-called Marshallian citizen, as a passive, compliant and grateful client (Powell et al., 2009). While, a new type of professionalism would seem to be oriented toward a broader meaning of care (understood as caring), aimed at the so-called Athenian citizen, that is, an active, “participatory” and informed citizen (Powell et al., 2009).

The idea of a citizen who is more or less active, or more or less passive, brings into play a significant transformation in recent times, which goes under the label of consumerism in its two opposite conceptions, the more market-oriented one, based on the consumer as “king” (Edwards, 2000) and “chooser” (Gabriel and Lang, 2006), and the “democratic” one, which opens the door to participationism (Evers, 2006). Both impact on the idea of professionalism in its more classical sense in which the client is dependent on the professional, even if in different ways. Although the consumerist turn, in both meanings, places the recipient in a more emancipated position, it should be recognized that the relationship between professional and recipient remains asymmetrical.

However, understanding care as co-production has the advantage of illuminating less visible, but equally relevant, situations that show how the power relations between professional and user are not necessarily unidirectional. It is not unusual for power relations to be overturned, especially where care is understood as an altruistic act and, ultimately, as an act of annulment of the self of the provider (Pettersen, 2012). As Twigg et al. (2011: 172) note with reference to body work, the position of the professional is ambivalent in relation to power: the worker can be both “an exerciser of Foucauldian biopower” and “a demeaned body servant.” An example are the sometimes-difficult relationships between professional or family caregivers and pretentious care receivers. This example highlights the nexus between status, power and gender with specific reference to, but not limited to, professions. Similar cases apply to family caregivers or female carers, but definitely not to high-status professionals, such as doctors. As suggested by Vandenbroeck and Peeters (2008: 704–705), “carers were [are] traditionally recruited from women of the lower classes and their profession was [is] based on and legitimated by stereotypical constructions of the ideal/mother.” In the harsh words of Tronto (1993: 21 and 113), historically, care “has mainly been the work of slaves, servants, and women.”

The myth of gender commonality

This section has a critical focus on an issue that is central to the so-called ethics of care, as an unavoidable reference in the analysis of gender and care professionalism. Indeed, it discusses some feminist positions that interpret gender commonality as a guarantee of equality and a bulwark against injustice.

Some authors (inter al. Dominelli and McLeod, 1989; Hanmer and Statham, 1999) have argued that (ab-origine) feminized professions, such as social work, are characterized by more equal – if not non-hierarchical – relationships, not only between professionals but also with users. These positions derive from the Gilligan’s (1982) work according to which women have a different ethical and moral sensitivity than men. This difference would lead women to support a concept of collective and community, rather than individual, justice. In this wake, the sharing of experiences as women and the substantial gender “commonality” would favor a process of empowerment resolving conflicts and power asymmetries.

These positions have been severely criticized. First, not all women and men replicate the same patterns of moral judgment (Kotkin, 1995). Second, gender is not a static characteristic (MacKinnon, 1987), and is not the only determining variable (Hicks, 2015), but it acts and retroacts, as we have seen, on and with other variables. Third, gender commonality does not necessarily produce “positive” automatisms (Hicks, 2015), and the concept of empowerment itself not only shows the actual asymmetry between helper and client, but it can hide paternalistic dynamics (Buchanan, 2000, 2008; Christensen and Hewitt-Taylor, 2006). Additionally, social work is not an entirely female world, but “is more correctly described as a female majority, male-dominated profession” (McPhail, 2004: 325). In fact, the minority of men often holds higher hierarchical positions, benefiting from their numerically minority status (Simpson, 2004). Finally, is not at all obvious that professional women are aware of the pervasiveness and relevance of gender categorization, as well as of their own agency capacity on this front. Studies and evidence on this point are urgently needed, considering that, as noted by White (2006: 3), the accounts of social workers’ experiences may reflect “fluid, sometimes fragile or even non-existent” feminist identities. As noted by Sang et al. (2014: 249) “gendered hegemony has become naturalized, with the acceptance and complicity of women.”

Starting from this admission can be a first step toward what Hearn (1996: 615–616) calls “the deconstruction of the dominated,” which is as important as that one of the dominant, in building a “new” society.

Gender as professional practice ideology

The validity of the criticisms presented in the previous section invites to open the “gender-professionalism” black box: exploring and analyzing the processes of construction, assignment and reproduction of gender between and within professions are needed. For this purpose, it is essential to overcome certain preconceptions according to which gender is “given,” “binary,” “unmodifiable,” as well as “the only determining variable.” While it is necessary to welcome the intersectionality lesson, the materialist and structuralist suggestions that highlight the relevance of institutional constraints, as well as the insights both of postmodern theories and ethnomethodological tradition (Hicks, 2015).

The aim of such research project cannot be separated from the consideration of gender as situated in the social and organizational context, and therefore susceptible to transformation. Starting from these considerations, an original proposal is advanced in this section: investigating gender as a professional “practice ideology” (Hasenfeld, 2000), that is, as a set of ideas underlying evaluation and processing of users, but also other professionals, giving rise to “categories” that are resistant to change and re-evaluation (Handler, 1996): stereotyped representations which reproduce power and inequality dynamics (see, inter al., Davies, 1996). Considering how genderization is achieved and maintained in professional practices can contribute to the deconstruction of the stereotypes and the dominance structures based on gender itself.

Furthermore, the concept of gender as professional practice ideology can refresh and fill the discussion of the ethics of care with new—also empirical—content. The ethics of care debate is undoubtedly not new, but it is still unresolved, especially with regard to the key issue of the alleged female vocation of care and its possible consequences, especially in terms of justification of the status quo, that is, unacceptable inequalities. An open-minded dialog on this point is needed, not only within feminist studies, but in social sciences in general, and in organizational analysis in particular.

Narratives as an entry point

This section addresses ways to explore the nexus between gender and professionalism in a research agenda that focuses on gender as a professional practice ideology.

A promising strategy is the study of gendered practices, through discursive ones. Narratives, indeed, are—individual or collective—discursive constructs that interconnect sets of ideas. Ideas represent cognitive orderings of the material world, since they postulate causal relations between phenomena and objects. In their “narrative” and “discursive” forms, they fulfill a double function of “sense-making” and “legitimization”: actors construct stories that give meaning not only to the social world (Weick et al., 2005), but also to their actions and identities (van Hulst and Tsoukas, 2021). Narratives are contingent constructs that originate from and are implemented in practice. Ultimately, they put at the center the agency of the actors, considering their interests, resources, and representations (Cataldi and Cappellato, 2020).

Storytelling can both justify the status quo and facilitate change processes, highlighting collective problems and proposing possible solutions. In this setting, narratives are an extraordinary source of information, since their systematic review can reveal aspects that are so embedded in social life as to be taken for granted, as well as detect changes in progress. Moreover, narratives reveal the “messy” and “tangled” nature of the reality, that is its intersectionality.

Based on these considerations, the same narratives of professionals—intended as representations of practices and self-representations of professional and gender identities—are the key to open the black box.

With regard to the use of narratives as the main research tool on the professionalism-gender nexus, it seems fruitful to adopt a neo-institutionalist, constructivist and postmodernist perspective (inter al. Hay, 2004; Schmidt, 2010). Adopting such these theoretical lenses means focusing on the situated agency (Bevir, 2012; Bevir and Rhodes, 2006; see also van Hulst and Tsoukas, 2021) of professionals, considering gender as a social construct, and being aware that the language does not simply reflect reality, but contributes to defining and reproducing it, constructing knowledge (Gannon and Davies, 2012). Indeed, gender has a performative sense, since it consists of a “reiterative and citational practice by which discourse produces the effects it names” (Butler, 2011: XII). In the Butler’s Foucauldian approach, not only the “discourse transmits and produces power” (Foucault, 1990: 101), but “constructs subject positions and identities” (Laine et al., 2016). Thus, narratives are crucial for exploring the construction of the (gendered) professional identity in practice.

Choosing narratives as an entry point also corresponds to a precise ethical option in research: to give individuals, as surveyed units, the faculty of speech and back-talk. Here, back-talk is to be intended as a reflective practice (Schön, 1983) on both sides, that of the narrator and the researcher ones, however, leaving the responsibility for the final interpretation to the latter. In this perspective, research is more properly understood as a work with the “object” and not only on the “object,” truly implementing the idea of co-production of knowledge.

A research agenda even beyond the pandemic crisis: images and storytelling

The previous section focused on the advantages of using professionals’ narratives as a methodological key to open the black box of gender and professionalism. This section sums up the relevance of the proposed research project, highlighting its value in both pandemic and ordinary times.

The core idea of such research project on gender and professionalism is to make visible what is not, because it is taken for granted, adopting an explicit strategy of “deconstruction of the dominant” (Hearn, 1996): gender as a social category producing hierarchization between and within professions, and thus in the society.

Making explicit what is taken for granted, as well as identifying mechanisms and logics of power, is an unavoidable task for those who want to develop a critical analysis of the society and organizations (Parker and Thomas, 2011). To date, this is still a feat to be accomplished. Indeed, as Hearn (1996: 612) states “social phenomena and social arrangements, such as organizations, are characterized by dominance and centers of dominance, yet those dominant centers are themselves avoided as serious object of study in social science in general and organization theory in particular.”

Bringing out the logics of “categorization, classification and hierarchical ordering” (Brewis et al., 2014: 306), underlying the genderization of professions is an essential step for understanding the professionalism itself and its possible—but not obvious—evolutions (Kirkpatrick et al., 2021), especially in the direction of the development of a “new professionalism” (Evetts, 2011), more inclusive, open and democratic, as a challenge for the welfare professions.

Investigating the link between professionalism and gender is not only a sociological issue, nor is it only a matter of economic sociology as it concerns occupational figures. It is, indeed, a matter of social justice and politics, not only because of the “continuing significance of ‘professionalism’ as a mode of regulation” (Crompton, 1990: 147) of the society, but also because the professionalism-gender nexus is a power issue related to worldviews (Weltanschauungen) which affect both everyday life, that is, civil society, and the institutional sphere. The responsibility of institutions is to be aware of the structures of inequality centered on gender and professionalism and to act to remove them through specific policies.

Both gender and individuals’ agency, in our case that one of the narrating professionals, should be considered as elements situated in organizational and institutional, but also historical and social contexts. An obstacle to research in ordinary times is precisely the embeddedness of the patriarchal culture that permeates the collective subconscious, and that lies behind the processes of hierarchization and production of structures of inequality based on the attribution of a dominant or subordinate gender to the professions and, therefore, in everyday society.

As mentioned in the second section, the pandemic crisis represents a revealing context of social dynamics, including underground ones such as those connecting gender and professionalism. In the real show of the pandemic crisis, like on TV medical dramas, doctors dominate discussions around health policy issue, while “nurses, social workers, and other members of the health care team hardly existed in policy scenes” (Darbyshire, 2009). Therefore, the crisis represents exactly that extra-ordinary context that makes the ordinary visible.

The symbolic images of the pandemic witness the pervasiveness of gender stereotypes and archetypes. One example among all is the angel-heroine-nurse, wearing gown, gloves and mask, who cradles an infantilized Italy wrapped in the State flag. The image was donated to a branch of the armed forces and was posted on various social networks. To journalist Grazia Longo (2020, La Stampa) who asked the author of the drawing: “How did you come up with such a drawing?” and “Why a woman?,” the artist replied: “The woman best represents who takes care and look after of someone in difficulty and need. [. . .] The wings on the woman’s shoulders are obviously those of an angel, exactly because the health workers are our guardian angels.”

Recently, some studies have been carried out on images before and during the pandemic crisis, particularly in relation to nurses. They outline that there is a substantial continuity in the iconography of nurses portrayed as “selfless angels with pretty faces” (Darbyshire, 2009). Indeed, the occupational image is always influenced by popular culture and informed by the media, constructing stereotypes, and even stigmas, in relation to professionals (Grandy and Mavin, 2012). Certainly, iconographic representations are not neutral: as Stokes-Parish et al. (2020) argue, “hero and angel constructs undermine the professionalism of the nursing workforce, and reinforces the perception that nursing is an innately feminine, nurturing role.” After all, images are significant sites of “symbolic struggles” between social groups (Swan, 2010: 78 and 95): they convey and strengthen power dynamics.

Thus, adding a storytelling to these images, through the narratives of those who are portrayed, that is, the professionals, means taking up the challenge of doing contemporary social research, revealing gender stereotypes, and actively contributing to their deconstruction.

Action: Starting from the self, here, and now

In the previous sections, an analytical narrative on gender and professionalism was developed and a research agenda was proposed. But, what concrete actions can be taken to dismantle gender stereotypes related to professions and professionalism? This concluding section addresses exactly this question, starting with what academics can do.

Some scholars would argue that political commitment of an academic is primarily critical analysis, that is, unveiling inequalities, injustices and all that makes the society undemocratic. Such a position recalls, among others, the reflections of Weber (“Politics as a Vocation” and “Science as a Vocation”) and Arendt (“Truth and Politics”): the scholar should be as rigorous and neutral as possible, rather than ideological. However, if academics recognize the urgency to change the world, such a conception is not enough. The risk is not only that social scientists become “morticians, all too eager to bury men’s hopes” (Gouldner, 1955: 507—this was the criticism addressed by the scholar to Selznick), but that, beyond the analytical commitment, they accept the world as it is, making themselves involuntarily complicit in the reproduction of the status quo.

With respect to the idea that the only critical analysis is sufficient to fulfill the academic mission, there are two fallacious assumptions: first, that the knowledge produced by academics can actually be neutral; second, that it has a direct impact on policy making and, therefore, on societal change. Indeed, the dynamics of social change are much more complex than the alleged information-action causal link, from scholars to policy makers. Moreover, the academia is not an abstract idea, but is an organization, an institution, made up and inhabited of flesh and blood people with (different) preferences, tastes and values. Above all, the ideal of an intellectual as a—neutral, impartial and detached—generator (and provider) of knowledge (Gardner et al., 2021: 3) for the society is susceptible to a strong criticism: that one of paternalism. “Informing” policy makers and public opinion may conceal a superordinate conception of the intellectual-scholar.

Due to these criticisms, many are those who extend the mission of the academics to forms of advocacy to be exercised within their own work environment. Academic advocacy often takes the form of public engagement activities, with respect, first and foremost, to the local community and, sometimes, to society at a global level, on issues such as racism, hidden colonialism, climate change and, of course, gender. Such forms are not only conditioned by the so called neo-liberal funding and performance-based incentives (inter al. Brackmann, 2015), but often settle on levels of participation referable to tokenism (Arnstein, 1969).

Again, if the aim is transformative action, this kind of engagement is not enough. A more direct form of action, and perhaps less susceptible to criticism in a paternalistic sense, is action research (Lewin, 1946), as long as it is understood not only as “research with the object” and co-production of knowledge (see section “Narratives as an entry point”), but as research for (and to change) society, that is, transformative research (Mertens et al., 2009).

However, a further effort is required: academic activism ‘extends beyond our role as researchers; it applies to our public lives [. . .]. If engaged scholarship and similar approaches are about the production of knowledge, academic activism is about acting [. . .] outside the research context” (Gardner et al., 2021: 4–5). In other words, activism by academics also requires co-producing the transformative action of society within society itself. If “we believe that with knowledge comes responsibility” (Gardner et al., 2021: 2), then academics should assume and integrate the dual role of scholar and citizen activist, recognizing themselves as citizens among and with others.

In a feminist perspective, “the public is personal and the personal is public”: in order to change society, it is necessary to start from the self, here and now. According to intersectionality’s insights “the individual is an intersectional self, or even multiple selves, where structures of subordination but also of agency converge” (Anderson et al., 2020). “Here” and “now” are instead the two essential dimensions, spatial and temporal, of the situated agency of individuals as a key element in expanding the conception of social choice in terms of participation and inclusion in the democratic system (Peter, 2003) and exploring their decisions and actions “under an unequal gender order, drawing on the ambiguity of human existence to avoid binaries of freedom or constraint, subject or object, actor or victim” (Vera-Gray, 2016: 52).

So, “starting from the self, here and now” means that academics should bring their intersectionality and multiple belongings into play in their agency, in everyday life contexts, including workplaces, from now. A first step in this direction is to question their identity as a traditional academics and to become agents of change in their work and professionalism, actively promoting structural changes (Bencivenga and Drew, 2021) and new ways of doing science and academia (see Bisaillon et al., 2020).

There are few, and not fruitful for social analysis, doubts about the fact that academic work can be considered a profession (it has almost all the required constellation of characteristics) and, specifically, a welfare profession widely understood.

Regarding the genderization of the academic profession revealed by the under-representation of women in science careers worldwide (Avolio et al., 2020), it is unrealistic to expect a positive change, both in terms of structural transformation and practice ideology, by virtue of the only increasing entry of women into academia. Certainly, the academic profession has long been the domain of men, while female academics are now more numerous. Yet not only academia largely remains a male-dominated profession (see, inter al., O’Connor, 2020), but its incipient feminization is entirely consistent with the perduring, albeit changing, genderization of society. The increased presence of women is the result of at least two false beliefs that reveal the interpenetration of gender and power: first, that academic job is suitable for women because, thanks to its presumed flexibility, it allows for greater work-family conciliation; second, that women are better able to endure long academic training or, better, precariousness, since they can count on men who provide support for their economic maintenance and self-realization. Furthermore, women who enter into academia are largely the expression of specific patterns of intersectionality: most of them are white, western and bourgeois women. Their precariousness in the academic career is at the same time evidence of privilege and factor of systematic marginalization.

A radical change requires action on several fronts. Firstly, academics should become reflective practitioners (Schön, 1983) of their own professional practice ideology, that is, the practices of creating, maintaining and reproducing stereotypes, in this case of gender, in their work. Action on this point is urgently needed, considering that the “Queen bee” (Ellemers et al., 2004), or better the (complex) “self-group distancing” phenomenon still exists in academia (Faniko et al., 2021) among women themselves.

Becoming critical observers and transformative agents of gendered professional ideology is a first step toward the second, core, action: developing a new professionalism, hopefully more inclusive and democratic (see Dzur, 2021), as well as defined “not in terms of status and self-regulation, but in terms of values and practices” (Nixon et al., 2001: 234). A professionalism that aims to be relational, capable of horizontal learning, dialoguing and inspired by an ethos of service to the society as a whole. Indeed, fundamental is the capacity of academics as (new) professionals “to listen to, learn from, and move forward with the communities they serve” (Nixon et al., 2001: 234). Such professional reorientation requires academics “to re-conceive and radically re-adjust the relation between their own ‘small world’ of professional interests and wider public interests of the world ‘out there’” (Nixon et al., 2001: 237).

Under these conditions there is a good chance that academics, not just women, will construct a new academic profession that can be itself an organizational and ideational platform for political activism, and even radical politics, with respect to the gender-professionalism issue, that cannot in any way be separated from other ones such as racism, ableism, ageism, etc.

On these fronts, engagement and action are required, as scholars and individuals who participate in the res publica (Athenian citizens): building a better and fairer society is at stake.