of gender in any individual’s sense of self.
--
Baroness Hale, President of the Supreme Court
In 2016, writer Sara Ahmed interviewed
American academic Judith Butler for the journal Sexualities. The interview meanders around various topics, such as the
formation and performance of sexual identity and the construction and institutional
boundary policing of academic disciplines, but rebounds repeatedly off the
central item of interest to both interviewer and interviewee – namely, Butler
herself. In response to a question about professional, academic vulnerability, Butler has
this (among much else) to say about how early in our lives we become vulnerable
to the labels and expectations of others.
If, for instance, we think about gender assignment as ‘being called a name’ then we are affected by gender terms before we have any sense of what they mean or any understanding of what kind of effects they have. Indeed, this follows, I think, from the fact that we are affected by the ways we are addressed, and those modes of address start early and against our will; they are there, as it were, from the start. Sometimes those modes of address embrace and animate, but they can inaugurate a chain of injury as well.
In this passage, the labels and
expectations that matter to Butler are gendered.
On Butler’s view, our vulnerability is universal, but not everyone who is
vulnerable (i.e. subject) to gendered modes of address is injured by them. A
problem arises, for Butler, not with gendered terms, but with the imposition of
the incorrect gender terms. On that
view, I am not intrinsically harmed, there is no injustice done against me, by
the imposition of certain gendered terms of naming which go on to shape and
channel my psychological development; I can only claim to have been so harmed
if I grow up to strongly disidentify with the specific terms assigned me. To put
it more plainly: if someone calls me a bitch, that is an injustice only inasmuch
as I strongly feel I ought to have been called a bastard.
This line of thinking is again plainly
evident in Butler’s recent New Statesman piece, where she repeatedly references
‘gender freedom’ as the ability to choose one’s gender: ‘one may be born a
female, but become a man.’ The problem, on this view, is that we ought not to
force gendered modes of address on children and young people because we don’t
know whether they will grow up to identify with the terms we choose (typically
the terms aligned with their sexed body). We should wait and find out from the
child themselves how they choose to identify in future.
This approach seems perhaps eccentric
but basically innocuous: what’s wrong after all in not imposing our ideologies
on infants? But it betrays a way of thinking about gender that is not simply
misguided, it is deeply injurious to the absolute majority of people –
especially women – who don’t go through a process of pointedly rejecting their identification with the feminine gender
and don’t take steps to switch to the opposite, masculine gender (become men)
or to the still ill-defined and ambiguous “non-binary” identification. To illustrate
by analogy:
Say you happen to be a Nazi bureaucrat
during the 1930s in Germany. If, as part of your administrative role, you slap
a yellow star on a non-Jew, the injustice does not reside in the
misidentification. The non-Jew might object that he is ‘not one of those people’
and feel aggrieved – they have been, to use a parallel construction to ‘misgendered’,
‘mis-raced’. From outside the logic of Nazism, however, we see that the problem
here is not that there are ‘those people’, the abject and inferior ones, whom
it is our responsibility to correctly sort into the proper category in order to
achieve a just disposition of racial identity. The injustice, instead, resides
is the existence of a system of thought that divides people into castes, and a
system of symbols that enforces the division. If you wanted to make sure that
no non-Jews were ever injured by being forced to wear a yellow star, you'd
abolish the yellow star.
If you keep the system but enact a
bureaucracy to help non-Jews avoid the injury of being forced to wear a yellow
star, you're not protecting them from harm: you are legitimising a system in
which their humanity can be abolished by a piece of yellow (or pink, or red) cloth.
Similarly with gender, if you protect gender as a system, but enact a
bureaucracy to help some people avoid the injury of being coerced into a
specific status, you are seeking to protect the hierarchy in which some
people's humanity can be abolished by perceived reproductive potential. And yet
the demand Butler reiterates in her NS piece is for ‘the freedom to be, or
become, a gender.’ The system, overall, remains unreformed - but a certain
amount of movement is permitted between categories. This is the epitome of
confusing movement with progress.
In other words, gender theory is
not a solution to the problems of coercive gender, but merely a loophole. A
loophole that allows some people to opt out of gendered expectations and
judgements at the price of people's humanity remaining held cheap. Because if
there is no greater majority – or at least some stable group of people – who live
the normative gender expectations to the full, including the physical and
psychic violence that makes them legitimately subject to, there can be no subversion
of a repressive norm such that ‘gendered life can be an expression of personal
or social freedom.’ There is no need for a bureaucracy that, in Butler’s terms,
would help avoid injury for the few people who feel they have been harmed
through mis-designation to the wrong gender category.
At issue as well is a question of autonomy, conceptualized not through individualism, but as an emergent social phenomenon: how do I name myself, how can I establish my status within the law or within medical institutions, and to what extent will my desire to live as a particular gender or within an established gender category be honoured by those who claim to ally with me but who position themselves against my desire to be named and recognized a certain way?
Now clearly, if you conceive of
yourself as an autonomous individual in a world of autonomous individuals,
there is no problem there: in theory everyone
could use the loophole described above. But once that move is made, one
forfeits the right to speak and think about ‘political freedom’, as Butler does.
Because politics exists only between connected, embedded people. There is no politics
of one. Conceptually, an ethic that depends on atomisation for its enactment
has no business claiming the mantle of ‘justice’, let alone ‘social’.
Pragmatically, the escape hatch of transition-for-some only embeds others more deeply
in a system of violent repression.
Butler’s conception appears to be that
oppression, at its root, is an injury to the self: the nature of oppression is
in that it limits the individual from expressing their authentic self. This is
in contrast to the traditional conception of oppression as a material framework
of deprivation or curtailment which limits people’s ability to live a maximally
flourishing life in material and economic terms such that they can, within that
enabling framework, choose to
actualise their self. It’s a kind of inverted Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, with
food, shelter and security taking a lower rung to self-actualisation and
fulfilment. In the example of Nazi Germany, the reason that the injustice, for
Butler, would properly reside in the non-Jewish person being made to wear the
yellow star is that they are being denied the freedom to ‘have their desire to
live as a particular race within a system of race’ is respected. The properly
Jewish person – in Butler’s conception, the person who ‘self identifies’ with
Jewishness without coercion – is left to their own devices: there is no place
in the self-actualisation framing to decry the fact that their material
wellbeing, their right to work and participate in civic life, is being
curtailed: the key moment of oppression is not in what a system does to you,
but what it calls you while so doing.
The current debate about the amount of
movement that should be allowed to individuals within a violently oppressive
system – gender – is a distraction from any consideration of reforming or even abolishing
that system. The ease and rapidity with which our institutions of power – epitomised
by the epigraph to this post, which is a quotation from this Supreme Court
judgement regarding a transgender woman’s right to contact with her Orthodox
Jewish children – have adapted to accommodate gender ideology should add a
pinch of salt to any claims about its revolutionary potential.
As linguist Deborah Cameron notes,
while we argue about who should and shouldn’t be called a woman, the assumption
that men are the default human beings is going entirely unchecked – and ‘a
gender revolution that does not challenge the default status of men is not a
feminist revolution.’ While Pope Francis calls for gender essentialism and Judith
Butler calls for ‘gender freedom’, feminists should, and do, call for complete liberation
from gender and its attendant coercive apparatus.