Beyond the pink veneer

New research shows that women are buying and using more tech than men. So why is it still such a boys' club?

Last month, market intelligence firm Parks Associates released a study with shattering news: women buy more tech than men — and then use it more. According to the study, more women were interested in tablets, laptops and smartphones; women bought more gadgets on average; and, once the devices were in hand, more women were using them to watch movies, listen to music, interact online and play social games.

So why aren't tech manufacturers getting with the program? Why are they merely tossing us a pink veneer now and again, like some sort of placatory gesture, while the bulk of their marketing — some of it hugely misogynist — is directed at men?

Don't get me wrong. I don't care that there's a pink option. In fact, I'm so cool with it, my eyes just froze over. There's absolutely nothing wrong with having choices.

What's wrong is when one particular option is marketed in such a specifically gendered fashion that it leaves no room to think anything other than that you're being stereotyped and pigeonholed. And, when you distinguish one thing as being exclusively for girls, you are effectively stating that everything else, by default, is for men. Men are the main demographic. Women are the afterthought.

For example, let's take a look at Lego's new "Friends" line, which is being marketed to girls.

Lego announced the line late last year, after four years of research into What Women Want (or girls, in this case). Apparently, girls want pink. And they want nicely sculpted figures with waists and hair. And they want to be able to create a narrative as well as a play environment.

Is there anything wrong with this? Well, no, not really. But it's problematic if we assume that it's all girls want, or even that all girls want it. Why? Because it sets us up — all of us — to be put into neat little boxes where further assumptions can be made — such as "Women can't be logical thinkers" and "Men can't have emotions".

Now, Lego isn't explicitly saying that girls can only play with the Friends line, or that boys can't. But it sort of doesn't have to. All the promotional photography shows only girls playing with the Friends line, and only boys playing with everything else. It sends a few messages: one, that girls should only play with "girly" toys; two, that boys aren't allowed to like telling stories or soft colours; and three, that, even with four years of research, the best solution for providing a product for girls is "moar pink". There. Job done.

Europe's Nintendo 3DS bundles were another fabulous example of segregating and pigeonholing girls. When the bundles were released, every colour was packaged with a copy of Super Mario Land 3D. Every colour, that is, except for the pink one. Whether or not Nintendo intended it this way, the implication was that, if you like pink, you must love puppies. If you like pink, an action game is not for you.

These narratives that we're fed about women and tech aren't necessarily bad in and of themselves — but nothing exists in a vacuum. They feed and confirm the perception that women are distinctly unsavvy when it comes to the tech that we buy and use.

Take, for instance, the lovely fellow who with great authority declared that women are primarily concerned with aesthetics over functionality, right here on CNET Australia. (A common attitude.) Or that I regularly open work emails addressed to "Michael" Starr. Or that shop assistants talk to my self-professed un-tech-minded gentleman friend even when he points out that I'm the one who knows what will best meet our requirements.

One of my friends is a programmer. The other day, she had to spend four hours fixing her system because one guy, not taking her seriously, decided that the protocols she provided were optional — and then he apologised to a man completely unrelated to the project. Another friend of mine designs training programs; she tells of how, when she was looking for a new Learning Management System, the presenters would gloss over her questions about hosting and scripting, instead telling her about the "pretty quizzes and certificates" she could make. Another friend, the sole woman in her university physics lab, was viewed as a kind of novelty mascot. Her work was constantly dismissed as of lesser importance than that of her male peers, and consequently allocated fewer resources — even to the point that the few resources she did have were often mysteriously removed to various colleagues' lab tables when her back was turned.

These are not isolated incidents.

Then there's Google, which assumes that because of my browsing patterns, I must be a man.

This is not an isolated incident.

Or the fact that I and several of my friends won't game online because some men find it hilarious to tear to pieces any woman who dares enter that space, or refuse to make accommodations for anyone who's not straight, white and male.

These are not isolated incidents.

Or the booth babes that populate every technology trade-show floor as a means of attracting the presumed male attendants. Not only is this insulting to men as well (suggesting that men are only interested in one thing), it alienates women on two levels: first, that we're not important enough to be catered for; and second, that our role should be limited to the purely ornamental.

I tell you these things because it paints a clear picture that women are seen as lesser, that women are constantly told we're too stupid for maths or computers or programming or gaming. That we're primarily concerned with "superficial" matters, such as how something looks, as opposed to how it operates, or how we can use it. That we're not wanted. That we don't belong.

And yet, according to the study "Towards Female Preferences in Design" (PDF), men are just as concerned with image as women. The study finds that, for both genders, simplicity and usability are of key concern; that both genders look for innovation and unique features. Aesthetic taste varies; "Men are more concerned with the overall structure of a product (such as its shape), whereas women are more driven to take notice of organic forms, details and textures. Both genders are in agreement when it comes to the theme of simplicity, but men seem to express this theme in accordance with image-driven characteristics, whereas women prefer simplicity to be of a practical nature."

We all want the same things from our gadgets. We want it to work. We want it to be easy to use. We want it to perform a variety of functions. We want it to appeal to our own aesthetic taste, whether that be the colour we have to look at when we use it, the image it conveys to those around us, or even how expensive it is.

And we, as women, want tech manufacturers to stop marginalising and codifying us as a fringe group, patronising us and making assumptions about what we want.