Girls just wanna be veterinarians

Chances are your local vet is a woman. The veterinary sector, as with other medical fields, has experienced a sharp rise in the number of women since the 1970s. This year female vets will overtake the number of male vets in Australia, if they haven’t already. In the US, no other profession has experienced as significant a gender shift.

The trend is underlined by student numbers at the seven Australian universities offering veterinary science programs.

At University of Queensland, 80 per cent of its 550 undergraduates are women. Australian Veterinary Association president Mark Lawrie says: “The numbers going through at an undergraduate level at some universities are at 90 per cent [female] or more.”

One explanation for this feminisation is that men are abandoning veterinary science to pursue careers in better paid professions. “Vets’ salaries have declined relative to other professions over the past decade or so and that’s led to a lot of males . . . seeking employment in the financial sector and places like that,” Lawrie says.

In NSW, remuneration for veterinary science graduates is lower than for teachers. Lawrie estimates $40,000 would be a typical starting salary and that after five years a young vet would be struggling to reach $70,000.

A report last year into the sector by National Australia Bank noted “veterinary graduates receive lower incomes than graduates from at least 12 other professional courses, most of which are shorter and have lower [academic] entry levels”. The same report quotes Access Economic figures stating average income for vets in 2006 was $61,464, with men averaging $71,500 and women $50,900. It’s hardly a compelling return on a rigorous six-year degree.

Veterinary work has changed from its traditional role of serving the agricultural sector. Now more than 75 per cent of consultations involve dogs and cats. This hasn’t eased the difficulty of maintaining veterinary services in rural areas, which Lawrie notes is about reduced demand as well as the exacting work, after-hours practice and isolation.

Veterinary practices are increasingly mirroring other medical fields. Advances in technology have encouraged the development of specialist vets such as cardiologists and oncologists, who provide services to pet owners who increasingly want their pets to have the same level of care as humans.

Health insurers such as Medibank Private and Manchester Unity now offer coverage for pets. The insurance uptake in Australia is only about 4 per cent but in Britain it’s closer to 30 per cent.

That so much veterinary work cares for cute pets is sometimes advanced as a reason women are attracted to the profession. But as Rachel Maines, from Cornell University in the US, points out: “Most of what veterinarians do isn’t about cute. Veterinary medicine, despite its modern hi-tech character, remains irreducibly bloody, messy and often hazardous.”

So why be a vet? Ian Robertson, dean of the veterinary science school at Murdoch University in Western Australia, suggests it’s about a willingness to contribute to society, a fondness for animals and the intellectual challenge of diagnosing a patient that can’t talk to you.

Maryanne Culliver, also at Murdoch, says school-leavers often mention a “wish to further the animal-human bond, to work together with people with their most important companion, their pet”. Later, in practice, they “have to work at hanging on to the good days . . . some days they . . . really wonder what they’ve done, other days they’ve got a good client, a good result [and] all is worthwhile.”