Whimsical, queer exploration of all things gender.

My good friend and colleague S.W. Underwood and myself wrote a piece in response to Dr. Jordan Peterson’s recent comments at the University of Toronto, regarding his refusal to use the pronouns individuals identify with. Please see here for the article!


If you look it up, a common-sense definition of a slur is simply an insulting remark, that might also harm someone’s reputation. This is over-simplistic, in that it doesn’t consider power dynamics. Often when we talk of slurs we’re talking about language used by those with power (which can mean being socially normalised, not demographically vulnerable to systemic forms of discrimination) to bash those without, in a hateful way associated with some kind of disenfranchised group. I would say minority group, though importantly women of course  experience all kinds of misogynistic language despite the size of the demographic (spoiler: because patriarchy). Most people can recognise and be suitably disgusted by a wide range of slurs, particularly racial ones. There’s also the conversations constantly happening within marginalised groups around the politics of reclaiming previously weaponised words as a form of empowerment – slutwalks, self-defining fags and dykes, and the now quite longstanding world of queer. But due to the (sometimes faltering, and certainly incomplete) progress that has been made through decades of social processes whereby more and more people get switched on to how language is used being something that matters, legitimate processes of challenging oppressive language have been levied as a rhetorical shield against being criticised, or even described.

I would argue there are two particular terms in relation to transgender people in particular that ignorant or prejudiced individuals like to claim are slurs or pejorative – cisgender, and TERF. Cisgender, or cis for short, comes from the latin meaning ‘on this side’ (whilst ‘trans’ means ‘on the other side’). It is a value-neutral descriptor for individuals whose gender identities align with how their gender was assigned at birth. TERF stands for trans-exclusionary radical feminism, and describes people (usually women) who profess a feminist identity but do not consider transgender women to be ‘real’ women.

Cisgender exists in order to de-position the words ‘man’ and ‘woman’ as always being about people who are not trans (notice how trans men and trans women are always indicated by the prefix, but most of the time cis men and cis women are ‘just’ men and women?). When we say man, or woman, we don’t have any information about whether an individual is cis or trans, but for as long as cisness is positioned as the ‘default’, trans status is positioned as ‘not normal’, rather than minority. Transness is implicitly excluded from being ‘real’ men or women for as long as those words on their own don’t include a universal appreciation of the possibility and reality of transness.  This isn’t to say that cis people can’t and don’t experience tensions, discrimination, or negative feelings because of enforced gender roles. But they do benefit from being viewed as real, constant, stable, and never having to convince or confess to others what their gender is, because it’s taken at face value. Cis people broadly benefit from being ‘the default’, and from cultural practices of ascribing gender to people based on what we see, and this often being taken as ‘more real’ than what an individual has to say about themselves.

People who don’t like these words existing often try to claim that they’re slurs in order to delegitimise their usage. Because of the fact that oppressed individuals may sometimes, in understandable frustration at experiences of inequality express their anger through disparaging the oppressive groups. Compare TERF to say, racist, or homophobe. These are words that are used to describe people with a particular set of (discriminatory) beliefs, or who engage in discriminatory practices. In those cases, people called homophobes and racists tend to respond by going ‘no I’m not! (I have a friend who is gay!)’ – yet fascinatingly TERFs don’t say that they don’t think that trans women aren’t women, but that… it’s offensive to say they are? In more extremely hateful individuals one does see people defiantly, proudly proclaiming themselves as racist, homophobic, transphobic – because they believe it is right to be so. Those who don’t believe it is right to be so but don’t recognise the problems with their actions are now the bigger problem.

People can try to shut down descriptors which shake their ignorant worldviews. TERFs see themselves as ‘feminists’, men and women critical of ‘cis’ see themselves as ‘just men and women’ (I’ve never seen a trans person have a problem or make a critique of the word cisgender, which probably has a lot to do with experiences of having their genders systematically delegitimised).

It is a Machiavellian, political move to utilise narratives of oppression resistance in order to reject descriptive labels that function to make a minority less Othered (in the case of cis) or to describe a set of beliefs unambiguously, making it easier to see their failings (such as TERF). One can see it in other domains – take the descriptor of ‘Blairite’ – because support for the political ideology of Tony Blair has been criticised heavily, proponents try to silence their critics through tone policing and claiming those labeling them are being offensive.

The bottom line – it’s important not to confuse people being pissed off with a group of people described by a word, and the word itself having a disparaging meaning.



Identities are tricky things. They can be used as a shorthand to tell people something about you (from the gender of your partner/s, to what sort of music you like), and they can be grappled with in coming to understand ourselves better as we grow and move through our lives. I’d like to try and use some of my own process and movement to talk about tensions and limitations of (sexual) identity, and how this can also be okay. This is a bit of a thought-dump, so I hope it’s navigable.

I came out to my friends and parents as gay when I was 18, and that was completely fine (a privilege that is informed by my position as middle class, white, and English). It was only later as I accrued more life experience (in both intimate relationships and intellectual ideas) that I was to turn attention to how I conceived of myself again.

Much of this experience relates to gender. Sexuality is both entwined with and separate from gender identity – who you go to bed with is not the same as who you go to bed as, yet if you’re attracted to say, exclusively girls, your gender is what is then used to position you as straight, or a lesbian. My experiences have forced me to confront often unspoken assumptions about what sexuality means for an individual. There’s an assumption that when we say ‘gay men’ we’re talking about cis gay men (because of cissexism), and thus whoever a gay man is interested in/sexual with is also cis. Far from it. By experiencing and acknowledging intimacy with trans gay people, gayness is decoupled from dominant assumptions that this means two people with the ‘same’ genitals.

Also, through deconstructing and questioning my own gender identity and attempting to negotiate feelings around the rejection of masculinity and manhood, identification with and as non-binary has become something I’ve increasingly positioned myself with. It’s important that we don’t assume that identification is as simple as putting oneself inside or outside of particular boxes – particularly when the labels on the boxes can have radically different meanings for different people. Therein lies something that attracts me to both non-binary and queer as identity categories – they position one within an umbrella LGBTQ+ discourse, without any rigid over-simplification of personal experience. They can tell people what you want them to know without having to have an existential crisis over the details of selfhood every time one outs oneself.


An important point though is how I found gay didn’t really work without erasing the complexities around my feelings of my gender. It also (for me) would potential disenfranchise the gender of my partner, who identified as male when we met, but does not now. Whilst there may (must?) be trans women out there with AMAB gay identified partners who don’t have a problem with the language their partner feels a resonance with to describe their sexuality, some will feel that this positions them as not ‘real’ women. As I don’t identify particularly as male, does that mean I would feel erased if I were to be involved with a guy who identified as gay? I don’t think so. Maybe this speaks to some internalised stuff about ‘not being non-binary enough’, but it would be far more important to me that they didn’t internalise essentialised notions of gender in articulating their sexuality (that ‘attraction to men’ makes assumptions about what a ‘male body’ is, or what gender expression ‘should’ be, etc.).

Further, if telling someone ‘I’m gay’ as someone read as male, this will result in people making an assumption about my partner’s gender, whether she’s there or not. Plus, we’re still together. I’m with a woman. So whether conceiving sexuality of who you’re sexual with, attracted to, in a relationship with, and then your own corresponding gender identity, I’ve royally muddied the waters on all of these fronts. In addition to all of that, over time I’ve felt a significant alienation from notions of a gay community – a social phenomenon that my experiences of have been very white (and racist), very male (and misogynistic), very cis (and transphobic), and very apolitical. Something I think is very important to acknowledge is that gay community is NOT homogeneous. In so far as my experiences have given me those associations, this is something that is obviously not inevitably symptomatic of all individual white cis gay men, or necessarily communities. If tensions with other individuals who share your identity label were all it took to result in disidentification, then identity would fragment apart into nothingness. Identity categories are inherently limited in grouping together people, when people comprise difference.

So if I was gay, but I no longer identify as such, that makes me an ‘ex-gay’ right? I say this very tongue in cheek, fully aware of the evangelical Christian undertones that the label ‘ex-gay’ is associated with, and how such a reading assumes both the possibility and success of conceptually repugnant and psychologically damaging ‘reparation therapy’. It’s slightly telling all on its own about how erasing society is in general that if not gay, we thus immediately leap to straight. Which I can at least confidently say I am not. I am queer – I cannot easily categorise the bodies, identities, appearances, or personalities of those I find attractive romantically or sexually. I can identify patterns, but such details don’t lend themselves well to identity labels. I’ve learnt not to worry about it any more.


What it means to ‘be gay’ is also undergoing social transmutation. Queer people (particularly in youth or internet subcultures) might use language such as ‘I’m hella gay’, in a way which resonates or communicates far more something queer than something rigidly, discretely homosexual. This echoes the historical phenomenon where before identities such as bisexual, pansexual, or even transgender were understood and demarcated, ‘gay’ itself was a catch-all term, but which erased people in a way that queer does not. The difference between this historical use of gay and of contemporary use of queer is how ideas of gender and sexuality have developed in the meantime and fed into community consciousnesses.

I do sometimes wish I had a simpler, easier experience of gender and sexuality, as it would make it easier to relate with certain parts of the world and to communicate. But I also think this is a trap. What I really wish is that I could tell anyone that I’m queer, and not worry about what they think that might mean, whether they’re okay with it, or whether I’m going to have to navigate various assumptions made about gender and orientation. Giving time to process the potential complexities of gender and sexuality can feel daunting, but it’s also incredibly important as it equips us all to be more respectful, and more understanding.


The irony of this piece of writing isn’t lost on me. But as possibly the most visible and discussed transgender person ever, it’s practically impossible to be engaged with transgender scholarship and activism without acknowledging that she has influenced the conversations that are being had.

When I wrote about Caitlyn’s coming out last year, there were two points about the future I was keen to see pan out. The first was that her reality TV foothold gave her a valuable platform despite not becoming a well-informed activist overnight. The second was hoping that she inspired more and better quality allyship. The latter point is unquantifiable, and I remain hopeful that this is the case (although this is the direct the world is slowly moving in anyway). The former… well, it’s time to review.

It’s timely, as the premier of the second season of I am Cait, and it’s fair to say that Jenner is clearly willing to engage with members of the trans community beyond her political position as a conservative Republican. The inclusion of Kate Bornstein is a delight for many, as her books Gender Outlaw and Gender Outlaws: The Next Generation among others have embraced and supported a diverse cross-section of the trans community.


As Jenny Boylan put it “The Ingenious, Subversive thing is, @IAmCait is not actually about her”. Productive dialogue between left and right wing people is incredibly hard to foster, because no-one wants to change their mind. Everyone holds their views because they feel they are right, or better, or most useful. Stepping out of the echo chamber is hard. I can definitely imagine commenting more on this show, because there seems to be an emphasis on growth through conversation.

Jenner’s own position however – she’s quite recently declared extremist right wing presidential candidate Ted Cruz as “very nice”, and wants to be his ‘trans ambassador’. This is despite the fact that Ted Cruz views the support of trans students as “lunacy”, and that a trans student using a space “inflicts” them on others using that space. Cruz also has associations with Kevin Swanson, an extremist pastor advocating that gay people be put to death, and has associated himself with the support of extremist anti-abortionists who are associated with murder and attempted bombing.

Brynne Tannehill has given an excellent reasoning for Jenner’s seeming ability to doublethink away Cruz’s bigotry. She articulates how conservative trans people such as Jenner:

don’t have skin in the game. They were ultra-conservative before transition, and remained so after transition because a Cruz presidency doesn’t endanger them personally. They live in safe places, with a safe income.

escape cognitive dissonance in a lot of ways. They don’t believe that Ted Cruz would do all the horrible things he and the FRC have promised to do. They believe that the most important thing to transgender people is “a good economy” that gives us more job opportunities. They claim to be “looking at the bigger picture,” or say that “I’m not a single issue voter,” with an implication of moral and intellectual superiority.

Tannehill explains how polemical anti-left understandings of Democrat policy lead them to the conclusion that they would be better off under Cruz. For those who are literal millionaires, in terms of taxation, they may well be right. But even if we ignore the tired discussion that illustrates how right wing economic policies favour businesses and the wealthy, Jenner fails to recognise how:

Ted Cruz has promised to force the world’s largest employer of transgender people (the DoD) to hunt down and fire all of its transgender employees. Never mind that if the FRC’s plan is implemented, transgender people would not have access to correct government ID. Nor would they have legal recourse when discriminated against in employment. Nor when refused service, nor when tormented by religiously motivated co-workers, nor when school administrators can legally refuse to provide an education to transgender students.

This would obviously hit poorer trans people, trans people of colour, disabled trans people the hardest. Caitlyn has wealth, glamour, and a platform – but her lived experience doesn’t bring much to the table. She doesn’t have experiences of marginalisation that have sharpened her consideration of social issues, nor is she a scholar. She has said how she would have “all my girls to advise him” – she might be able to wield the social capital to protect those near and dear to her, but what about everyone else? In my article last year, I quoted S. Bear Bergman postulating “wondering who else should get 2 hrs on prime time TV?” Innumerable trans people with a spectacular range of stories and expertise to share come to mind, some have appeared on TV, some have not. I would find it alarming if anyone with the platform of Jenner were to normalise a radical, hateful extremist such as Cruz, despite the potential laudability of what she might be trying to do through her show.

To be clear, I applaud attempts by Jenner to engage outside of a conservative echo chamber. So why don’t I want to talk about her anymore? Because she’s not who we should be listening to. Some of her friends, and her critics, and the community she wants to represent, are.

It can be easy not to care about politics and activism – and even easier to not care when people try and tell you that you should. This isn’t a post about that, but being kinder has significant impact on peoples’ lives. Everyone knows the sensation of dwelling on someone having done or said something really unnecessary, unhelpful, or mean, and how it can leave you rubbed the wrong way for the rest of the day. Hopefully you might also be able to think of a time when someone said or did something they really didn’t have to, but which stuck out, and made you feel good about the world for a moment. Being gay often situates one within a community – or at least a population – who can and do still experience rejection, hostility, discrimination… though increasingly, happily, many also don’t. In some particular ways, the gay community doesn’t necessarily recognise the ways in which it now has it good, and how the things we say and do can be unintentionally damaging. But what can an individual do about it? Especially without getting caught up in a world of politics or social justice that might not be at all for you? I would say – think about how you can be kinder. Below are some examples I think are important.

1. Avoid expressing your sexuality as ‘liking penis’ (or hating vaginas)

‘How is that unkind, I just do!’ You might say. But… not all gay men have a penis. If you’re a gay, transgender man trying to make your way in a community that situates your sexual desirability around something you may not have, then that can make you feel pretty excluded. There are of course, gay cisgender men who absolutely can be and are attracted to, have sex with, fall in love with trans men without fetishising them – without positioning them as some kind of exotic sexual curiosity. No-one is saying who you have to be attracted to, either – though taking a moment to ask yourself how central genitals are to your sexuality (if they are) and why, might be an enlightening exercise. Either way, this simple bit of awareness can go a long way to making gay communities a bit kinder for trans guys.

2.  Think about the broader implications of having ‘no fat’, ‘no old’, ‘no camp’, ‘no asian’ or other categories on your dating/sex apps

This is a predictably polarising point, with some arguing ‘it’s just a preference’ and others making arguments that it represents serious problems with hierarchies in the gay community, and how these are examples of racism, ageism, and other serious issues. Again – no-one is saying that you have to be, or can be, attracted to everyone. But there is a really significant difference between ‘having preferences’ and articulating that there is zero, absolutely zero possibility of talking to a person because of their occupation of a particular category. People ignore people, or say ‘no thank you’ all the time on these sorts of platforms. By doing the romantic or sexual equivalent of a 1930s style ‘no coloureds’ sign in a shop window, what this says is that no matter who you are, no matter how nice you are or whatever, your race/weight/presentation/age comes first. You are reduced to that thing – which makes people feel horrible. People don’t have direct control over who they find attractive, but again, there is value in examining why it is you feel the way you feel about particular groups of people. Giving someone a sign that you’re not interested without making it about a trait that can be the source of all kinds of degradation or exclusion is simply… kinder.

3. Respect campness

There’s a lot that can be said about this, but something I’ve definitely heard is gay people who feel that camp or effeminate gay men ‘are embarrassing’ or bring the gay community into ‘disrepute’. The first point I’d like to make in relation to this, is if this is about fear of association? That you don’t like the idea of mainstream society looking at you as a gay person and thinking of feather boas, drag queens, and high heels ? If so, then you have to accept that what you’re doing is saying to those who are far more likely to be victims of homophobia that they should simply stop doing what ‘makes the bullies bully’, rather than challenging what bullies do as wrong. Further, if we look at history, it wasn’t ‘straight acting’ gay men who did the terrifying, life-endangering activist work of activism such as Stonewall – it was transgender women of colour, effeminate gay men, and butch, queer women for the most part. The people who couldn’t hide. Some camp people will of course be shallow, bitchy, loud, annoying. Others will be deep, sensitive, quiet and delightful – in which case what you’re objecting to isn’t actually campness, but a construction that attempts to excuse the policing of femininity within men. Also, your masculinity (if you identify as such) shouldn’t feel threatened by camp, fabulous queens! If femininity threatens your masculinity through association, then perhaps your masculinity could benefit from being reconstructed in terms that aren’t oppositionally opposed to, or propped up by the denigration of femininity.

4. Try and empathise with those in the closet

‘It’s 2016, no-one cares, just get over it already’ – It can be so tempting to feel this way, especially if your own coming out was a bit of an anti-climax, either an affair of celebration, or indifference amongst those you know. Also as time passes by, it’s easy for any anxiety up until that point to be dismissed – ‘oh I was so paranoid but I really had nothing to worry about really, I should’ve known’. It might seem obvious to say, but not all circumstances are the same. There are still people who get kicked out by their families, have people change how they see you, change how they treat you. People deal with this in all kinds of different ways. If someone says they’re ‘straight but just like guys’, I might be thinking a couple of things, likely sympathetic things. No-one gains anything from saying ‘yeah right, face the facts buddy’. A community that engages sensitively with those who probably need it most is kinder and more supportive than one that doesn’t.

5. Don’t assume that a guy with a boyfriend is gay (or a guy with a girlfriend is straight)

There might be a fair old likelihood, but you know, bisexual people exist. Pansexual people exist (though not according to spellchecker). All kinds of sexuality and gender configurations exist. What about the queer guy who ended up in a relationship with a transgender woman, accepts her womanhood, but doesn’t identify as bi, or pan? There are lots of relationship experiences where the boundaries of sexuality labels breaks down a bit. Avoiding assumptions generally is a good way for people to feel like you’re considerate of their potential to exist.

In preparing for class, I read a chapter of the book Formations of Class and Gender by Beverley Skeggs (chapter 6, ‘Ambivalent Femininities’). In it, she begins by giving some historical background where she argues that signs of femininity are always classed.

By this, Skeggs is referring to history. Being ‘feminine’ was, and is, constructed to be fragile, delicate, dainty, pretty, small, thin, submissive, and charming. Of course, this has been challenged, resisted and re-negotiated through feminism, but bear with me.

This traditional notion of femininity was and is “a projection of male fantasy”. It is assigned to those women who have ‘proved themselves’ through the way they interact with people and present themselves in the world. Such attribution has been tied not just to presentation and interaction, but also to work – think of the ‘respectable housewife’ image, the epitome of a 1950’s femininity.

Skeggs explains how “working class women were coded as inherently healthy, hardy, and robust (whilst also paradoxically as a source of infection and disease) against the physical frailty of middle-class women. They were also involved in forms of labour that prevented femininity from ever being a possibility.”

Let’s consider the experiences of transgender women. Trans women can experience pressure to ‘pass’ as female (that is, be socially read as if assigned female at birth through appearance, mannerisms, and behaviour). We can see how the same set of problematic norms that dictate what femininity traditionally is in relation to class can be used to exclude transgender womanhood. In this context, femininity is conflated and confused with ‘femaleness’. That is, in order to be viewed as a ‘real’ woman, one has to successfully perform a very constrained and normative interpretation of femininity. Again, this is quite fortunately being challenged, but those trans women who reject traditional/stereotypical femininity and gender roles can and do experience stigma because of it.

What about the intersection – what about working class transgender women? Cisgender working class women can, arguably, struggle to be recognised as feminine due to femininity’s class construction. Trans working class women thus can experience a double bind – exclusion from femininity for working class norms and practices instilled through environment and interaction throughout life, and a likely more difficult battle to perform a middle class femininity adequately in order to be taken seriously as a woman.

Also, putting in ‘too much effort’ can also lead to stigmatisation and be seen as a sign of deviancy! Think of the prevalent and toxic ideas policing women who ‘wear too much make-up’ or ‘try too hard’ – these narratives become connected to the notion of ‘deception’, which then strikes doubly hard for transgender women whose authenticity as women is already under question due to biologically essentialist transphobia (the idea that ‘being female’ is rooted in genitals, chromosomes, etc.)

This one particular example is, I would argue, representative of a systemic problem, whereby class dynamics and economic inequality undermine the fight for LGBTQ rights and gender equality. This also emphasises that any attempts to position feminism and transgender rights as somehow at odds with each other are at best, an erroneous relic. Trying to separate them out will only create an under-nuanced model of the society we desperately need to improve.


Released on the 14th January, this 98 page report has already been usefully digested and impressively considered by a range of groups within the trans community (including Action for Trans Health, the Non-Binary Inclusion Project, and Beyond the Binary). I’ll be going through it section by section, aiming to break down the content for those who haven’t read it, and provide some points of consideration for those who have. The report can be found here.

The report comes from the Women and Equalities Committee, chaired by Mrs. Maria Miller. The committee contains 6 Conservative MPs, 4 Labour MPs, and 1 MP from the Scottish National Party. The bolded subtitles are parallel with the sections of the report itself.

Over 250 written evidence submissions were received, and five oral evidence sessions were held. Each submission was however limited to 3000 words, which rather caps those expert trans organisations and individuals who may have a lot of useful information to say on a range of sub-topics.

1. Introduction

Here the report provides a breakdown of terminology – what is a trans woman, what is a trans man, what is cis, etc. etc. They do take a simplified approach to non-binary, simply saying it is “located at a (fixed or variable) point along a continuum between male and female; or “non gendered”, i.e. involving identification as neither male nor female” (p. 5). They also specify here that it wasn’t possible to undertake an ‘in-depth’ consideration of non-binary needs in the report, but highlight a need for this, likewise for intersex people, whom they recognise as having potentially overlapping but distinctive needs.

They mention that “before commencing the inquiry, we consulted informally with representatives of two key stakeholder organisations, Press for Change and Stonewall”. PfC is a long standing champion of transgender legal rights, and Stephen Whittle (who founded the organisation) acted as Specialist Advisor – quite appropriately as he is both trans himself and a professor of law! The fact that Stonewall only began considering trans issues less than three months ago makes me wonder if there weren’t more experienced groups that might’ve assisted, and whether Stonewall somewhat rode on the coattails of its recognisability due to its sexuality based work.

2. Cross-Government Strategy

In this small section, the Government Equalities Office (GEO) is introduced. They published ‘Advancing Transgender Equality: A plan for action’ in 2011, which was criticized as largely unimplemented. They highlight that within 6 months the government must agree a new strategy which it can deliver, with full cross-departmental support, and must make a clear commitment to abide by the Yogyakarta principles, and Resolution 2048 of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe. Given that these pieces of legislature were created in 2007 and April 2015 respectively, I am disappointed but unsurprised that these have not been explicitly incorporated sooner.

3. Gender Recognition Act 2004

Topics considered under this section include:

  • Applying for Gender Recognition Certificates (GRCs)
  • Spousal consent for gender recognition
  • The age limit of 18+ for gender recognition
  • data protection and excessive requests for GRCs

It’s good to see the committee recognising here that despite the step forward it was at the time (albeit obviously imperfect), there are aspects that are particularly dated and lacking, and in need of updating. It is highlighted that the requirement to provide documentation of a diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria (then Gender Identity Disorder) is necessary for a Gender Recognition Certificate to be awarded, is pathologising and problematic. The arbitrary and uncritical requirement of two years living ‘in role’ (whatever that actually means) before surgical gender affirmation will be provided was also highlighted as a failing. The committee concludes that “in place of the present, medicalised, quasi-judicial application process, an administrative process must be developed, centred on the wishes of the individual applicant, rather than on intensive analysis by doctors and lawyers” (p. 14). This is a welcome change, but desperately needs more specific functionality to be formulated and disclosed. As gender is assigned at birth on the basis of genital appearance, it is ludicrously unfair for those individuals for whom this cursory assessments turns out to be inaccurate to have to pay £140 for a certificate to have this revised. Whilst it is pointed out that the fee can be waived, an effective replacement system would benefit from being transparent, costless to applicants, and respectful of the self-determination of gender. Zac at Transistence points out that the report makes some factual errors about the requirements for a GRC, which may make it a more difficult process than they imply.

The next section on spousal consent has been reviewed as one of the more disappointing aspects of the report (among the reviewers cited at the start of this article). As it stands, an individual in a marriage who wishes to undertake a legal change of how their gender is recognised requires the agreement of their spouse on the basis that marriage “takes the form of a contract between two people of different sexes or two people of the same sex”. Action for Trans Health quite astutely makes the point that the basis of consent required for the status of the marriage to change from ‘opposite to same’ sex (or vice versa) is a clumsy, inefficient, and ultimately unnecessary (unless one is still attempting to preserve the ‘separate but equal’ feel to marriage based on the genders of the couple). No discussion is present over the idea of marriage contracts being de-gendered specifically (although it’s a good thing that on page 63 it is suggested that the government “should be moving towards “non-gendering” official records as a general principle and only recording gender where it is a relevant piece of information” – though the question remains, what criteria would be used to define gender as relevant?). For the government to fail to recognise the need to modify any system that allows one individual the power to prevent the legal recognition of another person’s gender (even for a time) is deeply concerning. No action was advised, despite advisory recognition that an abusive spouse may take advantage of this policy. Also, Scotland’s solution to this avoids delay or restriction on the trans spouse:

Under the Marriage and Civil Partnership Act (Scotland) 2014, which came into force on 16th December 2014, a married trans person whose spouse does not consent to the granting of a full GRC is able to apply to a Sheriff Court for a full GRC, on the basis of an interim GRC, without divorce or annulment having taken place. The process of obtaining a full GRC is thus expedited. The spouse of a trans person is entitled to be notified of the issuing of a GRC and can initiate divorce proceedings on that basis. (p. 16)

If Scotland can do it, why can’t England? It is one of the most insufficient responses that the committee concludes that any abuse of the legislation would be “deplorable and inexcusable” (p.17) yet they simply “more ensure it is informed about the extent and ways of addressing the problem”. The implication is that the ‘right’ to not be married to your partner for one single second as a legally recognised trans person is equal to the right to have one’s gender recognised. Thus the argument that marriage is a legal contract and that the non-trans spouse has equal say is rooted in transphobia.

A point many may regard as a victory, the report recommends that “provision should be made to allow 16 and 17 year olds, with appropriate support, to apply for gender recognition, on the basis of self-declaration” (p.19).

That not a single person has been prosecuted under the bit of legislation (section 22) to protect trans people from being outed illustrates how it has failed to protect anyone from or hold anyone accountable for this particular manifestation of transphobia. The report indicates the Ministry of Justice must investigate why, and work with courts to deal with this. The report recognises that there are “very few” situations where asking for proof of legal gender is appropriate, and yet the fact that this occurs raises cause for concern at how an individual’s trans status may be responded to by an organisation. As it is not unlawful to ask a person to produce a GRC under the GRA, it seems sensible to me that a clause be inserted that this is with the proviso that the request is justified and substantiated, and that absolutely no negative consequences occur if the request is refused on the basis of not being necessary.

4. Equality Act 2010

  • ‘Gender reassignment’ as a protected characteristic
  • Exemptions – separate sex and single sex services
  • Separate gender sport

This section paid some important attention to language, recognising how scrutiny of the terms ‘gender reassignment’ and ‘transsexual’ can be problematic for many, not least because of the increasing number of trans people for whom these terms are not reflective for. Lack of clarity can prevent the act from being fully effective, as it is illustrated that many erroneously believe that a GRC is necessary for protection when it is not. However, with regards to whether non-binary people are protected, it was stated that:

When the Equality Bill was going through Parliament the then Solicitor General had clearly indicated that it was only the provision in respect of discrimination by perception which would protect those members of “the wider transgender community”who did not come under the protected characteristic of gender reassignment. That is, they would only be protected if they were discriminated against because they were perceived to be proposing to undergo, to be undergoing, or to have undergone gender reassignment. The difficulty with this provision is that there are likely to be cases where an individual from the wider trans community, is discriminated against because of who they are and not because they are perceived to be transsexual.

That the report wishes to amend the act to protect on the basis of ‘gender identity’ is a positive step, but as with all aspects of this report, actual results will speak louder than good intentions.

The next point considered by the report was ‘separate sex and single sex services’, referring particularly to women’s shelters (such as rape crisis, or domestic abuse shelters), and prisons. A group called ‘Women Analysing Policy on Women’ reported a position ringing of uncritical TERF based arguments, saying there is a ‘clash’ when women who would feel unsafe accessing a service that is open to trans women should have the right to access services that exclude trans women – which is permissible as an exemption under the Equality Act. It is obviously terrible if any woman feels unsafe because of others using a service for those who have experienced violence. However clunky the comparison however, the debate would not be being had if it was a question of white women feeling unsafe around a service allowing black women access. That there is zero examples of pre, post, or non-operative transgender women committing a sexual crime in a womens’ shelter, the argument rests upon an implicit delegitimisation of trans women, as ‘really’ men. Such legislation not only endangers and discriminates against vulnerable trans women (who are statistically more likely to be at risk of sexual violence, or engagement in underground economies which may lead to imprisonment), but also polices a trans woman’s ‘authenticity’ on the basis of how well she ‘passes’ – a trans woman who is not read as such may be able to access exclusionary services anyway, whilst others would not. Worryingly, the Minister for Women and Equalities thought that such exclusionary practices were being used “proportionately, appropriately, and fairly”, despite this including facilities as broad and vital as public changing rooms, bathing facilities, and toilets (p. 30). That they only recommend amendment of the Equality Act such that “the occupational requirements provision and/or the single-sex/separate services provision shall not apply in relation to discrimination against a person whose acquired gender has been recognised under the Gender Recognition Act 2004” (p.32) – that is, awarded a GRC – is insufficient, and lacking in critical consideration.

Finally for this section was the consideration of separate-gender sport. The report recognises that exclusion of trans people from sport in their acquired gender should be a much rarer than than it is. Sports have to demonstrate that they are ‘gender affected’, and that a trans person would have some kind of unfair advantage, or for there to be a ‘safety risk’ to competitors. They recommend that the government works with Sport England to produce some guidance to avoid exclusions, as they recognise the unlikeliness of an exclusion being justified.

5. NHS Services

Obviously there’s a lot to be said here. and it is divided by:

  • GPs attitudes
  • Education and training of doctors
  • Professional regulation of doctors
  • GICs (adults)
  • Treatment protocols
  • Capacity and quality of services
  • The Tavistock Clinic (children and adolescents)

There are some recognitions that are important here, most clearly at the start of this section the clear admission that “the NHS is letting down trans people, with too much evidence of an approach that can be said to be discriminatory” (p. 35). There is further explicit recognition that “GPs in particular too often lack an understanding of: trans identities; the diagnosis of gender dysphoria; referral pathways into Gender Identity Services; and their own role in prescribing hormone treatment. And it is asserted that in some cases this leads to appropriate care not being provided” (p. 42). Whilst the report asks the General Medical Council to “provide clear reassurance” that they take transphobia seriously as a form of professional misconduct, there isn’t any more specific discussion of the importance of implementing a holistic and integrated consideration of gender identity into medical training.

It is positive the the problematic association between transgender identity and mental health services is recognised. I particularly support the notion of Gender Identity Services being established as a specialty in its own right, as it is a profoundly intersectional discipline that cannot be readily reduced to or conflated with only endocrinology, or surgery, or gynecology, etc.

Disappointing however is the seeming misunderstanding of the informed consent model illustrated by point 212 (p. 47). They suggest that the model is unconvincing because it would allow anyone to access whatever service (hormones, surgeries) they want on demand with no further scrutiny. It is accepted that there is a significant difference between accessing different gender affirming treatments – the ramifications of hormones are fundamentally different to phalloplasty or vaginoplasty. Not only do these have different ramifications for the individual, but also restrictive NHS budgets (that very much could be expanded were it not for ideological Conservative decisions… though that’s not a discussion for here) mean that the clinical urgency for an individual needs justifying in terms of need. A difficult topic, when it comes to finite resources I can at least understand the wish to prioritise say, those experiencing dysphoria over those who do not, or not as badly, but creating that hierarchy of need is never going to be without ethical issues. However, I do think this committee has been too quick in dismissing the merits that an informed consent model would offer, at least in the provision of hormones. That many trans people seek access to hormones only, with either no need/desire or at least no firm commitment on surgical intervention would allow those who are on the enormous NHS waiting lists to rapidly have their needs met. That there is a double standard regarding when cis individuals access hormones for a wide range of medical reasons is evidence to suggest that the refusal to allow trans people to take responsibility for their choice to take hormones or not, is at the very least, cis-centric. Were informed consent utilised for hormones, I posit that the waiting lists for GICs would decrease dramatically, allowing greater speed, attention, and resources to be provided to those individuals negotiating surgical gender affirmation.

I am somewhat perplexed by the claim that “The requirement to undergo “Real Life Experience” prior to genital (reassignment/reconstructive) surgery must not entail conforming to externally imposed and arbitrary (binary) preconceptions about gender identity and presentation. It must be clear that this requirement is not about qualifying for surgery, but rather preparing the patient to cope with the profound consequences of surgery” (p. 47). Does it require two years to do that? Are there other examples where surgeries are delayed for that long on the basis of preparation? What is the period meant to be an experience of, if not to satisfy to clinicians that the trans person has shown they’re super-serious enough? How does living in a gender role relate to practical preparations on genital surgery (given that major genital surgery in cis people doesn’t involve this). Obviously it’s good that they’re saying this isn’t for the imposition of external, socially constructed binary values, but I fail to see how as it is currently enforced, it is actually justified – and indeed, it has been long criticised as arbitrary, cis-centric gatekeeping.

In point 230 (p. 50) the report discusses how lack of specialist clinicians is a major, underdiscussed barrier to the introduction of more services. Whilst I think that a revision of hormone access ease would go a long way, this point could have been related to an explicit making-visible of gendered medicine within medical training, but wasn’t. Again, it’s great that the committee recognise how appalling it is that waiting lists for GICs are so long when the legal obligation under the NHS constitution is for treatment provision within 18 weeks, at this stage they’re simply reiterating that things are bad – when a lot of people want to see something done. So – good, but I’ll celebrate when we get some change, thank you.

It’s been a long time coming, but it’s pleasing to see the committee recommend a reduction in time required for young service users to wait before puberty blockers can be accessed – due to their reversibility (primarily), and the sensitivity of time as a factor. Such a vague (albeit welcome) conclusion could benefit greatly from some practical recommendation of how the time scale might practically change – well within the capability of discussion given the high involvement of the GICs and NHS in the discussions underpinning this report.

6. Tackling Everyday Transphobia

Here the committee makes points about:

  • Hate crime
  • Recording names and gender identities
  • Prison services
  • Online services
  • Schools and post-school education
  • Social care

It is a breath of fresh air to see the report explicitly state that the Ministry of Justice must ensure it consults fully with the trans community (p. 57) – and indeed, this should be the case for every sub-topic of the report. Low conviction rates, practical issues of intersectionality (which box do you tick when a trans woman of colour is a victim?!), and a (shocking) lack of parity between trans hate crimes and other hate crimes were all specifically acknowledged.

The report highlights that the laws on names in the UK are commonly incorrectly assumed, in that there is no such thing as a ‘legal name’ (p. 59). It is very positive that the committee recognises the necessity of dropping the pathologising practice of requiring a doctor’s letter in order to change a name on a passport. Further, the fact that Australia allows for passports with the gender marker ‘X’ rather than M or F was received positively as evidence that the UK would be quite capable of following suit. The claim by Karen Bradley that “The gender identifiers are important in making sure that somebody can be identified” fails to recognise that 1. there’s a *picture* and 2. there’s a host of additional identifying information, and that the gender marker doesn’t actually tell you anything, in and of itself. I believe the report would’ve benefited from deconstructing this flimsy counter-point. Overall however, the recommendation to move to a de-gendering of official documents where unnecessary (that is, most of them) should be praised. It was a missed opportunity not to link this discussion to that of marriage licences.

The recognition of the report of the deaths of Vicky Thompson and Joanne Latham underlined the sobriety and importance of the topic of prisons. Whilst the report recognises the importance of protecting trans prisoners and that housing individuals in prisons which affirm their gender identities, a lack of statement calling upon the Ministry of Justice to guarantee the respect of gender among trans prisoners (GRC or not) does not in my view engage with this topic with enough dedication. Access for Trans Health illustrate how there is impetus for prison services to allow trans charities and researchers more transparent access in order to collect necessary data about trans prison experiences, and also highlights the conspicuous lack of discussion of immigration detention, or how non-binary prisoners are to be located (one of many important points relating to non-binary that could be made, given that the report specifically states that non-binary was not engaged with in depth).

The assertion that trans issues should be taught in schools under Personal, Social and Health Education (PSHE) is an overdue but welcome conclusion. As with many of the points in this report, that certain things should happen is a given, and the details of how they will be properly introduced so as to be effective is the real question. Inclusion of transgender issues as part of teacher training is another excellent point – although consistency across private schools, academies, and religious schools are all concerns that necessitate attention.


As I have highlighted throughout, there are some very positive points and some letdowns. My overall sense at this point is one of caution – because fundamentally, nothing has actually changed yet. Whilst I do not wish to play down the hard work of many passionate and informed people for their part in this report, it’s undeniable that this publication marks the beginning of the execution of the next generation of change, not the end. Also it’s important to note that transgender equality does not exist in a vacuum from other social issues, and thus factors such as wages, income support/tax credits, the junior doctor’s contract (by proxy), NHS and prison privitisation and a wide range of other government policies will have very serious impacts on many transgender people.

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