'We are far more united and have far more in common than that which divides us'
Jo Cox MP, 1974 - 2016
It has been seven months since my last blog, and this specific one I've been putting off all week in the interests of keeping things personable between myself and some of my comrades, because things have got quite heated and I partially agree with two completely conflicting perspectives. It has taken me quite a few days to get my own opinion coherent enough to write about.
Earlier this year, The Rebel Without A Clause took off significantly after I took part in a protest at a Bristol venue called the Jam Jar in defence of the Gender Recognition Act (if you don't know about this feel free to read my blog about this protest, as well as the exclusive interview with a trans rights activist that I conducted mainly to answer some of the questions I was receiving on social media). I don't know quite what it is about this subject that gets people so worked up. My readership is tiny (I'm lucky to get over 200) and yet for this brief period it reached into the thousands. I had a heck of a lot of contact, both on here and on Twitter, some of which was very supportive, some of which was quite abusive, but I did my best to take it all in stride and respond as politely as possible.
Just over a week ago, our protest was featured in a documentary on Channel 4 called Trans Kids: It's Time to Talk, which included a featured interview with me (I confess I have only seen the parts of the documentary that I'm in - I hear it's really not very good and contains a lot of erasure about trans and non-binary issues, but here is the On Demand link if anyone wants to watch it). I think that I myself came across quite well, but the protest generally was naturally edited to look a lot more violent than it actually was, which is of course to be expected if you're a left-wing activist. Shortly after this programme was broadcast, another featured activist, Esther Betts (whose identity was obscured at the time) has written an article in the Guardian identifying herself, openly regretting and apologising for her actions and suggesting that we use a different approach to achieve this goal. Having read the article, I think Esther makes several extremely compelling points. This article has provoked a very, very wide range of responses from both trans rights activists and from people opposed to what we do. I'll go into more detail about that later, but suffice to say that on both sides there are people applauding Esther, and people who utterly condemn the way she has handled this. There are activists feeling she has betrayed them, and TERFs (and I myself still use that word freely) feeling that this apology is not genuine and only an opportunistic attempt to capitalise on being portrayed in a negative light on national television.
As someone quite involved, I've been questioning myself as to how much I agree with what Esther writes. The first question to answer there is: do I myself regret my actions at that protest?
The short and simple answer, no.
Not even slightly.
There are two reasons for this. The first is that although other activists may have had a different agenda, my protest was not really aimed at the speakers (I really don't consider certain people such as Venice Allen, who was asked to leave a Labour Christmas party for transphobic behaviour towards the first transgender women's officer, to be worth my time or energy fighting) but at the venue. I felt providing a platform to Allen and others of that ilk was counter-intuitive to the Jam Jar's aim of supporting and promoting grassroots culture and creativity - which in my view is about allowing people to be themselves, free from the sort of persecution that certain invited speakers have been known to precipitate. I had myself witnessed one particular organiser, Matthew Strange (who I had known and got on well with prior to this), speaking in an extremely arrogant, dismissive and patronising way to concerned individuals, and to me. I think it is certainly possible to have a reasoned discussion about sex and gender, but this was not it as it was clearly intended to prioritise a certain intepretation, and Matthew himself did not seem willing to take on board other points of view.
The other reason is that I've been a left-wing activist since I was 17, on many different issues. Things can get very heated at protests, and if you attend as many as I have you develop your own moral code. There is a line that I don't cross - for example, there's a chant that commonly comes up at anti-austerity demos: 'Build a bonfire, build a bonfire, stick the Tories at the top; put Labour in the middle and we'll burn the fucking lot.' I choose not to take part in this particular chant, because I think threatening to burn people alive, even if it is tongue-in-cheek, does not put across the message that I want to put across. I'm quite a peaceful activist, but I am still an activist. I'm not cool with threats of violence, but when circumstances demand it I am cool with damage to property, civil disruption and breach of the peace. I've stood outside supermarkets that stock products sourced from warzones shouting into a megaphone, and I'd do it again - because a minor bit of disruption to someone's shopping is worth it if it means customers are educated about what to avoid, and supermarkets are incentivised to take a stand. But I don't think anyone has ever felt frightened for their personal safety because of me, and that is where I draw the line.
At the Jam Jar protest, I don't think I crossed my self-imposed line at all. For most of it, I stood outside with a banner, talking openly to people and explaining my reasoning, and my exact words if anyone asked if I was preventing people going in were, 'We respectfully ask you not to.' At a later point I was part of a large crowd that forced its way past security to attempt to gain access to and disrupt the event. Had I managed to gain access to the room, my protest would have been much the same as how I behaved outside. I should mention that Esther mentions in her article that there were plans to let off a smoke bomb; I need to make clear that I was not made aware of this at all, and would not have played any part in that. I wasn't watching Esther at every second of the demonstration; she may well have done something that broke her own moral code, and if so it's at her discretion to apologise for that. I do not feel that I did. I'm proud to be a Trans Rights Activist, and would do the same thing again if I thought it was important.
So I think it's clear that I firmly disagree with quite a lot of what Esther says in her article. I think there's an indication that confrontational protest achieves nothing, and I utterly refute that. The rights we have now did not come without a struggle, and nor will the ones we don't have come easily in the future. Having said that, I don't really have much of a moral issue with her having written it. This seems to be quite a problem for a lot of people - as I said at the start, Esther has faced signficant levels of criticism for this. Read any comment thread, and you'll see numerous accusations from TERFs claiming that Esther's apology is only damage limitation because she was caught out on TV, and is a thug crying crocodile tears to fool the gullible (these tend to be the ones who use the wrong pronouns for her). But it's not just from political opponents - a lot of the negative reaction has been from fellow trans rights activists, including some good friends of mine. I spent quite a long time talking to a friend and comrade of mine, who felt utterly let down by this; who had considered Esther a close friend, and now feels that she has sold out everyone who was at the Jam Jar and let down the cause. Although this is not my feeling, I can relate; if one thinks back to one's schooldays, I think everyone can remember how it felt when your best friend ditched you for the school bully. I don't actually think that was the intention, and I think that trying to find some common ground with your political opponents can be a constructive thing - but if those people have threatened you and try to find out where you live, then on a personal level an ally trying to get on with them is quite a bitter pill to swallow and feels quite backstabby.
So I see and sympathise with both sides, and as a cisgender man I'm probably not qualified to say who is right. However, what really annoys me about this is that they cannot see one another's side. And to me, that is the problem here. The left-wing activism community is really close-knit - most of us know each other, if not in person then by reputation, and the word 'comrade' is thrown around in a way that it isn't in any other field. There's good reason for this; we need each other. We need to discuss strategy and ideas, otherwise we're not a collective, we're just a bunch of individuals shouting at the world because no one is listening. And in a collective, not everyone will think exactly alike. It's hopelessly naive to think that everyone who believes in the same ideals as you will have the same methods as you - as above, I spoke about moral codes. Some activists are a bit more confrontational than I am, some are a bit less so. I respect them whatever, and talk to them openly to try to create a better world. Because even though I may disagree with them on certain things, they are still my comrades, and I'd rather they were with me than against me (or worse, discouraged and sitting at home with the XBox).
We live in a world that is utterly divided, on every level. Two and a half years ago, a week before a referendum that split this country down the middle, a wonderful Labour MP was murdered because of her ethics, kindness and empathy. I've shared a quote from her at the top, which was true when she said it and it's true now. The fallout from 2016 still hasn't abated, and my frustration about Brexit goes way beyond Leave vs Remain; it's not about what people believe, but about why they believe it. We should not have had a referendum that was split right down the middle, because ultimately our frustration is the same - we're all sick of the exploitation of this world, but instead of dealing with it we're fighting amongst ourselves about who has caused it. And it's for this reason that I cannot stand left-wing activists fighting amongst themselves. Guys, we're on the same side. Our methods might be different, but we want to achieve the same goals. There are enough people out there who hate us, and are forcing us to fight them - why are we wasting time fighting amongst ourselves instead of dealing with the problem?
My position, which probably disagrees with both people I've been talking to, is that protest is not the antithesis of dialogue. Protest is the moment when you take to the streets, to show the world how angry you are - and that's important. Dialogue is the moment after that, when you talk to whoever will listen to you and reach a conclusion that suits everyone - and that's important as well. It's not a binary, either/or, mutually exclusive choice. They work together, and if some people choose to prioritise one area more than another, we should support them and help them, even if our own skills are better somewhere else.
Dialogue + protest = activism.
Sunday, 2 December 2018
Monday, 28 May 2018
Politics within the Eurovision Song Contest
'First they ignore you, then they laugh at you, then they fight you, then you win'
A quote, commonly attributed to Mahatma Gandhi, though there is no evidence that he ever said it. Which doesn't alter its accuracy.
Despite its tackiness, corporatism and overly superficial songs, I must admit that like millions of other people around the world, I love Eurovision. I don't love it enough to follow the various stages, but for ten out of the last eleven years, I have made an event of watching it, more often than not with lots of fizzy pop and crunchy snacks that I wouldn't touch with a bargepole at any other time of year. There's just something about Eurovision, you know? I have always done my best to avoid getting involved in the politics of it - I always vote based on my opinions of the acts and nothing else. But this year, there have been two things that have caused me to acknowledge the political impact of Eurovision, and as one of them is really quite serious I will devote most of the blog to that.
I will start out though by talking about the stage invasion during the UK's entry. For anyone who didn't watch it, a man ran onstage during the UK's performance, snatched the singer's microphone and shouted: 'Nazis of the UK media, we demand freedom, war is not peace', before being restrained by security. The stage invader is known as Dr AC, and he is a rapper and political activist who has a history of storming stage performances. I was going to write a full blog on this, but recent events have meant that issues with Palestine and Israel have had to take precedence here, with this incident relegated to the opening paragraphs. As a left-wing activist and social commentator, I quite frequently have people making certain assumptions about me (only yesterday, I had someone I didn't even know ask me if I 'look for attention like the standard pansexual, feminist, non binary and all that other bullshit sort of people do'). Anyone who identifies as any of those things should of course be happy and proud to do so, but there are some (supposedly) left-wing activists who really do lower the tone of how we are perceived. This Dr AC is one of them. Anyone who interrupts an artistic performance, no matter how corporatist the event is that it is being performed at, really needs to take a good hard look at themselves. There are two reasons for this: the first is that it's very unfair on the artist, and the second is that it gives the right-wing media the excuse to diss you. Just as an example, the rapper Dr AC has been labelled in the press as a 'Corbyn supporter', which will no doubt stand in people's minds as another reason to doubt Jeremy Corbyn, even if though he had nothing to do with it. The thing that annoys me particularly about this is that I think it's completely reasonable to cast doubt on the state of the UK media (I frequently do myself) and the way that Dr AC approached this protest delegitimises any attempt to have that conversation.
Despite its tackiness, corporatism and overly superficial songs, I must admit that like millions of other people around the world, I love Eurovision. I don't love it enough to follow the various stages, but for ten out of the last eleven years, I have made an event of watching it, more often than not with lots of fizzy pop and crunchy snacks that I wouldn't touch with a bargepole at any other time of year. There's just something about Eurovision, you know? I have always done my best to avoid getting involved in the politics of it - I always vote based on my opinions of the acts and nothing else. But this year, there have been two things that have caused me to acknowledge the political impact of Eurovision, and as one of them is really quite serious I will devote most of the blog to that.
I will start out though by talking about the stage invasion during the UK's entry. For anyone who didn't watch it, a man ran onstage during the UK's performance, snatched the singer's microphone and shouted: 'Nazis of the UK media, we demand freedom, war is not peace', before being restrained by security. The stage invader is known as Dr AC, and he is a rapper and political activist who has a history of storming stage performances. I was going to write a full blog on this, but recent events have meant that issues with Palestine and Israel have had to take precedence here, with this incident relegated to the opening paragraphs. As a left-wing activist and social commentator, I quite frequently have people making certain assumptions about me (only yesterday, I had someone I didn't even know ask me if I 'look for attention like the standard pansexual, feminist, non binary and all that other bullshit sort of people do'). Anyone who identifies as any of those things should of course be happy and proud to do so, but there are some (supposedly) left-wing activists who really do lower the tone of how we are perceived. This Dr AC is one of them. Anyone who interrupts an artistic performance, no matter how corporatist the event is that it is being performed at, really needs to take a good hard look at themselves. There are two reasons for this: the first is that it's very unfair on the artist, and the second is that it gives the right-wing media the excuse to diss you. Just as an example, the rapper Dr AC has been labelled in the press as a 'Corbyn supporter', which will no doubt stand in people's minds as another reason to doubt Jeremy Corbyn, even if though he had nothing to do with it. The thing that annoys me particularly about this is that I think it's completely reasonable to cast doubt on the state of the UK media (I frequently do myself) and the way that Dr AC approached this protest delegitimises any attempt to have that conversation.
And now I come on to what I must devote the majority of this blog to, which is the political significance of Israel winning the Eurovision Song Contest and what that means within the region. The case of Israel's position within the world is something that is complex, and something that I differ sometimes even with my fellow Palestine campaigners on. There are some who say that Israel doesn't even have the right to be there, and I disagree on that because I'm a supporter of diversity wherever possible, people from all backgrounds and all walks of life living alongside one another, and I believe that in the region as well. What I don't agree with is that Jewish people have a God-given right to inhabit that region at the expense of all other groups of people. I am an anti-zionist. There are many who will conflate that with anti-Semitism, which means prejudice against Jews. They are by no means the same thing. Anti-zionism is a political opinion, one that many Jews share, and for myself at least, is something that I would extend to all circumstances and all groups of people. On planet Earth, I don't believe that any specific group of people have a monopoly over any specific piece of land, in the same way that I don't believe that humans have any more of a claim to this planet than any other life form.
I don't think many people (or at least, people in power) actually believe that anti-zionism and anti-Semitism are interchangeable. It's really more of an attempt to justify the unjustifiable by painting those who oppose it with the racist brush, which generally is quite a lazy way of arguing a point. It's the same mentality as those who complain that if you're against war, it means you must be against the armed forces, and if you're against the armed forces you're showing an unacceptable lack of respect for those who lay down their lives - quite obviously, this is not true, but by saying it like that you prevent anyone from questioning the agenda that you're setting forward, agendas which many powerful people from around the world have a vested interest in. Anti-Semitism aside, no one would reasonably accept the actions of Israel being committed by any other country. To put this in perspective, since the United Nations Human Rights Council was founded in 2006, it has resolved almost more resolutions comdemning Israel than the whole of the rest of the world combined. Think about that for a moment.
The occupation of Palestine started with the creation of Israel in the late 1940s, increased significantly in the wake of the six-day war of 1967, and has been increasing ever since. I'm sure most of my readers will have seen this map at some point in the past, but in case you haven't here it is:
It is worth bearing in mind that this particular incarnation of the map only goes up to 2005, because in the last thirteen years the divide has increased significantly. Palestine is being wiped out, and across the last week and a half, tensions in the region seem to have increased once more.
Last week, Donald Trump and his daughter Ivanka opened the new US embassy in Jerusalem, in what seems like a deliberate attempt to escalate tensions in the region. In recent years, US presidents have generally been less than exemplary when it comes to Israel, but this just takes the biscuit. Jerusalem is not recognised as the capital of Israel by any country other than the US, Russia and of course Israel itself. The western half has been occupied by Israel since 1948, the eastern half since 1967, and the United Nations Security Council Resolution 478 (passed in 1980) declares Israel's Jerusalem Law to be null and void. Palestinians living in Jerusalem are in legal limbo, not being considered citizens of Israel, Palestine or nearby Jordan. They are constantly at risk of having their residency revoked. In short, they are treated as foreign immigrants in a city that many of them were born in and have lived in all their lives.
Israel, on the other hand, does not even avoid apartheid when it comes to the Jewish people, much as it claims to be the Jewish state. Jews in Israel are not equal. They are divided into three groups - Ashkenazi, Sephardic and Mazrahi, and the Ashkenazi Jews (meaning those who arrived from Europe in the late 19th and early 20th century), whilst not necessarily having any specific advantages within law, are generally more accepted within Israeli culture and have greater access to things like education. The Al-Jazeera article I have linked above focusses in particular upon the distinctions between Ashkenazi and Mazrahi Jews, but I remember hearing a podcast called Bombs, Badgers and Bigotry back in September (the Israel bit starts at about 34.40) where Nancy Mendoza talked with Emily Apple, John Ranson and Tamara Micner about her own experiences of anti-Semitism, her opinions of Israel and her status as a Sephardic Jew, which would mean that she would be unable to claim all the benefits of living in Israel that are supposedly open to all Jews. I bring this up because it is important to note that Israel as an apartheid state does not even limit that apartheid to the people it claims it is limiting it to (as bad as that is in itself); even groups that Israel supposedly considers to be its own people are not treated equally within its borders. It is worth bearing this in mind, because I think it emphasises even more plainly that this whole discussion is not really about Jewish identity, as much as it is the fact that the powers that be in Israel make decisions that are harming (and ending) people's lives for political gain.
Aside from accusations of anti-Semitism, the other thing I hear constantly from Israel apologists is attempts to blame Hamas (which controls the Palestine Government) for Israel's actions, saying that they have provoked them and aren't being diplomatic enough at resolving things. I'm not sure how much truth there is in that, and in honesty I don't really care. I find Hamas a pretty irrelevant distraction actually, for a few reasons:
1) Hamas was formed in 1987, whereas this conflict has been going on in some shape or form since the Second World War, and has been ramped up on Israel's part since the mid-60s;
2) Given how outspoken I am about the Conservative Party, the idea that the people deserve what is coming to them because of the actions of their representatives is something that I cannot give any sympathy to;
3) The bottom line is that it is not Hamas actually holding the weapons that are killing Palestinians.
It is truthfully quite astonishing to see how far people will go to absolve Israeli forces. Over the last few weeks, I have seen the condemnation of Palestinians go beyond Hamas to the Palestinians themselves. When children are being arrested and even killed by Israeli soldiers, I have actually come across people in all seriousness suggesting that it is the fault of the child's parents for living near the Gaza strip. Obviously no one would volunteer to live in a place where they and their kids' lives were under threat, but surely the more important question is, where have we come to in the world where we hold a child's parents more responsible for threats to that child's life than whoever is actually causing the threat? When children were put in the gas chambers in the concentration camps in the 1940s, was it the fault of the Nazis, or of the kids' parents for not hiding effectively enough?
Clearly, the whole thing is a double standard. In the minds of a lot of people, it matters less exactly what is being done, and more who is doing it, and that extends beyond just Israel and Palestine, it is a phenomenon that occurs with virtually every issue in the world. I could probably talk about the root causes of this for hours, but in the interests of not extending this blog even longer, I shall move on. Donald Trump's decision to open the US embassy in Jerusalem was clearly not an attempt to achieve peace, as achieving peace generally tends to be done by working alongside the international community, and as stated above, there are only three countries in the world that officially recognise Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, and that includes Israel itself. One does not achieve peace by opening up old wounds or by resorting to inflammatory comments on Twitter. One achieves it by making a concerted effort to work out a solution that results in freedom for everyone. That is not what Israel is trying to do, and it is not what those sucking up to Israel are doing either.
I want to finish off by returning to the title of this blog, which is the impact the Eurovision Song Contest has on political allegiances with its position on the world stage. Israel won the Eurovision Song Contest (incidentally, with a performance that irrespective of my political views on Israel, I thought was appalling) and will therefore be hosting next year's contest. I will stay true to my views that fans of the contest should vote purely on which act is the best, irrespective of their political values. And if a country with a history of very serious human rights abuses happens to win, by convention they still have the right to host the following year's contest. (It's questionable whether they should have been allowed to take part at all of course, but that ship has sailed.) What I do find is that Israel's current position within the contest gives anti-zionist activists a really good opportunity to further the campaign. There are already numerous companies I refuse to buy from because of their involvement with Israel, (the Boycot, Divestment and Sanctions movement has an awful lot of information and I encourage anyone who hasn't already to look into it). Most importantly, this campaign is having an effect. In America, there has been talk about making it illegal to boycott Israel, which when one thinks about it is ridiculous and impossible to enforce - everyone has a right to choose which brands they buy. But this sort of reaction from those in power would not be happening were it not having an effect. And with next year's Eurovision, there is an opportunity for the BDS movement to increase its boycotting even further.
There is a year to make this happen. On a political level, a celebration of Israel is not what needs to happen next year, and boycotting Eurovision would send a very powerful message that if you want to take part in what should be a fabulous celebration of art and music, you will only be accepted if you stop committing war crimes. I highly doubt halting next year's contest is feasible, or even desirable. But what we can do is make it clear how controversial this is, take advantage to show the world exactly what the nation hosting their favourite music contest is guilty of (if we could get even one country to refuse to participate, that would really be the icing on the cake) and that would undoubtedly improve things. Israel only gets away with what it does because the rest of the world lets it, and as I have demonstrated will go to any length to excuse its actions.
And I will just concluse by reiterating what I said at the start - quite apart from my opinions on Israel, the reason I feel so strongly about this is that despite its flaws I love Eurovision, I watch it every year and I think it would be amazing if it stood up in the international community and said, 'This is wrong'. So often, the songs (though they avoid specific political references) have themes based around love and peace - time to give that some meaning, yes? So I shall leave you with the song Love Shine A Light by Katrina and the Waves, the last UK winners, which I think embodies everything.
Peace!
I don't think many people (or at least, people in power) actually believe that anti-zionism and anti-Semitism are interchangeable. It's really more of an attempt to justify the unjustifiable by painting those who oppose it with the racist brush, which generally is quite a lazy way of arguing a point. It's the same mentality as those who complain that if you're against war, it means you must be against the armed forces, and if you're against the armed forces you're showing an unacceptable lack of respect for those who lay down their lives - quite obviously, this is not true, but by saying it like that you prevent anyone from questioning the agenda that you're setting forward, agendas which many powerful people from around the world have a vested interest in. Anti-Semitism aside, no one would reasonably accept the actions of Israel being committed by any other country. To put this in perspective, since the United Nations Human Rights Council was founded in 2006, it has resolved almost more resolutions comdemning Israel than the whole of the rest of the world combined. Think about that for a moment.
The occupation of Palestine started with the creation of Israel in the late 1940s, increased significantly in the wake of the six-day war of 1967, and has been increasing ever since. I'm sure most of my readers will have seen this map at some point in the past, but in case you haven't here it is:
It is worth bearing in mind that this particular incarnation of the map only goes up to 2005, because in the last thirteen years the divide has increased significantly. Palestine is being wiped out, and across the last week and a half, tensions in the region seem to have increased once more.
Last week, Donald Trump and his daughter Ivanka opened the new US embassy in Jerusalem, in what seems like a deliberate attempt to escalate tensions in the region. In recent years, US presidents have generally been less than exemplary when it comes to Israel, but this just takes the biscuit. Jerusalem is not recognised as the capital of Israel by any country other than the US, Russia and of course Israel itself. The western half has been occupied by Israel since 1948, the eastern half since 1967, and the United Nations Security Council Resolution 478 (passed in 1980) declares Israel's Jerusalem Law to be null and void. Palestinians living in Jerusalem are in legal limbo, not being considered citizens of Israel, Palestine or nearby Jordan. They are constantly at risk of having their residency revoked. In short, they are treated as foreign immigrants in a city that many of them were born in and have lived in all their lives.
Israel, on the other hand, does not even avoid apartheid when it comes to the Jewish people, much as it claims to be the Jewish state. Jews in Israel are not equal. They are divided into three groups - Ashkenazi, Sephardic and Mazrahi, and the Ashkenazi Jews (meaning those who arrived from Europe in the late 19th and early 20th century), whilst not necessarily having any specific advantages within law, are generally more accepted within Israeli culture and have greater access to things like education. The Al-Jazeera article I have linked above focusses in particular upon the distinctions between Ashkenazi and Mazrahi Jews, but I remember hearing a podcast called Bombs, Badgers and Bigotry back in September (the Israel bit starts at about 34.40) where Nancy Mendoza talked with Emily Apple, John Ranson and Tamara Micner about her own experiences of anti-Semitism, her opinions of Israel and her status as a Sephardic Jew, which would mean that she would be unable to claim all the benefits of living in Israel that are supposedly open to all Jews. I bring this up because it is important to note that Israel as an apartheid state does not even limit that apartheid to the people it claims it is limiting it to (as bad as that is in itself); even groups that Israel supposedly considers to be its own people are not treated equally within its borders. It is worth bearing this in mind, because I think it emphasises even more plainly that this whole discussion is not really about Jewish identity, as much as it is the fact that the powers that be in Israel make decisions that are harming (and ending) people's lives for political gain.
Aside from accusations of anti-Semitism, the other thing I hear constantly from Israel apologists is attempts to blame Hamas (which controls the Palestine Government) for Israel's actions, saying that they have provoked them and aren't being diplomatic enough at resolving things. I'm not sure how much truth there is in that, and in honesty I don't really care. I find Hamas a pretty irrelevant distraction actually, for a few reasons:
1) Hamas was formed in 1987, whereas this conflict has been going on in some shape or form since the Second World War, and has been ramped up on Israel's part since the mid-60s;
2) Given how outspoken I am about the Conservative Party, the idea that the people deserve what is coming to them because of the actions of their representatives is something that I cannot give any sympathy to;
3) The bottom line is that it is not Hamas actually holding the weapons that are killing Palestinians.
It is truthfully quite astonishing to see how far people will go to absolve Israeli forces. Over the last few weeks, I have seen the condemnation of Palestinians go beyond Hamas to the Palestinians themselves. When children are being arrested and even killed by Israeli soldiers, I have actually come across people in all seriousness suggesting that it is the fault of the child's parents for living near the Gaza strip. Obviously no one would volunteer to live in a place where they and their kids' lives were under threat, but surely the more important question is, where have we come to in the world where we hold a child's parents more responsible for threats to that child's life than whoever is actually causing the threat? When children were put in the gas chambers in the concentration camps in the 1940s, was it the fault of the Nazis, or of the kids' parents for not hiding effectively enough?
Clearly, the whole thing is a double standard. In the minds of a lot of people, it matters less exactly what is being done, and more who is doing it, and that extends beyond just Israel and Palestine, it is a phenomenon that occurs with virtually every issue in the world. I could probably talk about the root causes of this for hours, but in the interests of not extending this blog even longer, I shall move on. Donald Trump's decision to open the US embassy in Jerusalem was clearly not an attempt to achieve peace, as achieving peace generally tends to be done by working alongside the international community, and as stated above, there are only three countries in the world that officially recognise Jerusalem as the capital of Israel, and that includes Israel itself. One does not achieve peace by opening up old wounds or by resorting to inflammatory comments on Twitter. One achieves it by making a concerted effort to work out a solution that results in freedom for everyone. That is not what Israel is trying to do, and it is not what those sucking up to Israel are doing either.
I want to finish off by returning to the title of this blog, which is the impact the Eurovision Song Contest has on political allegiances with its position on the world stage. Israel won the Eurovision Song Contest (incidentally, with a performance that irrespective of my political views on Israel, I thought was appalling) and will therefore be hosting next year's contest. I will stay true to my views that fans of the contest should vote purely on which act is the best, irrespective of their political values. And if a country with a history of very serious human rights abuses happens to win, by convention they still have the right to host the following year's contest. (It's questionable whether they should have been allowed to take part at all of course, but that ship has sailed.) What I do find is that Israel's current position within the contest gives anti-zionist activists a really good opportunity to further the campaign. There are already numerous companies I refuse to buy from because of their involvement with Israel, (the Boycot, Divestment and Sanctions movement has an awful lot of information and I encourage anyone who hasn't already to look into it). Most importantly, this campaign is having an effect. In America, there has been talk about making it illegal to boycott Israel, which when one thinks about it is ridiculous and impossible to enforce - everyone has a right to choose which brands they buy. But this sort of reaction from those in power would not be happening were it not having an effect. And with next year's Eurovision, there is an opportunity for the BDS movement to increase its boycotting even further.
There is a year to make this happen. On a political level, a celebration of Israel is not what needs to happen next year, and boycotting Eurovision would send a very powerful message that if you want to take part in what should be a fabulous celebration of art and music, you will only be accepted if you stop committing war crimes. I highly doubt halting next year's contest is feasible, or even desirable. But what we can do is make it clear how controversial this is, take advantage to show the world exactly what the nation hosting their favourite music contest is guilty of (if we could get even one country to refuse to participate, that would really be the icing on the cake) and that would undoubtedly improve things. Israel only gets away with what it does because the rest of the world lets it, and as I have demonstrated will go to any length to excuse its actions.
And I will just concluse by reiterating what I said at the start - quite apart from my opinions on Israel, the reason I feel so strongly about this is that despite its flaws I love Eurovision, I watch it every year and I think it would be amazing if it stood up in the international community and said, 'This is wrong'. So often, the songs (though they avoid specific political references) have themes based around love and peace - time to give that some meaning, yes? So I shall leave you with the song Love Shine A Light by Katrina and the Waves, the last UK winners, which I think embodies everything.
Peace!
Wednesday, 25 April 2018
An exclusive interview with a trans rights activist
Wow! I have to say, I was not prepared for my blog about the protest at the Jam Jar to take off quite as much as it did. I've been getting a lot of responses on Twitter, and have responded to as many as I can. I think a lot of the time, being male and cisgender, I haven't really been the right person to answer their questions, much as I have done my best.
So, in a first for The Rebel Without A Clause, I have an exclusive interview! My interviewee wished to remain anonymous, but she's a young woman living in the UK, who very kindly agreed to sit down with me and have a frank discussion about the Gender Recognition Act, the importance of transgender women being able to access safe spaces and whether or not free speech can have any limits on it. Some of the questions are my own, but I did my best to pass on anything I've been asked by people on forums and on Twitter as well. I really hope everyone likes the interview. (My lines are in normal font, hers are in italics.)
Hi, thank you so much for giving this interview to The Rebel Without A Clause!
It's no trouble, really! Happy to talk.
I'm going to start with a question that I think is fairly general, but it seems to be very divisive for a lot of women (and men, but women's opinions are more relevant): what does it mean to be female?
This is an interesting question, with no concrete answer as of yet. I personally do not use the term, because it tends to confuse gender expression with what genitals someone has, and neither of those really fall anywhere on a binary. Because it conflates womanhood with, say, having a vagina, I do not use it, and I know a lot of other transgender people avoid it, too. It's also a very reductive way to talk about cisgender women - because it implies that her genitals are a defining part of her as a person.
Interesting - so is there a term you use instead?
To refer to a woman? I use "woman".
Was there a specific point you came to realise you're a woman?
I think the realisation came, for me, when I started taking HRT medication (acquired via the internet). I found that it made me feel much more at peace with my body and mind. It's a very difficult feeling to describe. I found that, with both HRT medication, and presenting myself to the world as a woman, I was much more confident about myself. I started to like myself. This happened around 5 years ago, now.
Just to be clear to anyone who doesn't know, what is HRT medication?
Hormone Replacement Therapy. This type of medication is given to people, both trans and cis, who have some sort of problem with their body's own hormone production. For trans women, it involves blocking testosterone production, and introducing oestrogen.
I think that realisation is something that a lot of people go through actually. I mean I've had it, and I'm cisgender. I can tell you the precise date I realised that I'm a man. I guess for a cisgender person, it's more of an age thing than a gender thing, but it's probably something similar.
Possibly! I can't really say for cisgender people, because the only time I really felt like I knew who I was, was when I took HRT. For me, puberty was not pleasant.
Can you tell me a bit more about that?
The introduction of male hormones made me feel anxious and stressed, and as my body changed, I started to hate it more and more. I think it's important to stress that I didn't really know why. Some trans people know early on. Some don't. I think that's one of the reasons why we need education on this.
Is education improving at all?
Not specifically, from what I can tell. I think there is a bit more awareness in society in general, which kids might pick up on, but as far as I know things are still pretty limited. And even if they did gain an understanding of who they are, what can they do about it? The press shrieks at the very idea of transgender kids.
I did come across a book in Waterstones recently called The Art of Being Normal, which deals with two transgender teenagers, one boy and one girl, one of whom is already in the process of transitioning and the other being in the early stages of realising it about themselves. It has received a lot of praise, there isn't much young adult fiction on the subject.
Yeah it is very scarce, although even then, I think there is more out there since I started transition. I hope more is coming, in spite of the opposition.
I really hope so as well. Moving on, how much abuse do you receive?
In person, I've had a few incidents. Mostly shouting from drunks, or not-very-subtle snide comments. One of them from a UK Border Agency guy who was checking my passport. I have yet to be the subject of physical violence, although the idea is always in my mind.
Do you think social media makes it easier to bully people?
Oh definitely. You can abuse people via social media and face very few, if any, consequences. Not just bullying, but also harassment. You can simply make a throwaway account and, for example, post doxxed information with it. Maybe it'll get shut down for abuse. Maybe it won't. Either way, nothing much in the way of consequence. Certainly legal recourse is almost impossible.
This 'freedom of speech' thing... I want to talk about that. Because there's a strong argument that to support freedom of speech, you can't have a limit on that, otherwise it's not freedom of speech anymore. I remember hearing Germaine Greer saying once, 'Whether it hurts people, or offends people, speech must be free.' She wasn't talking about transgenderism, she meant more generally, and at the time I heard it I 100% agreed with her. And of course, Greer is another one of those people whose comments have caused issues to the trans community. What are your thoughts on this notion, as a general principle?
First of all, I want to make it clear: Freedom of speech, as a concept, only applies to the government restricting your rights. Most of what is called an "assault on free speech" these days is people getting a backlash for what they're saying, not the government stepping in and clamping down.
So, in a first for The Rebel Without A Clause, I have an exclusive interview! My interviewee wished to remain anonymous, but she's a young woman living in the UK, who very kindly agreed to sit down with me and have a frank discussion about the Gender Recognition Act, the importance of transgender women being able to access safe spaces and whether or not free speech can have any limits on it. Some of the questions are my own, but I did my best to pass on anything I've been asked by people on forums and on Twitter as well. I really hope everyone likes the interview. (My lines are in normal font, hers are in italics.)
Hi, thank you so much for giving this interview to The Rebel Without A Clause!
It's no trouble, really! Happy to talk.
I'm going to start with a question that I think is fairly general, but it seems to be very divisive for a lot of women (and men, but women's opinions are more relevant): what does it mean to be female?
This is an interesting question, with no concrete answer as of yet. I personally do not use the term, because it tends to confuse gender expression with what genitals someone has, and neither of those really fall anywhere on a binary. Because it conflates womanhood with, say, having a vagina, I do not use it, and I know a lot of other transgender people avoid it, too. It's also a very reductive way to talk about cisgender women - because it implies that her genitals are a defining part of her as a person.
Interesting - so is there a term you use instead?
To refer to a woman? I use "woman".
Was there a specific point you came to realise you're a woman?
I think the realisation came, for me, when I started taking HRT medication (acquired via the internet). I found that it made me feel much more at peace with my body and mind. It's a very difficult feeling to describe. I found that, with both HRT medication, and presenting myself to the world as a woman, I was much more confident about myself. I started to like myself. This happened around 5 years ago, now.
Just to be clear to anyone who doesn't know, what is HRT medication?
Hormone Replacement Therapy. This type of medication is given to people, both trans and cis, who have some sort of problem with their body's own hormone production. For trans women, it involves blocking testosterone production, and introducing oestrogen.
I think that realisation is something that a lot of people go through actually. I mean I've had it, and I'm cisgender. I can tell you the precise date I realised that I'm a man. I guess for a cisgender person, it's more of an age thing than a gender thing, but it's probably something similar.
Possibly! I can't really say for cisgender people, because the only time I really felt like I knew who I was, was when I took HRT. For me, puberty was not pleasant.
Can you tell me a bit more about that?
The introduction of male hormones made me feel anxious and stressed, and as my body changed, I started to hate it more and more. I think it's important to stress that I didn't really know why. Some trans people know early on. Some don't. I think that's one of the reasons why we need education on this.
Is education improving at all?
Not specifically, from what I can tell. I think there is a bit more awareness in society in general, which kids might pick up on, but as far as I know things are still pretty limited. And even if they did gain an understanding of who they are, what can they do about it? The press shrieks at the very idea of transgender kids.
I did come across a book in Waterstones recently called The Art of Being Normal, which deals with two transgender teenagers, one boy and one girl, one of whom is already in the process of transitioning and the other being in the early stages of realising it about themselves. It has received a lot of praise, there isn't much young adult fiction on the subject.
Yeah it is very scarce, although even then, I think there is more out there since I started transition. I hope more is coming, in spite of the opposition.
I really hope so as well. Moving on, how much abuse do you receive?
In person, I've had a few incidents. Mostly shouting from drunks, or not-very-subtle snide comments. One of them from a UK Border Agency guy who was checking my passport. I have yet to be the subject of physical violence, although the idea is always in my mind.
A lot of places on the internet are a nightmare if you're an out trans woman, where transphobia is often taken as "freedom of speech". Facebook's moderators, for example, seem to have no concept of transphobia. The mainstream gaming community are particularly toxic.
Of course, this is only the abuse that is individual, not systemic.
Do you think social media makes it easier to bully people?
Oh definitely. You can abuse people via social media and face very few, if any, consequences. Not just bullying, but also harassment. You can simply make a throwaway account and, for example, post doxxed information with it. Maybe it'll get shut down for abuse. Maybe it won't. Either way, nothing much in the way of consequence. Certainly legal recourse is almost impossible.
This 'freedom of speech' thing... I want to talk about that. Because there's a strong argument that to support freedom of speech, you can't have a limit on that, otherwise it's not freedom of speech anymore. I remember hearing Germaine Greer saying once, 'Whether it hurts people, or offends people, speech must be free.' She wasn't talking about transgenderism, she meant more generally, and at the time I heard it I 100% agreed with her. And of course, Greer is another one of those people whose comments have caused issues to the trans community. What are your thoughts on this notion, as a general principle?
First of all, I want to make it clear: Freedom of speech, as a concept, only applies to the government restricting your rights. Most of what is called an "assault on free speech" these days is people getting a backlash for what they're saying, not the government stepping in and clamping down.
This is an important distinction.
Freedom of speech is, indeed, useful for political freedom and academic freedom, because it lets you say things that are unpopular. It is effectively there to protect you from powerful institutions, like the government, religion and capitalism.
But while you might have the freedom to say something, I also have the freedom to criticise - and I do not have to be polite. I can protest what you're saying.
I also do not have to give you a platform to say it. No one is entitled to an audience, you are only entitled to speak.
And even then, we as a society agree on limits to free speech. Indeed, even the often cited champions of this concept, the American founding fathers, imposed limits on free speech. The common example of "crying fire in a crowded theatre" is a good idea of where these limits come in.
Free speech in the true sense, is only for ideas that are unpopular, but not harmful to people's safety. This is why we have hate speech laws, and why leftist spaces forbid things like racism and transphobia.
You can criticise the government and other institutions as much as you want. But if you say something that can incite violence against or repress marginalised people? No. If you think about it, that sort of thing serves no potential positive benefit for society, at all. It does not promote discussion, it only seeks to suppress people who already have less of a voice.
Yeah, I completely get you. I always say that no one has rights without responsibility. The right to be able to say what you like comes with the responsibility not to abuse that right, otherwise consequences will occur - not exactly threat of your right to free speech taken away, but more people not wanting to listen to you, people calling you out and the result potentially being harm to your reputation. Is that fair?
Yeah. People with opinions on the marginalised are often quick to demand the right to say what they're saying, and rarely want the responsibility for saying it. To demand to be able to do something without responsibility is, in my view, childish.
Now with regards to the most recent debates about the protest around the Jam Jar, is there anything that you think the TERFs may have a point about?
I think their question of the safety of women in certain spaces highlights a general lax attitude towards abusers, that I think should be corrected in a way that does not involve shutting out entire classes of women.
One thing I said in my previous blog was: 'We did contribute to the discussion. We contributed by showing everyone exactly what we think of the way that this talk was framed.' And someone on Twitter came back at me by saying, 'There isn't a way of framing it you'd be happy with except not talking about it at all!' What would you say to that person?
As I said, a couple of the fears that people have about self identification are really just fears about bad filtering and protection against abusers - of all genders.
Yeah, I completely get you. I always say that no one has rights without responsibility. The right to be able to say what you like comes with the responsibility not to abuse that right, otherwise consequences will occur - not exactly threat of your right to free speech taken away, but more people not wanting to listen to you, people calling you out and the result potentially being harm to your reputation. Is that fair?
Yeah. People with opinions on the marginalised are often quick to demand the right to say what they're saying, and rarely want the responsibility for saying it. To demand to be able to do something without responsibility is, in my view, childish.
Now with regards to the most recent debates about the protest around the Jam Jar, is there anything that you think the TERFs may have a point about?
I think their question of the safety of women in certain spaces highlights a general lax attitude towards abusers, that I think should be corrected in a way that does not involve shutting out entire classes of women.
One thing I said in my previous blog was: 'We did contribute to the discussion. We contributed by showing everyone exactly what we think of the way that this talk was framed.' And someone on Twitter came back at me by saying, 'There isn't a way of framing it you'd be happy with except not talking about it at all!' What would you say to that person?
As I said, a couple of the fears that people have about self identification are really just fears about bad filtering and protection against abusers - of all genders.
However, the talk itself and the politics of the people involved was inseparable from the assumption that transgender women are, in fact, men. And, no, that's not only scientifically incorrect, it's flat out bigotry. You can't re-frame that sort of conversation in a way that makes it respectful to trans people, because then the conversation wouldn't really be about trans people any more - we'd be talking about how to make spaces safer in general.
I think pretty much every bigot in history has had some genuine injustice behind their bigotry. It's like the UKIP voter who complains about 'immigrants stealing our jobs'... they're right to be angry with the exploitative nature of the capitalist system, they're just blaming the wrong person. The response I gave to the person who said that was to say that I don't think anyone would object if the discussion about been framed as 'How can we do more to protect women?' without any distinction between transwomen or any other women. That sort of talk would take into account any legitimate concerns without misgendering people.
Yeah it makes more sense to focus it on women's safety. Which it ostensibly was about, but obviously was not, because they don't include transgender women's safety in the discussion.
I think that's quite a problem with quite a lot of interpretations of feminism actually, and it goes beyond transwomen into all sorts of underprivileged women. Our BFF Julie Bindel, for instance, is a staunch opponent of decriminalising sex work, and I can't understand how any feminist can hold that opinion because it harms women. It means they're less empowered to report abuse by employers and lots of other things. I'm not the biggest fan of the sort of feminism that focusses primarily on the gender pay gap and female representation in boardrooms, because (although I accept that those are important issues) the women it benefits will mostly be the ones who already have professional qualifications, therefore more privileged than your average girl on the street.
It's the sort of feminism that's acceptable and, therefore, does not challenge society. Getting more privilege for those relatively privileged to begin with (at least, compared to a lot of women) is easier than lifting up those at the bottom. In my opinion, it is a lazy form of feminism, that demands that white cisgender middle class women only need to think about the problems of white cisgender middle class women.
I think pretty much every bigot in history has had some genuine injustice behind their bigotry. It's like the UKIP voter who complains about 'immigrants stealing our jobs'... they're right to be angry with the exploitative nature of the capitalist system, they're just blaming the wrong person. The response I gave to the person who said that was to say that I don't think anyone would object if the discussion about been framed as 'How can we do more to protect women?' without any distinction between transwomen or any other women. That sort of talk would take into account any legitimate concerns without misgendering people.
Yeah it makes more sense to focus it on women's safety. Which it ostensibly was about, but obviously was not, because they don't include transgender women's safety in the discussion.
I think that's quite a problem with quite a lot of interpretations of feminism actually, and it goes beyond transwomen into all sorts of underprivileged women. Our BFF Julie Bindel, for instance, is a staunch opponent of decriminalising sex work, and I can't understand how any feminist can hold that opinion because it harms women. It means they're less empowered to report abuse by employers and lots of other things. I'm not the biggest fan of the sort of feminism that focusses primarily on the gender pay gap and female representation in boardrooms, because (although I accept that those are important issues) the women it benefits will mostly be the ones who already have professional qualifications, therefore more privileged than your average girl on the street.
It's the sort of feminism that's acceptable and, therefore, does not challenge society. Getting more privilege for those relatively privileged to begin with (at least, compared to a lot of women) is easier than lifting up those at the bottom. In my opinion, it is a lazy form of feminism, that demands that white cisgender middle class women only need to think about the problems of white cisgender middle class women.
The issue surrounding sex work is something that is very dear to my heart, as well. Not just with what's going on in the States right now, but also my own history.
Understandable. Are there any situations in which you think it's fair for cisgender women and transgender women to be treated differently? For example, a couple of people online have asked me what I think about sex divisions in sports if they're segregated because of issues with weight - and I refuse to answer that one, because it's too specific an issue for me to have an informed opinion on.
So, currently the issue with sports, is that organising bodies can discriminate, but must provide a reason for doing so, and they must demonstrate that exclusion was the only way to make the even fair. Personally, I think sports should desegregate and look at other ways of pairing athletes up. Separating based on gender is completely arbitrary, but we do still need ways of getting fair competition.
Understandable. Are there any situations in which you think it's fair for cisgender women and transgender women to be treated differently? For example, a couple of people online have asked me what I think about sex divisions in sports if they're segregated because of issues with weight - and I refuse to answer that one, because it's too specific an issue for me to have an informed opinion on.
So, currently the issue with sports, is that organising bodies can discriminate, but must provide a reason for doing so, and they must demonstrate that exclusion was the only way to make the even fair. Personally, I think sports should desegregate and look at other ways of pairing athletes up. Separating based on gender is completely arbitrary, but we do still need ways of getting fair competition.
Other than that, the only one that comes to mind is in terms of healthcare. It makes little sense for a cisgender woman to, say, visit the gender clinic at Charing Cross, right? And services specifically for trans health and advocacy. It just doesn't make sense for cis people to need those things, why would they? For other health related issues, pregnancy already crosses gender lines, with trans men giving birth, and with the prospect of wombs grown from stem cells, transwomen will be able to as well. A lot of health stuff already makes sense for both cis and trans people, or soon will.
Apart from that, I can't really think of anything off the top of my head. Things that are currently gendered can either be left as is, or altered in ways which, I think, makes it better for everyone.
There was something I meant to ask you earlier, but we moved on, and I want to go back to it because I think it's one of the most important things. You said that the event at the Jam Jar wasn't really about women's safety because the safety of transwomen wasn't considered. How much does it harm transwomen's safety to not be allowed into women's spaces?
It harms us a lot. It means we have very limited, or not access, to spaces for women who are abused. If a transgender woman is in an abusive relationship, where do they go? This sort of thing can be lethal.
There was something I meant to ask you earlier, but we moved on, and I want to go back to it because I think it's one of the most important things. You said that the event at the Jam Jar wasn't really about women's safety because the safety of transwomen wasn't considered. How much does it harm transwomen's safety to not be allowed into women's spaces?
It harms us a lot. It means we have very limited, or not access, to spaces for women who are abused. If a transgender woman is in an abusive relationship, where do they go? This sort of thing can be lethal.
Another one is trans women not being able to use, say, women's changing rooms in shops (there was a whole "protest" about this from TERFs). Does this mean we have to use the men's facilities? Do you think any trans woman is going to feel safe getting undressed, knowing how prevalent transphobic abuse is in our society?
And something as simple as a toilet. How many women would be happy being in a men's toilet? Again, both misogynistic and transphobic violence is always a very real problem in this case.
I think it's fair to say it harms cisgender women as well, isn't it? I have noticed the TERF crowd go very silent when anyone asks how they intend to distinguish the two.
Oh yes, definitely. It's already affecting cisgender women, in fact. There have been a few cases of more "butch" presenting women being misgendered and thrown out of toilets and other spaces. That is obviously very frightening and humiliating to them, as it is to us. If more restrictions are put in place, this will only get worse.
How important is it to have cisgender allies on campaigns like these?
It's vital. Transgender people are a very small minority. In Britain we make up 0.5-1% of the population. We simply do not have the numbers to make much change on our own. Additionally, transgender people are often economically marginalised, which means we are often poor, and not positions of power. In spite of the bizarre claims of the existence of a "trans cabal" by transphobes, we ourselves wield very little power. To maintain our rights in society, we need the help of cisgender people who actually care about us.
Is there any difference between having male cisgender allies and female ones?
Honestly, I don't think so, but I think a nice mixture of both is good. Transphobia comes from both men and women, and often people who hold low opinions of us are more likely to listen to someone they can relate to.
I mean, I've been thinking that if I were a woman I might be able to do a better job backing this campaign. I've had so many responses to my last blog - to put it in perspective, the spike in views has gone from about 50 on a good day to thousands. I'm also receiving a lot of comments, and I try to reply to as many of them as I can. But a lot of them are on the lines of, 'Bloody man, what the hell does he know?' And I can't really blame them for that... some of our female allies might be able to frame it in a way that a man can't.
That's true. We could probably use more cisgender women as vocal allies, especially when it comes to countering online abuse. Also the tactic of using your gender to ignore your criticism is a typical shutting down technique. It's also hypocritical seeing as the TERFs are talking about trans women as if we were men. If the subject, to them, involves men, and they want a "rational" discussion, shouldn't they listen to you too…?
That's a good point! Thanks for that. Given all the points about abusers, and the fact that you can't tell who is going to be an abuser until they've hurt someone, how rational is the worry about abusers potentially invading safe spaces? And if it is rational, what's the solution?
In general terms? If we're talking about women's refuges or spaces that otherwise help women with abuse, we already know the abusers.
I think it's fair to say it harms cisgender women as well, isn't it? I have noticed the TERF crowd go very silent when anyone asks how they intend to distinguish the two.
Oh yes, definitely. It's already affecting cisgender women, in fact. There have been a few cases of more "butch" presenting women being misgendered and thrown out of toilets and other spaces. That is obviously very frightening and humiliating to them, as it is to us. If more restrictions are put in place, this will only get worse.
How important is it to have cisgender allies on campaigns like these?
It's vital. Transgender people are a very small minority. In Britain we make up 0.5-1% of the population. We simply do not have the numbers to make much change on our own. Additionally, transgender people are often economically marginalised, which means we are often poor, and not positions of power. In spite of the bizarre claims of the existence of a "trans cabal" by transphobes, we ourselves wield very little power. To maintain our rights in society, we need the help of cisgender people who actually care about us.
Is there any difference between having male cisgender allies and female ones?
Honestly, I don't think so, but I think a nice mixture of both is good. Transphobia comes from both men and women, and often people who hold low opinions of us are more likely to listen to someone they can relate to.
I mean, I've been thinking that if I were a woman I might be able to do a better job backing this campaign. I've had so many responses to my last blog - to put it in perspective, the spike in views has gone from about 50 on a good day to thousands. I'm also receiving a lot of comments, and I try to reply to as many of them as I can. But a lot of them are on the lines of, 'Bloody man, what the hell does he know?' And I can't really blame them for that... some of our female allies might be able to frame it in a way that a man can't.
That's true. We could probably use more cisgender women as vocal allies, especially when it comes to countering online abuse. Also the tactic of using your gender to ignore your criticism is a typical shutting down technique. It's also hypocritical seeing as the TERFs are talking about trans women as if we were men. If the subject, to them, involves men, and they want a "rational" discussion, shouldn't they listen to you too…?
That's a good point! Thanks for that. Given all the points about abusers, and the fact that you can't tell who is going to be an abuser until they've hurt someone, how rational is the worry about abusers potentially invading safe spaces? And if it is rational, what's the solution?
In general terms? If we're talking about women's refuges or spaces that otherwise help women with abuse, we already know the abusers.
In terms of other spaces, I don't see that the fear is really all that rational, seeing as we already, in effect, have self ID for trans people. At no point on entering a toilet are you required to produce identification. The purpose of the recent push for changes to the law was to make self identification explicit and to ease our access to healthcare.
Ireland, in fact, already has a full legal implementation of self ID. I didn't hear any TERFs at this event complaining that they can't go to Ireland any more.
If there are any TERFs reading this, what would you say to them?
Neither history nor science are on your side. Listen to how similar your talk is to that of homophobes of 30 or 40 years ago, or how lesbians were treated by the feminist movement of the 1960s. You can learn from it, or you can repeat it. Either way, we will come out on top, with or without you, as so many others have done in the face of bigotry.
Neither history nor science are on your side. Listen to how similar your talk is to that of homophobes of 30 or 40 years ago, or how lesbians were treated by the feminist movement of the 1960s. You can learn from it, or you can repeat it. Either way, we will come out on top, with or without you, as so many others have done in the face of bigotry.
Finally, trans women are women.
Just one more question. I know you want to remain anonymous so feel free to take care not to reveal anything that says who you are, but just to get an impression of the woman behind the activist... if you were to wake up tomorrow and suddenly all the problems were solved, no one misgenders you anymore, you're considered a legitimate woman by everyone and you've achieved your goal… what would you do with the rest of your life?
If we're including breaking off the constraints of capitalism in this? I'd like to learn to be a pilot. I've always wanted to fly!
Fantastic! Thank you so much for doing the interview, it's been a pleasure to talk to you. Genuinely, all the best for the future.
No problem! I hope this is useful and people learn something!
Just one more question. I know you want to remain anonymous so feel free to take care not to reveal anything that says who you are, but just to get an impression of the woman behind the activist... if you were to wake up tomorrow and suddenly all the problems were solved, no one misgenders you anymore, you're considered a legitimate woman by everyone and you've achieved your goal… what would you do with the rest of your life?
If we're including breaking off the constraints of capitalism in this? I'd like to learn to be a pilot. I've always wanted to fly!
Fantastic! Thank you so much for doing the interview, it's been a pleasure to talk to you. Genuinely, all the best for the future.
No problem! I hope this is useful and people learn something!
Friday, 20 April 2018
Why the civil rights of a minority are more important than the 'freedom' of the majority
When I came home last night, it was to find that 'feminist' Julie Bindel had described me on Twitter as a 'bellend', an 'orange-fringed brat' and an 'aggressive, spoilt, privileged, posh identifarian'. This was due to me attending a protest at a venue in Bristol called The Jam Jar, which was hosting an event called We Need To Talk About Sex, in which the Gender Recognition Act, and by extension the rights of transgender people (particularly transwomen) to use gender-exclusive spaces, was being debated. (I'm gutted that Bindel has since removed the tweets, but thankfully I saved them and they now happily reside in the 'Testimonials' in my introduction section.)
This debate had provoked an awful lot of discussion, in ways that are actually more diverse than most protests I have been at. There is a strong argument that if you support freedom of speech, which I do, then you have to support the venue hosting an event like this and the people taking part in it. 'I disapprove of what you say, but I defend to the death your right to say it', and all that, which is something I frequently quote myself. I know at least two comrades from other campaigns who have taken against this protest for that reason. I completely understand where they are coming from, having spent quite a lot of time in the hours leading up to the protest debating it with myself for that reason. But I want to debunk a little of this here, because ultimately I came to a different conclusion.
I'm a cisgendered man, and have become increasingly aware about trans issues over the last few years, having become friends with a few transgender people. I'm entirely supportive of trans people and people of a trans background* being able to self-identify, and believe that no one has the right to dictate anything otherwise. But, if you are cisgendered it tends to stop there. It's quite difficult to talk about trans issues without offending someone - not because people are just hyper-sensitive, but because if you are lucky enough not to have been there you can't fully empathise. Even as a trans ally, I'll hold my hands up and admit I don't understand trans issues at all. The more you talk to transgender people, the more you realise how ignorant you really are. So I try my best to only talk directly about transgender issues using other people's words who are more informed than I, and when I am with transgender friends, to keep quiet, listen to what they say and not to dominate the discussion. I think I'm quite a domineering person even when I don't want to be, but one can only try one's hardest.
The simplest antidote to the freedom of speech argument is - yes, they have a right to say what they like, just as everyone else has a right to object to this. That is really the crux of it. We did not object to the right of people to have this debate. We have not asked the Government to say, 'You must not say this'. We didn't even (contrary to what some may tell you) prevent anyone from accessing it; we held a banner over the entrance, but people were always allowed to pass by and enter the building. What we are objecting to is people choosing to have this debate. Something that came up a lot is, 'Why don't you just come in and contribute to the discussion if you have an opinion?' A lot of my friends have responded to this by saying that the reason is that they aren't prepared to debate with TERFs (Trans-Exclusionary Reactionary Fuckwits) because TERFs by definition are oppressing the rights of trans people, questioning the validity of their existence and causing harm to them within society. One friend who is both transgender and Jewish likened it to suggesting that Jews have an open discussion with Nazis. You cannot have a reasoned discussion with someone who objects to the very terms of your existence. (One of my friends in particular makes some really eloquent points on social media, and I'd love to publish some of them on this blog, but at the time of writing she has not given me permission to do that - if she does subsequently, I may well put something up from her in a following blog.)
Whilst I agree with these points, I actually think it's even more simple than that. I will go out there and say: we did contribute to the discussion. We contributed by showing everyone exactly what we think of the way that this talk was framed. If people wanted to hear the alternative views of transfolk, they heard them outside the building on the way in. As a cisgendered man, I learned a whole lot more outside than I would have done had I been inside. I heard the people aggressively challenging the transfolk standing next to me, telling them that the freedom of speech of the oppressors was more important than the safety of the oppressed. I became aware of my own male cisgendered privilege when both media bodies in attendance approached me for an interview before anyone else - at an event about transwomen, the opinion of a cisgendered man such as myself was considered more important than the opinions of actual transwomen. If you're a cisgendered person who wants to learn more about the trans community, the most effective way to do that is to listen to them. To stand with them at demonstrations like this. To watch as the police are called on them. To storm buildings on their behalf and risk arrest on their behalf.
Because these are the sort of struggles that people in our society are going through. And within 24 hours, I have gone from being somewhat conflicted about whether or not I have to support events like this in the name of freedom of speech, to realising that it's far more clear-cut than that. This is not really about freedom of speech; this is about wanting to silence one of the most oppressed minorities without receiving any criticism. This is what I try to challenge every day of my life, and what I think everyone should try to challenge. And we should be bloody proud of those who are.
*I met a man last year who said that having successfully transitioned, he no longer considers himself transgender, but rather as someone who has a trans background who has since become cisgender. I shall use the term 'transgender' fairly broadly in this blog in the interests of being clear in what I am saying, but I am aware that some people aren't comfortable with the term applying to them.
This debate had provoked an awful lot of discussion, in ways that are actually more diverse than most protests I have been at. There is a strong argument that if you support freedom of speech, which I do, then you have to support the venue hosting an event like this and the people taking part in it. 'I disapprove of what you say, but I defend to the death your right to say it', and all that, which is something I frequently quote myself. I know at least two comrades from other campaigns who have taken against this protest for that reason. I completely understand where they are coming from, having spent quite a lot of time in the hours leading up to the protest debating it with myself for that reason. But I want to debunk a little of this here, because ultimately I came to a different conclusion.
I'm a cisgendered man, and have become increasingly aware about trans issues over the last few years, having become friends with a few transgender people. I'm entirely supportive of trans people and people of a trans background* being able to self-identify, and believe that no one has the right to dictate anything otherwise. But, if you are cisgendered it tends to stop there. It's quite difficult to talk about trans issues without offending someone - not because people are just hyper-sensitive, but because if you are lucky enough not to have been there you can't fully empathise. Even as a trans ally, I'll hold my hands up and admit I don't understand trans issues at all. The more you talk to transgender people, the more you realise how ignorant you really are. So I try my best to only talk directly about transgender issues using other people's words who are more informed than I, and when I am with transgender friends, to keep quiet, listen to what they say and not to dominate the discussion. I think I'm quite a domineering person even when I don't want to be, but one can only try one's hardest.
The simplest antidote to the freedom of speech argument is - yes, they have a right to say what they like, just as everyone else has a right to object to this. That is really the crux of it. We did not object to the right of people to have this debate. We have not asked the Government to say, 'You must not say this'. We didn't even (contrary to what some may tell you) prevent anyone from accessing it; we held a banner over the entrance, but people were always allowed to pass by and enter the building. What we are objecting to is people choosing to have this debate. Something that came up a lot is, 'Why don't you just come in and contribute to the discussion if you have an opinion?' A lot of my friends have responded to this by saying that the reason is that they aren't prepared to debate with TERFs (Trans-Exclusionary Reactionary Fuckwits) because TERFs by definition are oppressing the rights of trans people, questioning the validity of their existence and causing harm to them within society. One friend who is both transgender and Jewish likened it to suggesting that Jews have an open discussion with Nazis. You cannot have a reasoned discussion with someone who objects to the very terms of your existence. (One of my friends in particular makes some really eloquent points on social media, and I'd love to publish some of them on this blog, but at the time of writing she has not given me permission to do that - if she does subsequently, I may well put something up from her in a following blog.)
Whilst I agree with these points, I actually think it's even more simple than that. I will go out there and say: we did contribute to the discussion. We contributed by showing everyone exactly what we think of the way that this talk was framed. If people wanted to hear the alternative views of transfolk, they heard them outside the building on the way in. As a cisgendered man, I learned a whole lot more outside than I would have done had I been inside. I heard the people aggressively challenging the transfolk standing next to me, telling them that the freedom of speech of the oppressors was more important than the safety of the oppressed. I became aware of my own male cisgendered privilege when both media bodies in attendance approached me for an interview before anyone else - at an event about transwomen, the opinion of a cisgendered man such as myself was considered more important than the opinions of actual transwomen. If you're a cisgendered person who wants to learn more about the trans community, the most effective way to do that is to listen to them. To stand with them at demonstrations like this. To watch as the police are called on them. To storm buildings on their behalf and risk arrest on their behalf.
Because these are the sort of struggles that people in our society are going through. And within 24 hours, I have gone from being somewhat conflicted about whether or not I have to support events like this in the name of freedom of speech, to realising that it's far more clear-cut than that. This is not really about freedom of speech; this is about wanting to silence one of the most oppressed minorities without receiving any criticism. This is what I try to challenge every day of my life, and what I think everyone should try to challenge. And we should be bloody proud of those who are.
*I met a man last year who said that having successfully transitioned, he no longer considers himself transgender, but rather as someone who has a trans background who has since become cisgender. I shall use the term 'transgender' fairly broadly in this blog in the interests of being clear in what I am saying, but I am aware that some people aren't comfortable with the term applying to them.
Monday, 16 April 2018
So we're going to war again...
What a bizarre week! I was in a hotel in London when I heard the news we were about to launch strikes on Syria… unusually, not through social media but the old fashioned way, through scrolling news on a muted TV screen whilst one tries to work out exactly how much of the vegetarian full English breakfast is vegan (not very much, as it happens). My reaction, like that of most people, was something along the lines of: 'Oh gosh, surely, surely we've learned our lesson by now?'
And like most people, I am apparently far too optimistic. Thankfully, the one thing to be optimistic about is that every time we take this course of action, the number of people enraged seems to multiply and intensify. Since last Thursday, my Facebook feed has had more posts from people condemning this decision on it than on pretty much all other subjects put together. It may seem like a pretty hollow consolation, but there are some really positive effects that social media can have in this situation. Through the platforms of Facebook and Twitter, it's easier to feel brought together with other people who feel the same way you do without attending a rally in person (not that I'm recommending people stop attending rallies of course, I'm going to one later today).
I could talk at length about why I feel this decision is harmful, or about why I feel diplomacy is a more effective means of securing peace in the region, but I'm sure there are people more qualified than I to make those points. What I can say is that I don't feel that peace in the region is the ultimate goal here. If we wanted peace in any parts of the world, we wouldn't have appointed a Foreign Secretary who offends someone every time he opens his mouth. We wouldn't have spent the last fifteen years bombing various countries, and for the most part, making them many times worse. We wouldn't be constantly supplying weapons to Saudi Arabia and laying out a red carpet for its leaders, when it is currently engaged in using those weapons in Yemen, in one of the most vicious massacres known to human history. We send aid to countries that are being attacked by our own weapons. Think about that.
Instead, all of these decisions are political. I will most likely talk about exactly where the political decisions on this lie in a subsequent blog post, but in the meantime I will talk about what one can do.
And like most people, I am apparently far too optimistic. Thankfully, the one thing to be optimistic about is that every time we take this course of action, the number of people enraged seems to multiply and intensify. Since last Thursday, my Facebook feed has had more posts from people condemning this decision on it than on pretty much all other subjects put together. It may seem like a pretty hollow consolation, but there are some really positive effects that social media can have in this situation. Through the platforms of Facebook and Twitter, it's easier to feel brought together with other people who feel the same way you do without attending a rally in person (not that I'm recommending people stop attending rallies of course, I'm going to one later today).
I could talk at length about why I feel this decision is harmful, or about why I feel diplomacy is a more effective means of securing peace in the region, but I'm sure there are people more qualified than I to make those points. What I can say is that I don't feel that peace in the region is the ultimate goal here. If we wanted peace in any parts of the world, we wouldn't have appointed a Foreign Secretary who offends someone every time he opens his mouth. We wouldn't have spent the last fifteen years bombing various countries, and for the most part, making them many times worse. We wouldn't be constantly supplying weapons to Saudi Arabia and laying out a red carpet for its leaders, when it is currently engaged in using those weapons in Yemen, in one of the most vicious massacres known to human history. We send aid to countries that are being attacked by our own weapons. Think about that.
Instead, all of these decisions are political. I will most likely talk about exactly where the political decisions on this lie in a subsequent blog post, but in the meantime I will talk about what one can do.
- Attend rallies. If you're on social media it should be really easy to find information about what is going on in your local community. There are a lot of emergency demonstrations going on, so please do your research into it. The organisation Stop the War is also a really good one to follow to find out what you can do.
- Write to your MP. Given the amount of democracy-hiding going on these days this may seem a bit redundant, but it is always worth doing. MPs quite often respond to opposition to their principles by pointing out that their constituents don't seem to be complaining. Don't give them that option. The Government is in a very unstable postion, and the more MPs who speak up, the less controversial they're going to want to be.
- Keep campaigning for a vote of no confidence and a General Election. This Government will have to have power plucked from its cold, dead hands, but it does increasingly feel like that day is coming. But it will only come if opportunities like this are taken advantage of (and yes, as horrendous as they are, military decisions are certainly a political opportunity for the left).
That's all for now, though I have no doubt that at some point in the future I'll comment on the political mentality that led to this decision. I need to spend a bit more time reading about that first!
Friday, 6 April 2018
If you're going to criticise someone, at least be honest about it
Since the appointment of Jeremy Corbyn to the position of leader of the Labour Party in 2015, there have been an awful lot of criticisms of him for various different things. Most of these criticisms I am not really qualified to address, but I think it is fair to say that they vary widely, frequently contradict one another, and an outsider could be forgiven for thinking that Jeremy Corbyn is at least in part responsible for everything bad that has happened in the UK since at least the 1980s, if not earlier (and 'bad' is subjective in this sense).
One of the most frequent criticisms, and certainly the most heavy one of the last few weeks, is accusations of Jeremy Corbyn being anti-Semitic (a kinder version of this complaint is that even if he personally is not, there's a wealth of anti-Semitism within the Labour Party that he is doing absolutely nothing about). As I said in the previous paragraph, this isn't something I'm really able to comment on, as I am neither Jewish nor a member of the Labour Party. From what I can make out from various media sources, the majority of anti-Semitic rhetoric seems to come more from the far-right than the left and centre-left - but I'll accept, it may well be that Labour is a hotbed of anti-Semitic hatred that I am completely ignorant of. We all can only go by our own experiences, after all.
However, what can be proven is that since Jeremy Corbyn entered Parliament in 1983, he is one of only 8% of MPs to have consistently signed motions against anti-semitism, as well as the following:
One of the most frequent criticisms, and certainly the most heavy one of the last few weeks, is accusations of Jeremy Corbyn being anti-Semitic (a kinder version of this complaint is that even if he personally is not, there's a wealth of anti-Semitism within the Labour Party that he is doing absolutely nothing about). As I said in the previous paragraph, this isn't something I'm really able to comment on, as I am neither Jewish nor a member of the Labour Party. From what I can make out from various media sources, the majority of anti-Semitic rhetoric seems to come more from the far-right than the left and centre-left - but I'll accept, it may well be that Labour is a hotbed of anti-Semitic hatred that I am completely ignorant of. We all can only go by our own experiences, after all.
However, what can be proven is that since Jeremy Corbyn entered Parliament in 1983, he is one of only 8% of MPs to have consistently signed motions against anti-semitism, as well as the following:
- 1990 - signed a motion condemning the publication of anti-Semitic materials in the UK
- 2003 - signed a motion condemning an attack on two synagogues
- 2009 - signed a motion condemning anti-Semitic material on the Internet
- 2010 - signed a motion congratulating the Jewish newspaper and website Jewish News for its investigations into anti-Semitism on social media; also signed a motion praising former Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin's attempts to secure peace within the region
- 2012 - signed a motion condemning the BBC for cancelling the radio show Jewish Citizen Manchester, which was made by the Jewish community for the Jewish community
- 2013 - signed a Parliamentary motion condemning anti-Semitic abuse within football and other sports
- 2014 - signed a motion commemorating the importance of Holocaust Memorial Day
- 2015 - signed an almost identical motion to the one above, with the significance that it was the 70th anniversary; also signed a motion praising the Jewish community of Golders Green for their solidarity in the face of racist marches
However, much as I've generally been a supporter of his incarnation of the Labour Party, this blog is not really about praise for Jeremy Corbyn. I may personally like a lot of his policies and him as a character, but if other people don't it doesn't really bother me. We all have a right to express our own opinions, provided that that opinion is coherent and backed up by logical argument.
That last bit is in bold, because these claims of Jeremy Corbyn supposedly promoting anti-Semitism within Labour (despite inexplicably having voted in the way he did on the examples above) is not even comprehensible to his political opponents. This has all come to a head within the last week or so, when Corbyn celebrated a Passover feast with a group called Jewdas. Jewdas describes itself as 'radical voices for the alternative diaspora' (the word 'diaspora' here means 'the dispersal of Jews beyond Israel', which in the interests of multiculturalism I needless to say approve of). Jewdas is staunchly opposed to the occupation of Palestine by Israel (as am I). Beyond this, I will confess I knew nothing about this organisation until a week ago - so just as with the levels of anti-Semitism in the Labour Party, it's not something I can comment on.
The Cambridge dictionary definition of 'antisemitic' is as follows:
'having or showing a strong dislike of Jewish people, or treating them in a cruel and unfair way'
There admittedly is a strong case for the word to have a broader meaning as 'Semitic' does not by its origins refer exclusively to Jewish people, but I shan't dwell on that. But my point here is this. If someone objects to the actions of a person or a society as being anti-Semitic, using the above definition, the Jewishness of the alleged victim must be the determining factor in decrying an alleged perpetrator's actions as being anti-Semitic. If you just dislike someone, or disagree with someone, who happens to be Jewish, it isn't by default anti-Semitic unless the other person's Jewish status is the reason for it. And the reaction from certain wings of the Labour Party to Jeremy Corbyn's attendance of Jewdas' Passover feast pretty much demonstrates that this is not about anti-Semitism, and never has been. This is about Corbyn's political opinions. It is not anti-Semitic to support Palestine, or to condemn Israel - in fact, I know many Jews who do just that.
Frankly, I actually find this reaction to be vastly more anti-Semitic than what Corbyn has been condemned for doing. It is a pretty blatant exploitation of the Jewish community to paint the Leader of Her Majesty's Opposition as being something he isn't. At what point is exploitation of a marginalised group to score a cheap political point not offensive? But this feeds into a wider point about honesty in our expression of political viewpoints. I think of myself as being very honest - I may not always make points that people agree with (no one does), but I always endeavour to be upfront about the reasons why I hold them. I think everyone should do that. So bearing that in mind, why not just be honest if you disagree with someone?
When you stop and think about it, you realise that this form of dishonesty extends beyond just this issue, particularly where Jeremy Corbyn is concerned but I imagine across the political spectrum. The example that springs to mind is the furore last year about how Labour had supposedly let down graduates by claiming that they'd cancel their University debts. Now whether or not Jeremy Corbyn made that promise is a discussion for another time (hint: he didn't), but there is quite an important point about it that was rarely brought up in the discussion. And it's this: Look at this situation from the most cynical perspective, which is that Jeremy Corbyn made a promise that he had no intention of fulfilling to win votes, and then backtracked after the election. This is what a lot of politicians do, after all - we're used to it, aren't we? Well, yes, except for one thing: Labour didn't win the election. That is a pretty significant hole in this theory. If you'd made an empty promise and then didn't win the election, why on earth would you admit it was an empty promise? Tactically, it would be far more savvy to continue pretending that that was what you were going to do. For some reason, I saw very few people make this counterpoint, but I think it completely destroys the argument that Corbyn was somehow being deceitful in its tracks. And again, it's something that no one ever really believed - there was no honesty in it. It was all just a means of discrediting.
If you disagree with Jeremy Corbyn's position on Israel, say so - but don't try to paint it as opposition to Judaism generally. If you do that, it undermines your own argument, slanders the person you're criticising, and worst of all, exploits the Jewish community, which doesn't need to be exploited for such purposes. Whether you are Jewish or not, you do not have the right to determine whether or not someone is the right kind of Jew, based on their political opinions or anything else.
Friday, 16 March 2018
Release the remaining IPP prisoners
'If you can't do the time, don't do the crime', so says the old aphorism. But what if the time has already been done?
In 2003, Imprisonment for Public Protection sentences (IPP sentences) were introduced by the then Home Secretary, David Blunkett. These sentences were for an indeterminate amount of time beyond their tariff, and were intended to protect the public from serious criminals - people whose crimes were not serious enough to warrant a life sentence, but were still considered a danger to the public; therefore, they could be kept in custody until the threat had been reduced enough for them to re-enter society (based on reports from periodical assessments by psychiatrists and prison guards). Initially the Home Office expected to impose this sentence on only around 900 people.
However, it transpired that over ten times this estimate were actually given these sentences. In 2012, these sentences were abolished under the Legal Aid, Sentencing and Punishment of Offenders Act 2012. However, this did not apply retrospectively, and there are still around 3,500 prisoners serving indeterminate sentences, 81% of whom have passed their tariff. Many of these prisoners are serving time for fairly minor convictions when compared to the crimes these sentences were introduced for, and many that have been released have be called back for things that pose little or no threat to the public, such as arriving back at a hostel drunk.
There is currently a major campaign going by the families of remaining prisoners to release them, and I feel as though the most effective way to emphasise this point is to share with you this ten-minute film:
As you will see if you have watched it, this is not so much about a malicious plot against anyone, as much as it is a significantly large group of people who have slipped through the cracks and been forgotten about by the establishment.
But there is an ever-growing movement against it, and I've really written this blog to try to get more people onside. Firstly, I recommend signing this petition if you have not already done so. Secondly, on 23 May there is a protest in London, marching from Parliament to the Ministry of Justice. I intend to go to this if I can, and I'd encourage others to as well. Unfortunately the protest doesn't seem to have a Facebook event page, but you can RSVP on the 38 Degrees website and put yourself forward for regular updates on this.
It must be stressed that this is not about defending any of the actions that may have been committed by these prisoners in the past. It is more an objection to the clumsy sentencing of people to life through the backdoor. Any reasonable person should see that no matter what someone has done, a sentence should be reflective, determinate and not subject to change arbitrarily. Let's all come together and make a positive change through pressure on the powers that be to end the plight of these prisoners for good.
Link to official campaign blog:
http://ippfanilycampaign.blogspot.co.uk
In 2003, Imprisonment for Public Protection sentences (IPP sentences) were introduced by the then Home Secretary, David Blunkett. These sentences were for an indeterminate amount of time beyond their tariff, and were intended to protect the public from serious criminals - people whose crimes were not serious enough to warrant a life sentence, but were still considered a danger to the public; therefore, they could be kept in custody until the threat had been reduced enough for them to re-enter society (based on reports from periodical assessments by psychiatrists and prison guards). Initially the Home Office expected to impose this sentence on only around 900 people.
However, it transpired that over ten times this estimate were actually given these sentences. In 2012, these sentences were abolished under the Legal Aid, Sentencing and Punishment of Offenders Act 2012. However, this did not apply retrospectively, and there are still around 3,500 prisoners serving indeterminate sentences, 81% of whom have passed their tariff. Many of these prisoners are serving time for fairly minor convictions when compared to the crimes these sentences were introduced for, and many that have been released have be called back for things that pose little or no threat to the public, such as arriving back at a hostel drunk.
There is currently a major campaign going by the families of remaining prisoners to release them, and I feel as though the most effective way to emphasise this point is to share with you this ten-minute film:
As you will see if you have watched it, this is not so much about a malicious plot against anyone, as much as it is a significantly large group of people who have slipped through the cracks and been forgotten about by the establishment.
But there is an ever-growing movement against it, and I've really written this blog to try to get more people onside. Firstly, I recommend signing this petition if you have not already done so. Secondly, on 23 May there is a protest in London, marching from Parliament to the Ministry of Justice. I intend to go to this if I can, and I'd encourage others to as well. Unfortunately the protest doesn't seem to have a Facebook event page, but you can RSVP on the 38 Degrees website and put yourself forward for regular updates on this.
It must be stressed that this is not about defending any of the actions that may have been committed by these prisoners in the past. It is more an objection to the clumsy sentencing of people to life through the backdoor. Any reasonable person should see that no matter what someone has done, a sentence should be reflective, determinate and not subject to change arbitrarily. Let's all come together and make a positive change through pressure on the powers that be to end the plight of these prisoners for good.
Link to official campaign blog:
http://ippfanilycampaign.blogspot.co.uk
Saturday, 3 March 2018
Confessions of a male, feminist, sexually divergent, mentally ill charity fundraiser
What has happened to this blog? Well, what happened to it was that I just collapsed. I started last year intending to update it every week, but towards the end of February my mental health just dropped like a stone. I didn't feel about to write, or to function, or to do anything much except run and run. I have improved, in many ways, but in many ways I am also still very unwell. I fluctuate, but I hope to update this blog a lot more frequently this year than I did last year. The advantage I have this year is that I actually have a clear idea of where I am and what I'm planning in the future, which is an important thing.
So I've been trying to think what my first blog back should be about. I have so many things to write about that it's difficult to know where to begin, but since October I've been working as a door-to-door charity cold caller. Doing this job gave me some energy and the ability to plan for my future again, which is what I needed. It's a fun job to do, you get the knowledge that you're doing something great for charity, and you work alongside some fantastic people. I had an idea yesterday that I should write about a couple of fascinating social scenarios I've come across with some of my colleagues, because think they betray some very interesting societal attitudes that we could all do with talking about more. I shall protect the innocent as much as possible.
Casual heteronormativity
The first one involves two people who I work with very frequently, both of whom have become my good friends and who I love spending time with. They think I'm a bit odd really... (They're probably right… I do have a tendency to correct everyone's grammar and break into song at random intervals, after all…) Anyway, a few months back I ended up telling the story of how I gave up drinking alcohol after my first year at Uni. It's an embarrassing story that I won't go into detail about (I can laugh at it now!), but it did involve me making a very obvious pass at a male friend. When I told this story, my colleagues found it very funny. Colleague 1 said, 'Gay!' Colleague 2 quickly said to Colleague 1, 'You know George is gay, right?' Now, I have never given much indication as to my sexual orientation to either of these guys, or to anyone else. They were both working with the same amount of evidence, one of them assumed I was straight and the other one assumed I was gay - they can't both be right, and actually both are wrong. But the really interesting thing is that these respective assumptions led each of them to a conclusion of what it was and wasn't appropriate to say to me. Colleague 1, assuming I was straight, teased me about doing something that suggested I was gay, in a way he never would had he thought I was actually gay. Colleague 2, believing I was actually gay, gave Colleague 1 a minor rebuke to spare my feelings, in a way that would have seemed unnecessary if he'd thought I was straight. This may get slightly awkward if they read this, which they may do; I can honestly say I was not offended by either of these things, but I did find it quite a revelation to see the differences in how each of them would speak to a gay colleague as opposed to a straight one.
Casual sexism
My second anecdote is really a couple of things rolled into one. I am a feminist. When you're a male feminist working predominantly with other men, you tend to feel a bit more compelled to call out casual sexism when you see it than you would otherwise. I've heard it said that the #notallmen hashtag is counter-productive because all it is for (supposedly) is for men to tell women that they aren't what they (the women) are complaining about. I completely disagree with this, because I think it's important that men use this with each other. I'm not sure women always realise how different it is to be in an all-male group to being in a mixed group; I vastly prefer having at least one woman on my team, because on an all-male team it seems I am expected to go along with the male banter, which isn't something that normally makes me feel comfortable. For the most part I can handle it, but sometimes it's tricky. When I first joined the company, I had a colleague who, after I stepped off a door with a woman, would try to engage me in conversations that tended to go as follows:
Him: 'Was she sexy?'
Me: 'I'm not going to answer that question.'
Him: 'Honestly George, you need to lighten up!'
Me: 'Actually, no I don't, I'm completely happy as I am without objectifying people we're dealing with.'
I no longer work with that person, and thankfully now that people have got to know me they rarely try to involve me so blatantly in that sort of thing. But it does still come up, and I notice the way that on the doors men are often referred to as 'mate' and women as 'love'. The other week, there was a slight altercation where I called this out. I probably wouldn't have brought it up, but for the fact that someone was talking about how he'd started saying 'All right, love?' and then realised the person was a man. I said, quite truthfully, that if he'd been treating everyone with equal terminology this wouldn't have been an issue. His response implied that in the region of the country he comes from it's very natural, which I actually thought was pathetic; having done something in the past does not by itself make it fine to carry on doing it. The conversation didn't last that long, but on a later occasion a different colleague who had been present (a much closer friend) made a tactful suggestion that maybe calling him sexist had been going a bit far - there was an indication that theoretically, he could have been sacked as a result of me calling that out. I see that point, and I have spent hours afterwards questioning whether I was wrong, but on the whole I don't think so somehow. At what point do you decide to call someone out? Is it when someone's behaviour is actually violent, or is it before that? I think with women in particular, we tend to assume an intimacy we haven't earned; I would never consider calling someone 'love' unless I knew them well. If this isn't called out when it is witnessed, even if it isn't doing any harm by itself, that suggestion that we treat people differently depending on their gender is left to fester, and that is quite disturbing to me. It also completely alientates gender-neutral/non-binary people (I'm aware that I've used the terms 'male' and 'female' fairly loosely here, and apologies if this offends anyone - it's for want of better terms, I don't think I could tell these anecdotes without them). Moreover, if someone was sacked for saying something like that, that is the fault of the perpetrator, not the witness. If I point something out to someone, that gives them the opportunity to stop doing it; if they don't and get into trouble for it, I don't see how that is my responsibility at all. It's going down that route that leads to the turning of blind eyes to distasteful things.
Casual mental health stigma
Out of everything here, this is the only one that deeply offended me, though I did my best not to show it. During a training session, my boss became very upset with me when it came out that in a couple of my pitches I had mentioned the mental health problems I have with people on doors. He categorically told me not to do that, and I find this completely unacceptable. Mental health is something we're all becoming more aware of; it is becoming less of a taboo subject, and this is incredibly important, but there is still a stigma around it. The only way we can remove that is by feeling comfortable to talk about it, the same way we would about something like dyslexia. I'm not dyslexic, but I have a mild learning difficulty which means I get baffled about spatial things - I get my left and right confused occasionally, but the only major problem it causes in my life is that I find it inordinately difficult to tie my own shoelaces. This has come up occasionally on a door - someone will mention that my shoelaces have come untied, I'll laugh and explain. I haven't actually told my boss that I've done this, but I would be willing to place a bet on the fact that he wouldn't object at all - why would he? There isn't a stigma around that. I have the humility to see that there are exceptions to this - if I was using my struggles as a sob story to manipulate the person into signing up to charity, that would be taking it too far - but this isn't what I do. A charity pitch is not supposed to be a lecture, it's supposed to be like a passionate conversation with a friend, and if you can use a personal example whilst still maintaining your professionalism, I'd actually say no one has the right to tell you not to do that. The only criteria that need to be considered when determining if it's appropriate to talk about what you've been through is whether you would feel comfortable to do so; no one else is qualified to make that judgement.
Anyway… welcome back to my blog! I'm not sure my employer would be happy that I've written this, but needs must. I have done my best to protect my sources, but the point is that even if I had named and shamed everyone, there isn't really anything to shame them for. None of these things are particularly incriminating - they're actually things we all do, every minute of the day. That doesn't mean we shouldn't call them out.
Remember that when they come up in your own lives.
So I've been trying to think what my first blog back should be about. I have so many things to write about that it's difficult to know where to begin, but since October I've been working as a door-to-door charity cold caller. Doing this job gave me some energy and the ability to plan for my future again, which is what I needed. It's a fun job to do, you get the knowledge that you're doing something great for charity, and you work alongside some fantastic people. I had an idea yesterday that I should write about a couple of fascinating social scenarios I've come across with some of my colleagues, because think they betray some very interesting societal attitudes that we could all do with talking about more. I shall protect the innocent as much as possible.
Casual heteronormativity
The first one involves two people who I work with very frequently, both of whom have become my good friends and who I love spending time with. They think I'm a bit odd really... (They're probably right… I do have a tendency to correct everyone's grammar and break into song at random intervals, after all…) Anyway, a few months back I ended up telling the story of how I gave up drinking alcohol after my first year at Uni. It's an embarrassing story that I won't go into detail about (I can laugh at it now!), but it did involve me making a very obvious pass at a male friend. When I told this story, my colleagues found it very funny. Colleague 1 said, 'Gay!' Colleague 2 quickly said to Colleague 1, 'You know George is gay, right?' Now, I have never given much indication as to my sexual orientation to either of these guys, or to anyone else. They were both working with the same amount of evidence, one of them assumed I was straight and the other one assumed I was gay - they can't both be right, and actually both are wrong. But the really interesting thing is that these respective assumptions led each of them to a conclusion of what it was and wasn't appropriate to say to me. Colleague 1, assuming I was straight, teased me about doing something that suggested I was gay, in a way he never would had he thought I was actually gay. Colleague 2, believing I was actually gay, gave Colleague 1 a minor rebuke to spare my feelings, in a way that would have seemed unnecessary if he'd thought I was straight. This may get slightly awkward if they read this, which they may do; I can honestly say I was not offended by either of these things, but I did find it quite a revelation to see the differences in how each of them would speak to a gay colleague as opposed to a straight one.
Casual sexism
My second anecdote is really a couple of things rolled into one. I am a feminist. When you're a male feminist working predominantly with other men, you tend to feel a bit more compelled to call out casual sexism when you see it than you would otherwise. I've heard it said that the #notallmen hashtag is counter-productive because all it is for (supposedly) is for men to tell women that they aren't what they (the women) are complaining about. I completely disagree with this, because I think it's important that men use this with each other. I'm not sure women always realise how different it is to be in an all-male group to being in a mixed group; I vastly prefer having at least one woman on my team, because on an all-male team it seems I am expected to go along with the male banter, which isn't something that normally makes me feel comfortable. For the most part I can handle it, but sometimes it's tricky. When I first joined the company, I had a colleague who, after I stepped off a door with a woman, would try to engage me in conversations that tended to go as follows:
Him: 'Was she sexy?'
Me: 'I'm not going to answer that question.'
Him: 'Honestly George, you need to lighten up!'
Me: 'Actually, no I don't, I'm completely happy as I am without objectifying people we're dealing with.'
I no longer work with that person, and thankfully now that people have got to know me they rarely try to involve me so blatantly in that sort of thing. But it does still come up, and I notice the way that on the doors men are often referred to as 'mate' and women as 'love'. The other week, there was a slight altercation where I called this out. I probably wouldn't have brought it up, but for the fact that someone was talking about how he'd started saying 'All right, love?' and then realised the person was a man. I said, quite truthfully, that if he'd been treating everyone with equal terminology this wouldn't have been an issue. His response implied that in the region of the country he comes from it's very natural, which I actually thought was pathetic; having done something in the past does not by itself make it fine to carry on doing it. The conversation didn't last that long, but on a later occasion a different colleague who had been present (a much closer friend) made a tactful suggestion that maybe calling him sexist had been going a bit far - there was an indication that theoretically, he could have been sacked as a result of me calling that out. I see that point, and I have spent hours afterwards questioning whether I was wrong, but on the whole I don't think so somehow. At what point do you decide to call someone out? Is it when someone's behaviour is actually violent, or is it before that? I think with women in particular, we tend to assume an intimacy we haven't earned; I would never consider calling someone 'love' unless I knew them well. If this isn't called out when it is witnessed, even if it isn't doing any harm by itself, that suggestion that we treat people differently depending on their gender is left to fester, and that is quite disturbing to me. It also completely alientates gender-neutral/non-binary people (I'm aware that I've used the terms 'male' and 'female' fairly loosely here, and apologies if this offends anyone - it's for want of better terms, I don't think I could tell these anecdotes without them). Moreover, if someone was sacked for saying something like that, that is the fault of the perpetrator, not the witness. If I point something out to someone, that gives them the opportunity to stop doing it; if they don't and get into trouble for it, I don't see how that is my responsibility at all. It's going down that route that leads to the turning of blind eyes to distasteful things.
Casual mental health stigma
Out of everything here, this is the only one that deeply offended me, though I did my best not to show it. During a training session, my boss became very upset with me when it came out that in a couple of my pitches I had mentioned the mental health problems I have with people on doors. He categorically told me not to do that, and I find this completely unacceptable. Mental health is something we're all becoming more aware of; it is becoming less of a taboo subject, and this is incredibly important, but there is still a stigma around it. The only way we can remove that is by feeling comfortable to talk about it, the same way we would about something like dyslexia. I'm not dyslexic, but I have a mild learning difficulty which means I get baffled about spatial things - I get my left and right confused occasionally, but the only major problem it causes in my life is that I find it inordinately difficult to tie my own shoelaces. This has come up occasionally on a door - someone will mention that my shoelaces have come untied, I'll laugh and explain. I haven't actually told my boss that I've done this, but I would be willing to place a bet on the fact that he wouldn't object at all - why would he? There isn't a stigma around that. I have the humility to see that there are exceptions to this - if I was using my struggles as a sob story to manipulate the person into signing up to charity, that would be taking it too far - but this isn't what I do. A charity pitch is not supposed to be a lecture, it's supposed to be like a passionate conversation with a friend, and if you can use a personal example whilst still maintaining your professionalism, I'd actually say no one has the right to tell you not to do that. The only criteria that need to be considered when determining if it's appropriate to talk about what you've been through is whether you would feel comfortable to do so; no one else is qualified to make that judgement.
Anyway… welcome back to my blog! I'm not sure my employer would be happy that I've written this, but needs must. I have done my best to protect my sources, but the point is that even if I had named and shamed everyone, there isn't really anything to shame them for. None of these things are particularly incriminating - they're actually things we all do, every minute of the day. That doesn't mean we shouldn't call them out.
Remember that when they come up in your own lives.
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