by Asia Ferrin
There has been some online discussion recently about how, or if, people can have open conversations about policies that aim to create more inclusive spaces for trans people, trans women in particular. I will not recount the conversation here, but readers might want to see these posts, first from Kathleen Stock, then a reply from Talia Mae Bettcher, and a reply to the reply from Stock. Similar themes also come up in a recent post here on hostility in such discussions.
There is much to be said about these pieces and the conversation surrounding them, but here I want to focus on one of the main concerns Stock raises in her reply to Bettcher, reiterated in a recent interview on The Argus. Specifically, I want to address Stock’s request for “open,” “respectful,” “evidence-based” discussion of the Gender Critical position and the proposed addition of a “self-identification” clause to the UK policy on gender identity.
Stock describes her request and aims of writing her posts as follows (from May 31):
I wanted, first, to open up a space for free philosophical discussion, by other professional academics, of the Gender Critical position, without any automatic monstering of the author, simply for trying this.
It was also central to my purpose to draw attention to a particular political context — my local one, in the UK — in which the philosophical silence, or worse, active gatekeeping around any articulations of a Gender Critical position is contributing to a kind of paralysis, or so it seems to me.
My third and final aim was to engage with, not only academic philosophers, but also the wider public about these matters, and to play my part, alongside other feminists already active in this area, in furnishing non-philosophers with some conceptual distinctions of use in furthering their own discussions in a non-hostile way.
And finally, the event she headlined, with three others, in July “demands”: “Respectful and evidence based discussion about the impact of the proposed changes to the Gender Recognition Act to be allowed to take place and for women’s voices to be heard.”
On the face of it, this all sounds very reasonable. My writing here is not for ears that are well-versed in this debate and/or that immediately hear it as unreasonable. Instead, I write primarily for the person who reads Stock’s writings and thinks “hmmm, good question: why do conversations about trans issues have to be so hostile or difficult? Some of Stock’s worries seem legitimate and worthy of further consideration.” I aim to explain, and in part defend, resistance and hostility to the conversation, at least as Stock presents it. In doing so, I will also problematize some of her analysis.
Before getting too far, I should make two notes:
First, I should mention that I am a cis woman fairly new to trans philosophy. I do specialize in feminist philosophy, though, so am familiar with some literature referred to in this conversation as well as various views on and practices of oppression, privilege, marginalization, silencing, etc. I do, however, feel ambivalent about writing as a cis woman not particularly well-versed in trans studies. On the one hand, I am aware that being cis limits my perspective. I also know that there is a risk in hurting marginalized groups when one writes about them from positions of privilege. On the other hand, I don’t want to leave the burden of responding to posts about trans issues to trans people alone. So, I’ve decided to post this after receiving very helpful feedback from several trans scholars and trans allies.
I should also say that little that I write here is particularly original. I am repeating what other folks, trans and cis, have written elsewhere in both professional philosophy and in the blogosphere (I include some related links below). Nevertheless, I don’t think it hurts to repeat some things.
When finding myself entangled in an especially sour argument—either philosophically or personally—I try to ask myself two things: why might the other person with whom I am engaged be hostile in this moment and what limitations or biases am I myself contributing that hinder productive discussion?
Due to space, I am only going to reflect here on the first question: why might the other person with whom I am engaged be hostile in this moment? Specifically, for our purposes, why might trans people and trans allies (myself included) express hostility—or exasperation, frustration, hurt, anger, betrayal, resistance, etc.—when someone proposes an investigation into whether trans women should have access to spaces typically designated as women only? There is much that could be said here, and again, much that has been said here, so I will aim to be relatively brief. One reason for such resistances is that it seems that a negative answer, that is, the claim that “no, trans women should not have access to spaces typically designated for women only” relies on one of the following premises:
Assumption A) Trans women aren’t women.
Or
Assumption B) Trans women are dangerous to cis women.
Or
Assumption C) Trans women are not necessarily dangerous, but they do make some cis women uncomfortable in these more intimate spaces.
Or
Assumption D) Including trans women in women only spaces makes cis women more vulnerable to cis men.
Stock has either implicitly or explicitly stated each of these assumptions in her writings. I will address them in turn, problematizing each and explaining why trans people and trans allies might not be so eager to have an “open” and “respectful” discussion about them.
Assumption A) Trans women aren’t women. Stock defends this view, and the Gender Critical position generally, here. There is good reason to think this assumption is false, however, and thus a nonstarter. See here, here, here, and here. But even if it’s true, the assumption that trans women aren’t women doesn’t sufficiently ground the moral claim that Stock is after. One can’t derive the moral claim that trans women should be excluded from resources and spaces like homeless shelters, rape crises centers, changing rooms, hostels, public transport sleeping carriages, etc. from the descriptive claim that “Trans women aren’t women.” Moral reasons must be given to justify the moral claim. Such moral reasons are likely to involve harm, of the kind discussed in the other three assumptions I’ve outlined above. Thus, this claim that trans women aren’t women is at best a red herring in this case, at worst, malicious.
The assumption is perhaps malicious because, to my second point, this assumption hurts. And more importantly, this assumption harms; it is often used to discriminate against and justify violence toward trans women (see, for example, here, here, and here). Thus, I find it unreasonable and unfair for Stock to request “open” and “less-hostile” dialogue while simultaneously invoking this assumption. It feels like men asking women to have a “less hysterical” and “genuinely open” conversation about whether women are rational enough to work outside of the home (a common strategy for silencing women: e.g. here, here, and here). I suspect many feminists, Stock included, would not arrive “openly” to such a conversation.
Turning now to Assumption B): Trans women are dangerous to cis women.
Stock claims to reject this assumption, but she implies it regularly throughout her writings (for example, “…self-declared trans women (males) may well eventually gain unrestricted access to protected spaces originally introduced to shield females from sexual violence from males”) and it comes out very explicitly and angrily in comments posted by her supporters. Given the reoccurrence of this assumption in the conversation, I understand why trans folks and trans allies resist. Like Assumption A above, Assumption B is hurtful and harmful. I can imagine that if someone wanted to have a discussion, or explore a thesis, that involved invoking this assumption about me, I would experience a range of emotions—e.g. fear, hurt, disappointment, anger, resentment, hopelessness, and/or betrayal. I would feel some or all of these things at once if someone implied that I was dangerous. Furthermore, when this assumption gets airtime and uptake from less well-intentioned individuals or groups, trans women’s lives can be compromised in physical, social, ontological, and political ways. In other words, trans women and trans allies would be expected to be upset when certain positions about gendered spaces depend upon an assumption about them as threatening.
Furthermore, this upset is normatively justified. Imagine a scholar wanted to discuss the legal status of Black people, making claims that invoked and implied the following: “Black people are dangerous to white people.” It would be unsurprising for a conversation involving these assumptions to make many Black people feel a range of emotions and thus inclined to shut down conversations in which these assumptions are made. Moreover, beyond emotional affront, the world is worse for Black people, due to white supremacy, when these ideas get airtime as worthy of consideration. Given the stakes, and given the oppression that Black people face, we (I think many feminists, including Stock) thus think that resistance and hostility to conversations invoking such an assumption is permissible, if not admirable (more here, here, here, and here). It thus again seems problematic to “invite philosophers to facilitate a less hostile and more open discussion about the matter” as Stock does when this kind of insidious assumption is either implicitly or explicitly present in the conversation.
There is more to say on this point, but given Stock’s explicit rejection of the assumption that trans women are dangerous, I will not dwell on it.
Assumption C) Trans women are not necessarily dangerous, but they do make some cis women uncomfortable in these more intimate spaces.
Here, Stock describes worries such as “…trans women are experienced by many lesbians as exhibiting ‘male energy while in a lesbian space’” As with Assumption B above, I find it relatively easy to see why a conversation invoking or implying that trans women make cis women uncomfortable might be met with resistance from trans people and trans allies. It is hurtful (no one wants to be categorized as a discomforter) and often used to justify discrimination.
I also want to note that this assumption alone, without a further premise of actual harm posed by trans women, cannot justify the exclusion of trans women from women only spaces (like Assumption A above). We would need further reason to think the discomfort of cis women deserves more normative weight than the costs of excluding trans women. That someone else’s presence makes others uncomfortable does not itself warrant excluding the discomforter. Let us again compare the assumption in the case of race: that Black people may make some people uncomfortable in certain spaces does not warrant their exclusion—in this case because the discomfort is generated by white supremacist systems and reinforces the already marginalized status of Black people. Similarly, in the case of trans women, given their heavily marginalized status (in general and in comparison to many cis women), and that they have not in fact been dangerous to cis women, I am skeptical that some cis women’s discomfort warrants such exclusion.
At this point, I hope the reader agrees with me that neither A, B, nor C successfully establish that trans women should be excluded from women-only spaces. And, again, more to the point of my aim here, I hope the reader can see why a conversation that invokes these assumptions would, rightfully so, be met with resistance from both trans people and trans allies given the hurt and potential harm the assumptions generate. The untenability of A, B, and C thus leaves Assumption D as the most plausible reason for the claim that trans women should be excluded from women only spaces: Assumption D) Including trans women in women only spaces makes cis women more vulnerable to cis men.
While Stock takes this as somewhat established given several anecdotal cases, I think the jury is going to be out for a while on the plausibility of this claim. Empirical work like this is not only complicated, but also it’s very unclear, again, how to make the normative jump from the descriptive (e.g.: if it were true, for example, that offering asylum for refugees fleeing violence made it easier for terrorists or criminals to harm US citizens, it doesn’t automatically or clearly follow that we should not offer such asylum). This issue about the complexities of the empirical claims and their implications deserves an entire post in itself. But again, in this post, I want to focus first on whether productive conversations on such issues between variously invested individuals is even possible.
To that point, what I think is most important to note in this moment is that Stock’s worry about violence perpetrated by cis men is not a concern motivated by the Gender Critical position as Stock suggests. Nothing about the concern is dependent upon one occupying the Gender Critical position—folks, like myself, who reject the Gender Critical position are concerned about such abuses (Bettcher also grants such concern in her response to Stock). Similarly, nothing about occupying the Gender Critical position entails that one need be concerned about such abuses. The concern Stock articulates regarding the self-identification policy is about cis men abusing the policy. The concerns often articulated in the Gender Critical position are about trans women. These concerns are importantly distinct and the worry about cis men abusing the policy is not unique to the Gender Critical position. It’s not clear then, why Stock merges the views. They are not connected in the way she suggests.
In implying that this concern about the UK policy comes only, or primarily, from folks occupying the Gender Critical position, whose voices she claims are being stifled, Stock sets the conversation up unnecessarily divisively. She stirs the pot and provides more venues for Assumptions A-C to be voiced. This is not only problematic but also particularly ironic given her supposed aim to raise awareness of and space for more open and respectful dialogue. Unfortunately, by connecting these issues, Stock herself generates further strife and challenge to the conversation she supposedly wants to have, making her requests for trans activists to be more open and respectful unproductive at best, hypocritical and shameful at worst.
We could all—cis women, trans women, cis and trans men allies, non-binary folks—have a conversation about what to do when well-intended policies may unintentionally make some groups (in this case, both cis women and trans women) unsafe. The conversation could be started in a much less divisive way than Stock starts it; imagine instead, for example: “There are a number of complicated issues surrounding policies and practices aimed at furthering inclusivity for transgender people. Here, I want to focus on a recent policy change proposed in the UK, namely an extension of legal recognition to transgender people who simply self-identify as such, without any additional criteria. While I understand that the aim of this particular expansion is to make trans lives more livable, an aim I applaud, one worry that arises is that the policy will also make it easier for some cis men to gain access to women only spaces with the intention of causing harm to cis and/or trans women. No one wins when such abuses occur. Thus, I invite folks (all kinds: cis women, trans women, cis and trans men feminist allies, straight and queer people, those identifying as none of the above) to think with me about how we might address this potential for increased violence while recognizing the value of having more inclusive spaces. I recognize that such conversations are challenging given that harmful and hurtful ideas can be raised, but hope that….”
Stock, intentionally or unintentionally, misses her opportunity to foster an “open,” “less-hostile” conversation of this kind. I’m worried there’s a fairness issue, then, when she attempts to hold others to a bar that she herself fails to meet.
In conclusion, I’m both optimistic and pessimistic about the possibility of real, open conversation. I’m optimistic that there are some issues, such as violence against women, that can in fact be uniting and productively discussed in the way Stock hopes. However, I also think that Stock has started that conversation off on the wrong foot and now stokes flames (captured by Assumptions A-C) that make this particular conversation dangerous. I think this gives reason to restart the conversation: let’s aim to avoid the dialectic that Stock presents and instead call for more people and groups to come together to problem-solve the complexities of the UK policy, specifically, and women-only spaces, more generally. In this call, I hope readers can see here that my aim is not to silence or dismiss concerns, but rather to offer a framework for facilitating real, open conversation.
Hi, Asia. Thanks for the thought-provoking post.
I have a couple of objections here that I hope will get a good conversation started.
First, it’s of course understandable that a trans woman would be unhappy to hear someone say that trans women are women, that they’re dangerous, that they make cis women uncomfortable, or that they make cis women vulnerable to others. But is this a justification, in itself, for trans women becoming hostile and avoiding the conversation? You say in connection with one of these things, “…resistance and hostility to conversations invoking such an assumption is permissible, if not admirable.” I’d like to put some pressure on that.
By comparison: feminists have often charged that men are a danger to women, that men make women uncomfortable in certain spaces, and so on. That can be hard for men to hear. But does that excuse men from heeding those complaints? Does it justify an automatically hostile reaction? That doesn’t sound right. The feminist complaints are serious and deserve to be heard out and, even if believed to be false, they should at least be fairly disputed.
True, the feminist complaint against men doesn’t include a denial that men are men, while some of Stock’s complaints against trans women implicitly or explicitly deny that they are women. But there are many other common disputes that imply that one side is greatly mistaken about its self-image. For instance, a central part of the self-image of fundamentalist Christians is that they are immortal, fundamentally nonphysical beings taking part in God’s great plan. Atheists hold that they are merely mortal, flesh-and-blood beings and that the God the Christians think they are in regular conversation with is a figment of their imagination. This must be a very upsetting prospect for fundamentalist Christians to consider. Does it follow that atheists have no business arguing against the existence of God, or that fundamentalist Christians have no need to take the arguments of nonbelievers seriously? I don’t see that it does.
My second objection is that I’m not sure it’s fair to call these four things assumptions of Stock’s. I believe, based on what I’ve seen of her work, that she argues for all those points.
I really like your idea that difficult conversations should be made as initially friendly as possible to both sides, insofar as that is consistent with the purposes of philosophical investigation, so as to help resolve the issues by minimizing hostility. Assumptions not shared by both sides and that are unflattering to one of the sides are therefore bad starting points, as you say. But I think it’s different if one side argues for a claim the other side rejects, especially if that claim might be a relevant point in the dispute (as it seems to be in Stock’s arguments).
What do you think?
Hi Justin. Lovely to hear from you!
The quick clarification first: by “assumptions” I mean something like “premises.” I think these premises are sometimes explicit and argued for, but also often implicit and furthermore somewhat entangled. I think this can make it very difficult to track the conversation and pinpoint exactly where disagreement and problems lie. Part of my aim here, then, is simply to make the premises explicit and clearly distinct. I hope this might help curtail talking past each other and also more clearly define the scope and topic of conversation.
Second, I am with you 100% that discomfort does not justify hostility in all cases. I share your intuition about the tone of Men’s Rights Activists that you gesture at here. I do suggest above that what’s at stake for trans women is more than discomfort, and you also acknowledge that there is an asymmetry, insofar as there are material implications. But even if we further grant that uptake of the claim that men are dangerous does have material impact on them, e.g. insofar as it in fact threatens their power, it sounds like you and I would be in agreement that a hostile response from men would still be unwarranted. So, I think this is a fair point that you raise.
What we need, then, is some measure of when hostility, or fierce challenging, of a viewpoint/publicly made claim is warranted.
I’ve suggested here that whether a response of resistance and hostility is normatively appropriate is determined, in part, by one’s social location or context. This is why I introduce as a comparative case the legal status of Black people.
How does your intuition pull if we replace, in Assumptions A-C above, “Black people” for “trans women” and “white people” for “cis women”?
I don’t mean to generalize all discomfort as warranting hostility, but I am compelled by arguments that, for example, Black anger is justified if not admirable: see, for example: http://www.blackpast.org/1981-audre-lorde-uses-anger-women-responding-racism and https://berkleycenter.georgetown.edu/responses/righteous-anger-black-lives-matter-and-the-legacy-of-king). And while racism and transphobia operate differently, I do think there are important similarities. I think that the marginalized status of trans women is more akin to that of Black people than cis white men (of the kind typically driving the Men’s Rights Movement). I thus find the critique of trans hostility akin to the white women that Lorde talks about telling Black women to be less angry.
One last point that I think comes up in the religious example you raise. I’d have to think more about what kind of atheist speech is appropriate (when, where, how, with whom, etc.). But this much I’m confident in: if as an atheist, I wanted to explore the kinds of atheist claims that you list about Christians, specifically in a very public way that stirred up a lot of hatred, I would not then complain when Christians also responded angrily to my speech. I would not suggest that Christians were somehow in the wrong for not being willing to engage in “open dialogue” about the issue. I would understand if they protested my speech, for example, and I would not villainize them for not having better conversational manners. And this is really the main point that I want to bring home in my post here—I don’t think the dialectic that Stock and others gives us has the potential to facilitate genuine, open conversation.
Thanks for this Asia. I do have a question, however: why do you insist on using “cis” for gender critical feminists like Stock who explicitly do not identify as cis? One of the major points of contention in this dispute is the idea that everyone must conceive of themselves as having a gender identity. Gender critical feminists reject the label “cis” because they believe that gender is socially constructed and inherently oppressive, and as such do not identify with it. This is why Stock used the terms “trans women” and “non trans women”.
Moreover, gender critical feminists distinguish between sex and gender, yet here you seem to be only using gender categories as exhaustive. Gender critical feminists argue for continuing practical and theoretical needs to distinguish groups of people according to their sex characteristics. One way to do that is use the acronyms “AFAB” (assigned female at birth) and “AMAB” (assigned male at birth) but most gender critical feminists take it to be the case that to be “assigned” a sex just is to be a member of that sex class. From memory, Stock herself uses the terms “male-bodied people” and “female-bodied people” to pick out these two groups.
I wholeheartedly agree with your point that people should try to approach this discussion in such a way so as to increase the chance of productive exchange. And I appreciate that you did not use the pejorative and generally abusive “TERF”. I just wanted to shed a little more light on the reasons behind the preferred terminology of gender critical feminists in the hope of advancing the conversation further.
“why might the other person with whom I am engaged be hostile in this moment and what limitations or biases am I myself contributing that hinder productive discussion?”
= = =
Great question to ask. Alas, it seems that on many of these issues, only one side is required to ask it.
= = =
I find the very loose use of ‘harm’ here also quite typical today and disturbing. There is a reason why the harm principle, traditionally, has construed ‘harm’ in ways that are relatively narrow and demonstrable.
To move from a specific person’s views regarding gender identity to violence perpetuated against trans people, generally, requires a series of steps — leaps, really — that once taken, run the risk of rendering any discourse on any sensitive issue subject to censorious intervention on the grounds of the harm principle.
Hi Daniel,
Thanks for the post, but I’m not sure I’m tracking your point exactly. You are suggesting that my wider use of the term harm itself interferes with the possibility of genuine open dialogue? If this is your point, could you say more?
For starters, in order to respond directly and effectively to your point, I think I would need to hear more about a) how you think “harm” is best defined and b) how Stock gets that right in a way that I don’t. Because to my eyes, it’s not clear that she is construing “harm” any more narrowly or demonstrably than I am. In which case I would be less worried that my usage somehow uniquely inhibits conversation.
Hi Emily,
Thanks for the question and attempt to help advance the conversation further.
I wasn’t taking on here some of the terminological disagreements that you highlight in your comment, and I don’t want to wade in too far for fear of detracting from my main aims and points in this post, which are again to clarify and redirect Stock’s dialectic. So, I’ll be fairly brief in my response:
I use “cis women” throughout because Stock often refers to herself and, what she calls “non trans women,” simply as “women.” For example, she writes: “This puts women at risk from predatory males who want to take advantage of the loophole.” But in this passage she really means: “This puts cis/non trans women at risk from predatory males who want to take advantage of the loophole.” Thus, she, intentionally or not, excludes trans women from the category of women. So, here, I’m trying to model the practice of, when using the term “women” in a non-inclusive way, carefully tracking which women precisely are being talked about.
As to the question of why I use “cis women” in contrast to some of the other terms you propose: it’s simply consistent with my own commitments, views, and experiences. But I also acknowledge this is complicated (see Enke’s “The Education of Little Cis” and Aultman’s “Cisgender,” for example). I do, fwiw, find insufficient the alternatives you introduce, though more time would be required to give a full explanation of why (perhaps in a future post). I think I’m still able to successfully communicate my point with the term “cis women,” without offense, even though it may not be the preferred language of the “Gender Critical View.” Given that it doesn’t inhibit the aim to invite open, productive conversation, I think it’s okay. Though it may be the case that, once in that conversation, it will be important to either arrive at agreed upon terms or, alternatively, agree to disagree.
Thank you for starting this conversation and continuing it politely. I am trying to wade through my own feelings on all this, and I feel that the black-white analogy doesn’t work, at least, not that way around. You place trans women in the place of people of colour and non-trans women in position of white people – but women have long been oppressed by male people (male bodied people), and although I wouldn’t go as far as to say the metaphor should be reversed (i.e. non-trans women as black, trans women as white), I don’t think it works as it stands because BOTH trans women and non-trans women are oppressed, but in different ways (with some cross over). Both groups therefore may, rightly, feel at risk of bodily or psychological ‘harm’ from the other group. Does that make sense? I wish I didn’t feel it, but I (a non-trans woman) do sometimes need a female only space – and I would gladly share this with trans women on many many occasions, but not on all occasions, as there are some aspects of ‘woman’ which are so tightly bound to what are bodies are supposed or supposed not to be or do, and that it is the male ‘gaze we are trying to escape. It may be that a trans woman has considers her biological-ness quite unimportant and not relevant to her womanhood – but this is a different thing from expecting non-trans women to always, in every situation, to consider the biological aspect irrelevant. Best wishes…
Hi harry,
Thanks for your honest and thoughtful post. I appreciate that you are trying to wade through your own feelings—as I said above, my post isn’t necessarily for folks who already have solidified opinions on the matter, but for those who are genuinely wondering about how/if we can have open discussion on these issues (of the kind Stock calls for).
I think your comment shows the need for me to more explicitly talk about intersectionality. But first, let me just restate why I introduced race as a comparative case:
Justin Kalef was challenging my suggestion that claims or speech that cause discomfort or make others vulnerable sometimes warrant hostility. My response to that was something like: “good, we agree that such speech may not always warrant hostility, but it seems that sometimes it does. I mentioned some views on “Black anger” that I think are really compelling to see if I could get Justin to agree that, at least in some cases, hostile responses are appropriate. If he would agree, then, I suggested, that positions us to have a conversation about when, or under what conditions, such hostility is justified, if not admirable—and I suggested one’s social location plays some role.
I did say that, given that I think there are similarities in the structure and function of transphobia and racism, I think the comparative case is illuminating. But, you are right that, in this discussion, we might need to unpack that more insofar as both groups being discussed (well, I actually think there are many groups invested/involved) face some sort of marginalization.
So, let’s hit that question directly: why do I think a hostile reaction from trans people (a marginalized group) is warranted when cis women (also a marginalized group) endorse trans exclusionary public space?
For me, while cis women are victims of oppression, as you state, I find that they nevertheless enjoy some privileges simply due to their cisness (myself included). I never have to worry about being shamed in a bathroom—or ever being in a state where it is illegal to use the bathroom that makes me most comfortable; I am never called by the wrong pronoun or misgendered; I do not have to worry about how I will legally be connected to my future children; people do not suggest that I do not understand my own gender identity or that I am going through some “phase” in my dresses and earrings; I am almost constantly surrounded by people who share my cisgender identity; while I do encounter gendered microagressions periodically from my students, disgust is not one of them; I am more likely to continue experiencing financial security than my trans counterparts; I can more easily access medical care; I am more likely to continue experiencing acceptance by my family; I see lots of cis women in positions of power who look like me and share my experiences; I am nowhere near the only cis woman in my department or workplace; etc. As a white cis woman, I am likely to outlive most trans women of color by decades. I think the U.S. Transgender Survey gives a nice insight into the unique kind and degree of challenges trans people face: https://www.aglp.org/images/USTS-Executive-Summary-FINAL.pdf
To be clear: I don’t mean to suggest cis women do not also face challenges or dangers. I am still and often treated unfairly compared to cis men. I do endure unwanted sexual attention from cis men and I do regularly worry about sexual violence (and have been victimized in a variety of ways). I do not mean to suggest that cis women do not face any problems.
At the same, time, I think cis women benefit from cisnormativity and transphobia. And trans women (and other trans, non-binary, or gender noncomforming people) are deeply harmed by cisnormativity and transphobia. Thus, on this particular axis I do think my comparative case holds. Of course, intersectionality and context will make various individual cases complicated. But given the general structures, powers, and privileges here, I find it unfair for cis women (from their, albeit relative and complicated, position of privilege) to call for trans activists and allies to “open” “less-hostile” discussion when the above assumptions/premises are being invoked.
That’s the first point I want to make. Does that seem plausible to you? That the trans resistance and hostility is (I could qualify with “often” if that would help) warranted given the kinds of claims implied in the discussion and that, if we want to have a productive conversation about safety, we need to try getting at it in some way other than Stock does?
I do want to make sure I talk a bit about the discomfort you mention experiencing, in some cases, around trans women. I think the issue of discomfort is tricky in the same way that the appropriateness of hostility is tricky. Just as I say to Justin that we need some measure of when hostility, or fierce challenging, of a viewpoint is warranted, I think here, also, we need a measure, or criteria, of when discomfort warrants exclusion.
I suggest above that discomfort doesn’t automatically warrant exclusion. As a baseline, exclusion is often seen as appropriate only when there is a threat of physical danger. But I don’t hear you expressing a worry about physical danger, but rather, perhaps, psychological distress? The question would then be: when does psychological distress warrant exclusion? I certainly don’t have a perfect answer for that complicated question, though again I think social location plays a role (so you might imagine a response similar to the response I give above). I also think it’s worth noting that trans women are likely to/do experience psychological distress, as well as possibly physical harm, if/when excluded from women only spaces and thus forced into men only spaces. So I think further discussion is important, which is what I hear you calling for in your last couple of sentences. As I say above, my main aim here isn’t to give the final answer on the kinds of questions that get raised in Assumptions A-D, but rather to explain why such conversations are challenging and then to give a model for how we might move forward. I’ve been grateful to unpack things in more detail here in the comments, so thank you again for your post.
Thank you, Asia – that indeed makes things clearer for me. I think you are saying that, although women who aren’t trans might feel discomfort and psychological distress, it doesn’t trump the greater psychological distress and risk of bodily harm trans women may experience (in those shared spaces we mentioned). Your list of the ways in which trans women do not have freedoms and ways of living which non-trans women have in a way that draws from ideas about racism is useful. Thank you. I think maybe though the slightly different starting point in terms of our assumptions about the experiences and challenges of both groups of women lead us to frame our positions differently, and this ends up making each of us bristle (not you and I particularly, but more broadly speaking – I don’t feel bristly right now – mainly because you are not shouting at me and you are trying to explain!). So the way you present the ways that trans women are oppressed in relation to ‘cis’ -women and in part by ‘cis’ women I do agree with (I cannot use ‘cis’ without quote marks – it feels so wrong to me – but that is another issue)! Completely would not argue against what you have said. BUT – for me your comparison should always be presented at the same time as its reverse – that BOTH can equally be true – and this is where it gets sticky. The reverse would be that non-trans women see male-bodied people in positions of power, have to fear for their safety because of male bodied people, have been taught to control their bodies, characters, behaviours in line with what male-bodied people have decided is correct for female bodied persons. So the potential for discomfort and harm goes both ways, and I feel that not acknowledging this make whomever gets left out of the comparison feel unheard and unseen and under threat of erasure. I think you might say that the trans women do not benefit/ have not benefited from being male-bodied, but I can’t get my head around that. Like – even small things, such as the research which found male babies are spoken to differently in comparison to female babies and more is expected of them (I can find a ref for this if you like). The socialisation of male babies as superior (more likely to be active, to be boisterous, be vocal, etc) than female babies (expected to be cute and play with dolls) starts really early. So again I bristle when I am told by a male bodied person that they have never had any male privilege. I agree (I think) that an individual trans women on any given day is likely to be under more immediate danger – but then this must be balanced against the fact that non-trans women are about half of the worlds’ population, and most of that population are not white, not well off, and experience sexism in ways I as a white woman do not. Anyway – so for me – I find it hard to have a calm discussion when I feel non-trans women and their histories of having a really shit time are not considered as equal to the histories of trans women having a really shit time. I also find it hard when my idea of womanhood, as something closely tied to the way in which patriarchal society has shaped me because of how it sees my female body and biology, is dismissed. I’m just a bit like – hang on – what do yo mean? Are you saying all this time I have been wrong and that being a woman has nothing at all to do with my sex, or that sex is unimportant? What does this mean then, for the way the trans woman community value or believe non-trans women’s experiences of womanhood which are mostly about their bodies and imposed socialisation? Just like a trans women, a non-trans woman wants to be heard and respected, not to be told her idea and experience of womanhood is the wrong one. Ah – and breathe – sorry – this was meant to a clear, brief reply – and I have gone a rambling with it. Hope it makes sense. Probably it comes down to a feeling that both parties need to be heard, and believed, and to try not to tell others how they must think. xx
Hi harry,
Thanks for another thoughtful post. You’ve pushed me to think more deeply about things here, and I think you are right that there is much we do/could agree upon. So I appreciate your making explicit points where we overlap.
Before I dive into more of the content of the ideas here, I just want to circle back one more time to the aim of my original post, which was to explore the possibility of open, genuine dialogue. As some of the comments here made me feel pessimistic about that, yours have helped me maintain some optimism. I think together we have modeled nicely that such conversation is possible, if handled carefully. So thank you!
With that, onward.
First, I’m very sympathetic to the struggle you mention about having your ideas of womanhood challenged, or not taken seriously. I’ll admit that I find myself feeling confused, also, sometimes, about my femininity in light of certain concepts of transfemininity. I find myself asking “if that’s (x,y, and z) what it means to be feminine, am I not feminine?” So, I hear you on the discomfort there. Given the way in which I see myself as having significant privilege in comparison to my trans women counterparts, I try to struggle with those questions/thoughts/worries in a way that doesn’t further burden them.
We’re a little out of my depth regarding the relationship between oppression of trans women and male privilege, so I did a search to see if I could find any resources that might be helpful. I really liked what Emi Koyama says in her Transfeminist Manifesto about this, specifically in the section titled “The Question of Male Privilege.” http://www.confluere.com/readings/pdf-rdg/tfmanifesto.pdf She doesn’t necessarily offer a way to adjudicate the tension you are describing, but I think you’ll appreciate that her honesty sets the stage for the tough conversation.
I don’t mean in my post to erase cis women’s (it sounds like we’re ok disagreeing on the terminology here?) experiences or suggest that cis women haven’t had a shit time, as you say. Perhaps that does happen in other conversational circles, but not the ones I’m most familiar with. I hope my “suggestion” above for how to start an open conversation (“There are a number of complicated issues…”) shows a willingness to take seriously the stakes for a variety of invested groups.
And, again, here’s what I really want folks to take away from my post (sorry for the repetition, but I think it’s just so important): Stock does a huge disservice (at best) by presenting sexual violence in protected spaces as if this is a concern of only Gender Critical Feminists. She sets us all up against each other from the get go. And her seemingly very reasonable calls for open dialogue add insult to this injury.
We do not have to be opposed. I reject Miroslav’s framing below: “The question is whose rights are more important to us.” This is not the question. This is a false dichotomy that only further divides. While I have suggested that the interests of those in more marginalized social positions ought to be given priority and serious consideration, this suggestion does not entail that everyone else can go to hell or be neglected or that their rights don’t matter. Living in diverse, pluralistic societies is hard. I do not have all of the answers for how to navigate it all, but I am 100% confident that much (not all) of the existing conversation is not guiding us in the right direction.
I wanted to show my friends and colleagues who read Stock’s pieces and thought “hmm, good question,” the, at best, neglect in the divisive analysis. I wanted them to see that there are good reasons for trans people and activists to be up in arms about posts like hers. And I wanted them to see that there is another way forward.
But now, I am the one going on. Thanks again for opening up this space, harry.
“One can’t derive the moral claim that trans women should be excluded from resources and spaces like homeless shelters, rape crises centers, changing rooms, hostels, public transport sleeping carriages, etc. from the descriptive claim that “Trans women aren’t women.””
True, and one cannot derive the moral claim that trans women should be included in resources and spaces like women’s shelters, rape crisis centers, etc. from the descriptive claim that “Trans women are women”. Yet the assumption that one can is prevalent in the trans activist movement. ‘Trans women are women, therefore they ought to be included in women’s spaces’ is a pretty standard fallacious argument made by Western Anglophone trans activists (even the ones with a PhD in philosophy). In fact they even go so far as to commit this equivocation fallacy in the context of sexual orientation, arguing that a lesbian ought to be attracted to trans women because ‘trans women are women’.
This may not be related to the main thesis of your article, but I wanted to make this point because I was glad to see someone on ‘the other side’ (I’m mostly on the same side as Kathleen Stock on these issues, though not entirely) acknowledge that the mere [pseudo-]ontological claim that ‘trans women are women’ is not enough to establish any of what they think and act like it establishes.
Let’s add some empirical data to the debate:
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/unisex-changing-rooms-put-women-in-danger-8lwbp8kgk
https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2018/sep/09/sexual-assaults-in-womens-prison-reignite-debate-over-transgender-inmates-karen-white
Hi Miroslav,
Do you want to say a bit more about how your comment connects up to my analysis here? I’m not following exactly which of my points you are contending.
Excellent point Harry; and exactly why the race analogy is fundamentally flawed.
Hi Lynne,
I agree with you that harry raises some points worth further discussing. I disagree, however, that race as a comparative case is “fundamentally flawed,” but I do grant that intersectionality makes it complicated. I have some more thoughts in response to harry’s post that I plan to get posted when I have a bit more time tomorrow.
Hi. I’ve published a response to this piece here. As the blog piece published here makes serious and potentially damaging points about my academic integrity – and since one of your associate editors has recently been discovered to have been writing abusive comments about me in a number of fora – I trust you will allow this comment to go through. Thanks. https://medium.com/@kathleenstock/my-response-to-dr-asia-ferrin-188ad6243219
Sorry if it was unclear. Stock has not harmed anyone by writing and expressing her views re: the gender critical position, at least not in any sense of ‘harm’ that should be relevant with regard to what should and should not be permissible to write and say in a liberal society. That someone else, somewhere else, believes that views like hers justify assaulting trans people has no bearing on this fact and to suggest otherwise — that she is somehow responsible for that — is unfair in the extreme and inconsistent with basic liberal values. We rightly curtail speech that consists of incitements to violence. We don’t rightly curtail speech that, in spite of not constituting any such incitement, might lead some person, somewhere, sometime to do something bad.
The sort of expansion of the harm principle urged by social justice activists so as to include all manner of subjective discomfort, offense, etc., is dangerous in a liberal society, precisely because it begs for a kind of offense-arms-race that renders discourse on difficult and controversial topics impossible.
The gender critical position not long ago was the mainstream view in feminism (Marlo Thomas’ classic “Free to Be You and Me” is essentially an extended gender critical argument, pitched at a level accessible to children) and had nothing to do with trans people, but rather with the discriminatory effect of traditional gender roles and tropes. That position takes on a new relevance in the current debate and not only is not “hateful,” but is clearly relevant and should be permissible both in academic and public discourse, without having one’s person and career threatened, as Stock and others have had done to them, in the appalling Goldsmith incident, reported on by the Times of London, on September 8.
Hi Daniel,
I’ve seen you write this criticism of the expansion of the notion of harm before, and I am sympathetic to an extent, but doesn’t your criticism push things too far in the other direction? Consider dehumanizing rhetoric. It is not itself a call to violence but inevitably leads to the ill treatment of the groups it talks about when it becomes widespread and accepted by a populace. There is no place for such rhetoric in a liberal society of citizens of equal standing under the law.
I would be happier with the claim of: we must consider, case by case, whether such expansions of claims of harm are warranted or not, rather than making blanket judgments of their correctness or exaggeration. For the trans activists do often offer arguments explaining the nature of the harms that this or that piece of rhetoric might have. Those claims may stand up to scrutiny or they may not, but a blanket rejection opens the door for those genuinely transphobic persons in society who cook up all kinds of nonsense and paranoia about trans people to spew whatever they want in an attempt to push a way of thinking that would indeed and has led to harm against trans persons, that would lead to prejudice against them, to fear-based ostracizing, and sometimes even to physical violence. Claims of harm concerning this kind of rhetoric might be warranted.
Hi daniel,
Thanks for the clarification. I still think, though, that you aren’t really engaging with my points or analysis here. Which is ok, I just think it’s worth pointing out that you’re talking past me a bit. For example, you write:
“Stock has not harmed anyone by writing and expressing her views re: the gender critical position, at least not in any sense of ‘harm’ that should be relevant with regard to what should and should not be permissible to write and say in a liberal society.”
I didn’t claim, though, that Stock has harmed anyone and/or that it was impermissible for her to write what she did. I said something a little more nuanced, specifically:
#1 “Furthermore, when this assumption gets airtime and uptake from less well-intentioned individuals or groups, trans women’s lives can be compromised in physical, social, ontological, and political ways.”
What do you think about this particular claim (#1)?
I say, relatedly, about Assumption A, that “it is often used to discriminate against and justify violence toward trans women.” Again, not making a specific claim about whether Stock’s speech itself harms (though I do have thoughts on that), but rather that it can be used to justify or incite harm.
Second, I have not suggested here that Stock should be censored or lose her right to free speech. Instead, I’ve focused on whether her call for “open, respectful” dialogue on the issue is reasonable or fair. I have suggested that it is unfair because the kinds of claims she invokes in her analysis are likely to/do generate strong negative emotions for trans activists and allies. I say, thus, for example:
#2 “Thus, I find it unreasonable and unfair for Stock to request “open” and “less-hostile” dialogue while simultaneously invoking this assumption. It feels like men asking women to have a “less hysterical” and “genuinely open” conversation about whether women are rational enough to work outside of the home… I suspect many feminists, Stock included, would not arrive “openly” to such a conversation.”
What do you think about my point here (#2)?
Note that I’m again, not suggesting that Stock’s speech should be restricted. You might extend from my points something like: #3 “Let us grant, for the sake of argument, that Stock has the right to say what she wants. I would certainly also have the right to be pretty upset about it and say what I want in return, even if hostile or disrespectful. So why is Stock “demanding” that I not?”
What do you think of this last point (#3)?
I’m also largely sympathetic to what gradstudent says (thanks gradstudent!), but I’m bracketing further discussion there for now to see how you feel about these three specific claims I make in my piece. Again, if you prefer not to address these claims specifically, that’s fine. But let’s acknowledge, then, that we’re talking past each other.
The debate a perfect example of low information rationality. But that’s what philosophy is, isn’t it?
There’s a reason laws are based on facts not subjectivism.
Feelings don’t matter. The facts as judged by others do.
http://www.courant.com/sports/high-schools/hc-sp-hs-transgender-high-school-athletes-0520-story.html
If boy declares himself a girl, can s/he sue under Title IX?
Is Rachel Dolezal Black because she says so?
A flat-chested brunette with a big nose and protruding chin, goes to a surgeon and then a hair salon and comes out a big breasted blonde with an small nose and dimpled chin. How would the reactions differ if the brunette were female, or male?
Write me a short history of gay male misogyny. It’s not hard to do. But it would take some research, not navel gazing.
I can call myself a liberal, but if I defend conservative arguments in every case, am I a liberal? Do I have the right to be insulted if people refuse to accept my self-definition? If Israelis start calling themselves Palestinians will that resolve anything? Only in the mind of Israelis.
Here’s the best article on trans ideology. Better than anything by Stock.
http://review.antiochcollege.org/sacred-androgen-transgender-debate-daniel-harris
Stock has written an excellent, on-point response over at Medium.
https://medium.com/@kathleenstock/my-response-to-dr-asia-ferrin-188ad6243219
Recently, a Twitter thread by Gabrielle Blair (@designmom) on abortion went viral. One of the points that comes through most vividly in the thread is the massive extent to which the world is structured to cater to the needs of males; the massive extent to which females are socialised to cater the needs of males; the extent of which can be more or less invisible until someone points it out. The fact that the thread has been liked and shared so many times shows how much it’s resonating with people. But abortion is just one of countless examples one could give. She’s reproduced it at her blog for easier reading:
https://www.designmom.com/twitter-thread-abortion/
I mention this because so many feminists will not have any difficulty at all in acknowledging Blair’s point, and yet will entirely fail to notice that Ferrin, in her reply to Stock, makes exactly this tired old move of putting male’s needs over female’s. Perhaps this is equally invisible to Ferrin. Stock puts this point perfectly in her reply:
“According to Ferrin, the third assumption I make, which accounts for the righteous hurt which my interlocutors feel as they argue with me, is this: ‘C) Trans women are not necessarily dangerous, but they do make some cis women uncomfortable in these more intimate spaces.’
This one made me laugh. Say that the assumption is true. As a matter of fact, I think it is. So females (‘cis women’) feel discomfort at sharing these spaces, AND, according to Ferrin, trans women feel discomfort at hearing about this discomfort. But whose discomfort should care about, according to Ferrin? Trans women’s, stupid! This is a bit of a theme for Ferrin, and for my critics generally. If there is violence, pain, or discomfort to be noticed and alleviated, it is that which trans women suffer, not females.”
I encourage everyone to read Stock’s reply. The link is in the comments above.
Hi Asia,
I think Emily Vincendese’s question to you is an important one. I wasn’t satisfied with your response, but I’ll look out for the future post you speak of. In that post, I’d appreciate it if answers to the following two questions were provided: 1) Is continuing to mis-label Kathleen Stock (and others) as ‘cis’ — especially after they have expressly requested that you don’t– tantamount to someone continuing to refer to a trans woman as ‘Mr’ after she has requested she be referred to as ‘Ms’? 2) If ‘cis’ refers to someone’s internal subjective sense of their own personal identity, is it morally right to label someone ‘cis’ before you have even asked them? Is it even appropriate to ask someone this highly personal question? And if you mis-label someone as ‘cis’, and they’re forced to correct you, haven’t you just forced them to ‘out’ themselves?
Thanks,
Erin.
Hi Asia, the news items from the UK, which I posted earlier, highlight that the fears of women* about their safe spaces (that people with sinister motives – usually men – will gain access under the guise of being a trans woman) are not unfounded. Such concerns are routinely dismissed as transphobic and as lacking any basis in fact. Assumption D cannot be brushed aside so easily – the harm to women, at least in the UK, is not ‘anecdotal’, it is real.
Both women and trans women (or trans men) are protected groups in UK society. When it comes to women’s safe spaces or women-only spaces, their interests clash. The question is whose rights are more important to us. Do we value the protection of women within their safe spaces (from predatory men) more than allowing access to these safe spaces to trans women and anyone pretending to be a trans woman? Who does or might experience the greater/more serious harm? Women might suffer psychological harm but also physical harm (sexual violence). Trans women might suffer the psychological harm of exclusion.
This issues has come to the fore in the UK because of proposed changes to the law. The Gender Recognition Act (2004) makes provision for people to change their gender status, but this requires that they produce various forms of evidence (medical reports, living in their preferred gender for two years, etc.). Some trans people reject these legal requirements as oppressive, because this ‘medicalised approach pathologises trans identities’ (Miller-Report 2016: 3). Furthermore, not everyone aims to pass as a woman.
There is a new understanding of gender and what it means to be a woman among some trans people. ‘Trans identities take a wide diversity of forms’ (Miller-Report 2016: 5). You may look like a ‘man’ but feel to be a woman inside (most trans women keep their male genitalia). Or you may sport a Karl-Marx-type beard and show off your breasts at the same time and assert that you are a woman. A transgender woman might want to be registered as the mother of her children although she ‘fathered’ them – in tradition parlance. Thus, the transgender conception of woman (for some activists) differs from the hetero-normative idea of what it is to be a woman. Also, the trans umbrella appears to be quite wide: including cross dressers – e.g. males/females who experience sexual pleasure from dressing as women/men, but who don’t feel they were ‘born in the wrong body.’
The UK government is looking to change the current legislation (see the ‘Miller-Report’ 2016), presumably in order to reflect the changed social reality. One of the proposals being discussed is that self-declaration as a woman (or man) would suffice in order to change your gender. Thus, there would be no more pressure on transgender people to conform to the medicalised tests and to strive to pass as a woman (or man). Some might want to change sex (i.e. a medical intervention), some might not but would still want to pass as a woman, and some might not want to pass at all. Under the proposed legislation, no matter what their gender presentation might be, they could all claim to be a woman. It is obvious how transgender people see the proposed legislation as liberating. Note that many transsexuals do not want self ID, or to remove the safeguarding process around transitioning. There are divisions in the trans community about this isssue, with transsexuals receiving abuse for their position.
At present the ‘exemption clause’ in the Equality Act 2010 permits women-only spaces. This means that ‘discrimination’ (i.e. drawing a distinction) can be lawful when it has a legitimate aim – here, to protect someone on the grounds of their sex. For example, it is lawful for a local authority to fund a women-only refuge.
Similarly, trans women could be excluded from women-only spaces. Here is an example from the Explanatory Notes to the Equality Act 2010 (p. 157):
‘A group counselling session is provided for female victims of sexual assault. The organisers do not allow transsexual people to attend as they judge that the clients who attend the group session are unlikely to do so if a male-to-female transsexual person was also there. This would be lawful.’
The Barrister advising the Miller Committee, Claire McCann, commented specifically on this example from the Explanatory Notes to the Equality Act 2010 and stated that (Miller-Report: 30) ‘this example is drafted too categorically’. And the Committee members have followed this view (Section 132):
‘These are sensitive areas, where there does need to be some limited ability to exercise discretion, if this is a proportionate means of achieving a legitimate aim. However, we are not persuaded that this discretion should apply where a trans person has been recognised as of their acquired gender “for all legal purposes” under the Gender Recognition Act. In many instances this is unlikely, in any case, to meet the proportionate test.’
The example from the 2010 explanatory notes (a group counselling session is provided for female victims of sexual assault) appears to be the strongest case for excluding trans women from a women-only space. But the Miller Report indicates that the committee believed that even in such a case an exclusion of trans women might not be appropriate. Their rationale presumably is that if the law recognises a trans person as a woman, ‘for all legal purposes’, then all spaces which were hitherto reserved for women must be open to trans women as well.
Thus the proposed legislation might set back the interests of women in two distinct ways: by making it easier for male predators to enter their safe spaces, and by taking away the possibility of lawfully excluding trans women from certain women only spaces (e.g. group counselling sessions for female victims of sexual assault).
In light of recent events in UK prisons I think the Miller report is wrong in suggesting that we can do away with lawful exclusion of trans people. For example, I would suggest that male prisoners who have a history of (sexual) violence against women and who, while in prison, claim to be trans, should be barred from being transferred to female prisons. Many institution in the UK (the prison service, the Labour Party, the Girl Guides, etc.) have jumped the legislative gun – they only require self-identification in order to be recognised as trans and ignore the legal requirements of the Gender Recognition Act.
Women commonly experience sexual harassment and violence from men. It is therefore understandable that they resent the idea of opening up their safe spaces to people who may have male genitalia, exhibit some male features, who present as males, or who are sexually attracted to females. As a result women wouldn’t feel safe anymore. I submit that the potential physical harm, fear and anxiety of women about these issues, their lived experience, cannot be brushed aside as mere ‘transphobia’. Claiming that trans women also experience (sexual) violence and this somehow makes them sisters in arms doesn’t mean that both groups belong in the same (women only) spaces. Pushing one marginalised group into the space of another marginalised group may actually increase the prospect of harm – especially physical harm for women, through male predators masquerading as trans women.
I will end with some brief remarks about other issues. You write about Kathleen Stock: ‘it comes out very explicitly and angrily in comments posted by her supporters.’ You cannot hold Stock responsible for comments made by her supporters. You impute ‘maliciousness’ to Stock – I think, particularly as philosophers, we should practice philosophical charity rather than impute such motives to others. The word ‘perhaps’ to qualify ‘malicious’ is simply a hedge. Other commentators have pointed out that the use of the word ‘harm’ needs further specification. Here I have mostly distinguished between physical harm (assault) and psychological harm. But we need to be more precise about what is meant by psychological harm: causing fear, anxiety, distress, alarm, being offended, anger, resentment…? This would help with assessing competing claims/demands. For example, in what way is a public meeting about the concerns of women with regard to changes to the Gender Recognition Act causing ‘harm’ to the trans community? Conceptual clarity about what counts as ‘harm’ would help us in practical decision-making: whose rights should take precedence in a particular context?
*[By ‘women’ I mean persons who were assigned female sex at birth.]
gradstudent wrote:
Consider dehumanizing rhetoric. It is not itself a call to violence but inevitably leads to the ill treatment of the groups it talks about when it becomes widespread and accepted by a populace. There is no place for such rhetoric in a liberal society of citizens of equal standing under the law.
= = =
I’m afraid I categorically disagree. Indeed, this is precisely what one has to endure in a liberal society. It’s the price of liberty and of a properly constrained harm principle.
And as I indicated in my comment, I also entirely reject the idea that Stock or anyone else in her position is in any way responsible for violence against trans people, just because some other person holds some views similar to hers on the subject. Certainly, no court would accept the tortured causal logic involved. (The more this madness goes on, the more grateful I am for courts.)
For anyone interested, I just published something myself on these issues.
**The APA blog spam filter won’t let me post a link. It’s the essay at The Electric Agora, titled, “Just Stop It.”
HI Steve,
Thanks for the comment. I agree that honesty is important, but I think I’ve modeled the kind of honesty you are calling for very explicitly above. I explain that I do think it’s important to talk about potential harm and violence, but I think it’s very difficult to do so productively under Stock’s framing. I offer an alternative framing:
“There are a number of complicated issues surrounding policies and practices aimed at furthering inclusivity for transgender people. Here, I want to focus on a recent policy change proposed in the UK, namely an extension of legal recognition to transgender people who simply self-identify as such, without any additional criteria.While I understand that the aim of this particular expansion is to make trans lives more livable, an aim I applaud, one worry that arises is that the policy will also make it easier for some cis men to gain access to women only spaces with the intention of causing harm to cis and/or trans women. No one wins when such abuses occur. Thus, I invite folks (all kinds: cis women, trans women, cis and trans men feminist allies, straight and queer people, those identifying as none of the above) to think with me about how we might address this potential for increased violence while recognizing the value of having more inclusive spaces.”
I don’t see this as call to discuss vague academic concerns, but rather an invitation to talk about real world concerns and how to deal with them. These include the real world concerns of cis (and trans) women. I very straightforwardly mention harm and violence, while acknowledging the challenges to such conversations.
I’d be interested to hear whether you would be willing and eager to accept my invitation to participate in the kind of conversation that I have proposed, and why or why not?
Asia: Given the outright abuse Stock is receiving simply for airing her views — views that as I have argued, are perfectly within the norms of acceptable discourse, by any reasonable measure, unless one is a hopeless ideologue — to the point now that she has had an organized campaign directed at depriving her of her livelihood (see the Goldsmiths campaign reported on in the Times of London), I think her calling for civility is 100% warranted. I have done the same myself, in an essay I published, entitled “Stop It.” (The APA blog won’t let me post links.)
Your argument rests on a conception of “harm” that I have argued is unjustly and dangerously inflated when applied to speech and writing of the sort that Stock is producing.
So, I think I have been discussing your piece on point, and not talking past you. We just profoundly disagree.
As an FYI to all commentators, and in response to Daniel’s trouble posting links, it is possible to add links to websites in your comments. All you have to do is follow the instructions here.
Thanks to everyone for their valuable contributions to the debate surrounding this article.
Hi all,
Just wanted to say thanks for many of the comments here–I appreciate the questions and challenges that opened up room for further discussion. I don’t think I have anything else to add at this time. I hope the conversation can continue in productive ways in other spaces!
-Asia
Thanks Asia – your efforts were appreciated. I found it really useful, so thanks for engaging. Your last reply helped me to better see what the key issues are dividing us more clearly, which is the first step, I guess. Best wishes, Harry x