By
Michael Brendan Dougherty
Wednesday,
February 01, 2023
When transgenderism
seemed to be a phenomenon confined only to the tiniest handful of adults, it
occasioned very little serious debate. It was tied up in the public mind with
drag performance, or transvestitism. Like belonging to a tiny religious sect,
it was accepted as the sort of thing a poor soul at the margins might find
helpful to cope with life. And there the phenomenon’s strange metaphysics about
being “born in the wrong body” would remain as ignored as the prophecies of
doomsday issued by the Jehovah’s Witnesses’ magazine The Watchtower.
Sex-change
surgery was the subject of an obscure 1970s-era medical debate. Johns Hopkins
Hospital had first offered a “change of sex operation” in 1966. Thirteen years
later, after concurring with a study by Jon Meyer that the surgery conveyed “no
objective advantage in terms of social rehabilitation,” the procedures were
halted by chief of psychiatry Paul McHugh. Thirty-eight years later, Hopkins
reversed its reversal and resumed what it now called “gender affirming” care.
A year
later, the subject of transgenderism was about kids. In the U.K, it was then
noticed that the number of young people referred for “gender treatment”
increased from 97 in 2009 to 2,510 in 2017–2018, a more than 4,000 percent
increase in just one decade. And because children are subject to
their parents, and subject to publicly funded institutions, which are in turn
subject to public definitions about abuse and proper safety, the transgender
debate involves every single human being.
It would
help if we could engage in this with some measure of understanding, but judging
by a column from the normally sharp Fintan
O’Toole, I think we cannot.
O’Toole’s
subject is the Irish schoolteacher Enoch Burke, an Evangelical Christian who
refused to conform to his school’s expectation that he accommodate a non-binary
student who wanted to be addressed with “they/them” pronouns rather than
gendered pronouns. Burke refused. He continued to show up at the school,
despite a suspension, saying that his right to his religious convictions had
been violated. He faced arrest, fines. He spent some time in jail. And
basically he’s been the subject of universal scorn and ridicule throughout the
country for months.
O’Toole
just uses the legal ground on which Burke has defended himself, the
constitutional protection offered to religious believers, to smear him. The
column is little more than repeatedly saying: He’s religious! Therefore he’s
not just wrong and disgusting, but emblematic of every wrong in centuries of
our sad, corpse-strewn history.
Because
Burke refused to follow one court order to stay away from the school, O’Toole
dismisses Burke’s claim to any civil disobedience at all.
This is not, then, classic civil disobedience, which involves defying
the law and accepting the consequences. It is, rather, a claim to enjoy a very
special privilege: everyone else (and specifically the board of Wilson’s
Hospital) should obey the court but Burke does not have to do so.
This is
of course circular. Burke simply defied a second instance of the law — a court
order to accept his suspension — and he accepted the consequences following
from that, imprisonment. What O’Toole is doing is trying to wash away the
state’s and society’s agency in imprisoning or punishing Burke. O’Toole then
sums up Burke’s claim as one that holds “that religious righteousness trumps
everybody else’s rights.”
O’Toole
argues:
These are not abstract questions. Transitioning is a difficult process
for a young person. It is a matter of basic safety that a student who is in the
middle of that process is treated with kindness and understanding. There is a
duty of care.
Indeed.
But we should pause to take note what a strange duty this is. Are there any
other medical or psychiatric treatments that require the active, conscious, and
affirming disposition of potentially every member of society? This seems like
something quite new in the world.
Later
O’Toole tries to imagine what’s in Burke’s mind, which O’Toole asserts is “to
tell the student that what they are doing is an abomination.” And that the
student and their family must “live with a regime that inflicts daily suffering
and creates a serious danger of lasting psychological harm.” That Burke is
fighting to have his personal beliefs endorsed, and another person’s right to
care denied.
But so
far Burke hasn’t asked to give out in such a caricatured way. Isn’t it just
possible that Burke believes that gender transition itself is a psychological
and potential physical harm? And therefore his conscience is offended by the
request that he do something he believes will harm the student? He may fear
that his participation in this affirmation may help lead a student to the
druggist who will render the child
permanently infertile, or to the surgeon’s knife,
where a large chuck
of arm muscle can be irreparably torn off to
form the non-working simulacrum of a sex organ, rendering them incontinent and condemning them to a
lifetime of further surgery. This is what is included now under the Orwellian
term “gender affirmation.” Needless to say, it’s an open question whether
consigning people to these treatments amounts to care, or a kind of
ideologically self-satisfied neglect.
While
it’s certainly true that religious believers are more likely to believe that
biological girls grow into women, and boys into men, the reality of sexual
dimorphism is not some private religious conviction unique to Christians. J. K.
Rowling isn’t some Holy Joe. In fact, it is the transgender-affirming side of
the debate that resorts to strange metaphysical claims about “female brains in
male bodies” or the mysterium fascinosum of gender fluidity.
Could it be that today’s psychologists, therapists, and surgeons could be as
misguided as their predecessors were in the age of lobotomies? If not, then
O’Toole should write with the zeal of Saint Paul about the revelations reserved
for our time.
Finally,
O’Toole invokes the history of the Irish state’s endorsing religion over the
rights of others. He recalls the horror that religious schools fired teachers
who didn’t conform to the schools’ religious ethos, or forced them to take
their identity into a closet. Which is funny, since he is composing a column
vindicating the idea that Burke must take his own conscience and identity into
the closet, or accept his dismissal. Despite his invocation of “pluralism” and
a “multicultural society,” this exact symmetry neatly illustrates that we are
dealing with one imposed orthodoxy triumphing over another. And just as the
priests and nuns before him, O’Toole uses the moral imperative of saving a
child as the rationale for this orthodoxy.
So happy
to dismiss Burke as “religious,” O’Toole avoids the real question: Is it true? And
should untruths be compulsory?
I
suppose if Winston Smith had been an Irishman rather than a sassanach,
he would have possessed the extraordinary inner resources O’Toole displays in
this column, the one that turns real acquiescence into imagined rebellion.
Writing 2+2=5, in the dust at the Chestnut Tree Cafe, Smith could have
contented himself that he had done something else besides submitting to Big
Brother. The sherry glass would begin dancing in his
hand as he realized the same
equation would have infuriated Archbishop McQuaid and upset all the Christian Brothers at
Scoil Chiaráin.
No comments:
Post a Comment