Almost every woman in medicine has experienced it: being called a “nurse.” Many brush it off as casual sexism, something too small to challenge. But in reality, this seemingly harmless mistake does more than dismiss the years of study, sacrifice, and sleepless nights required to earn the title of doctor; it also diminishes the role of nurses within the healthcare system.
Healthcare would collapse without nurses. They are the ones who know each patient’s story, who spend hours at the bedside providing care long after others have left the ward. They find compassion and humanity for patients – even when they themselves are running on empty. Nursing is one of the most demanding roles in healthcare, yet it remains deeply undervalued by society and, at times, even by those within the profession.
For centuries, women have had to fight to be seen as equals to men. When a woman in scrubs is automatically assumed to be a nurse, it reflects an outdated belief that positions of authority in medicine still belong to men. It suggests that even today, women must prove they belong in roles that men are simply assumed to hold.
But the problem runs deeper than that.
Using “nurse” as the default role for women unintentionally reinforces the idea that nursing is somehow lesser than being a doctor. Nothing could be further from the truth. Nurses are the backbone of healthcare. They are the ones who teach medical students and junior doctors, who guide new interns through the realities of patient care, and they ensure that medicine functions not just as a science but as a compassionate practice.
History itself shows the courage and strength embedded in the nursing profession. Edith Cavell was executed by firing squad during World War I because she treated soldiers from both sides of the conflict without discrimination. She honoured the Hippocratic oath with her whole being and was rewarded with the searing pain of bullets from 16 men. She was a nurse, a woman who was willing to die so others could live. Other women, like Florence Nightingale and Mary Seacole, transformed the care of wounded soldiers during the Crimean War, working tirelessly with courage, compassion, and determination. How could we ever diminish the roles of nurses if these are the stories they are renowned for?
These women did not simply practice medicine; they embodied the Hippocratic oath.
How, then, could nursing ever be considered a lesser profession – when they undertake and obey the same oath doctors take?
The problem arises when assumptions turn the world of medicine into a hierarchy rather than a partnership. Nurses are not beneath doctors. They are collaborators, teachers, and advocates for patients. Medicine only works because these professions support one another.
Calling a female doctor “nurse” may seem harmless to the person who says it. But for the women who have earned the title of doctor, it reinforces the idea that their authority is unexpected and for nurses, it reduces a highly skilled profession to a stereotype.
Respecting doctors and respecting nurses should never be mutually exclusive.
Both deserve recognition. Both deserve respect. And neither should be defined by outdated assumptions about who belongs where. If the word ‘doctor’ still surprises people when it belongs to a woman, the problem was never the mistake – it was the mindset.
Calling a female doctor “nurse” may seem harmless to the person who says it. But for the women who have earned the title of doctor, it reinforces the idea that their authority is unexpected and for nurses, it reduces a highly skilled profession to a stereotype.
Respecting doctors and respecting nurses should never be mutually exclusive.