Why We Cannot Ignore the War Against Gender
LGBT activists want to demolish the gender binary. We cannot collaborate with a disorder — but we can compassionately walk alongside those who struggle.
Since 2004, I have given careful attention to the rising tide of gay activism, and I have watched as that activism has expanded from “gay, lesbian, and bisexual” to “gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender” and beyond.
I have documented that expansion in detail in two books, published in 2011 and 2015, and I have written countless articles and devoted numerous radio shows that focus on these issues as well.
Can anything more be said at this point? Is there anything beyond witnessing Bruce “Caitlyn” Jenner being crowned Glamour Magazine’s woman of the year? Is there anything beyond laws being passed which require schools to allow boys who identify as girls to share the girls’ bathrooms and locker rooms? Is there anything beyond Facebook offering 50 different ways to describe your gender, and when that’s not enough, giving the option of “Fill in the Blank”?
The answer is absolutely yes, and that’s why I and other concerned leaders continue to raise our voices: We must not surrender the foundational nature of what critics deride as the “gender binary,” namely, the dividing of human beings into categories of male and female.
This does not mean that we do not have compassion on those who do not fit neatly into either category (such as those born with ambiguous or dual genitalia), but we see this as a handicap rather than something to normalize.
And while we certainly feel pain for biological boys who believe they are girls and biological girls who believe they are boys, we do not turn the world upside down on their behalf, imposing their struggles on the rest of their classmates and friends, and we certainly do not celebrate their struggles as something praiseworthy.
In contrast, LGBT activists want to demolish the gender binary, claiming that gender is not what’s between your legs but what’s between your ears, meaning that, ultimately, gender is whatever you perceive it to be. Not only so, but according to LGBT activism, the rest of the world must recognize whatever you perceive to be your gender reality, regardless of how farfetched that perception might be.
What prompts me to bring this up yet again is a story that appeared on ABC News about a “gender fluid” 12-year-old in Australia. As reported in the Daily Mail headline, “‘Some days Annie is a girl, some days Annie is a boy and some days she’s both’: The 12-year-old whose gender changes on a daily basis depending on how they feel.”
The story continues, “A gender fluid child who at 10-years-old decided they did not identify as a girl or a boy says their identity can change throughout the day causing a lot of ‘doubt’ in their mind.”
Now, forgive me if I find these lines objectionable, but I will not go along with this for one split second. This confused child, to whom my heart goes out, is not both male and female, her gender does not change by the day, and she is not “they.”
With all respect to the child’s mother, I must categorically reject her statement that “some days Annie is a girl, some days Annie is a boy and some days she’s both.” I mean no disrespect in all this, and I have often asked myself what I would do if my own child (or, now, grandchild) struggled deeply with gender identify confusion.
At the same time: 1) it is playing games with reality to state that Annie is a boy one day, a girl the next, and both on other days; 2) it is trashing the English language (and common sense) to refer to Annie as “they”; and 3) it is an assault on the sensibilities and rights of others to think that teachers, classmates, and schools should give special privileges to “Annie,” depending on how he/she/they feels/feel on a given day.
I have cautioned those who advocate for perception being reality, urging them to be careful what they wish for, and I have pointed out how, once this door is opened, there is no way to shut it. The bigger problem, however, is that the more we let the Annie’s of this world define reality (let alone celebrate their perception of reality) the less we are able to help them.
True love requires us to refuse to collaborate with a disorder but rather to recognize it, get to the root of it, and help correct it. And so, rather than accepting Annie’s struggles as reality, compassion calls us to come alongside and help make her whole.
Perversely, LGBT activists call that attitude bigotry. Reality calls it love.