AGP

I mentioned a few posts back that I’d dallied with Twitter recently. I closed my account eventually because I found the aggression associated with much activity on the platform to be upsetting. People who had never met me, or even exchanged messages with me, would assert confidently and aggressively that I was AGP (an autogynephile). The assertion carried an implicit moral judgement – when I’m out and about, or in the ladies changing room trying on a new dress, I’m all aroused and isn’t it disgusting to think about that sort of behaviour? Things spread like a contagion around Twitter, where the vector is the sharing of microscopic and carefully selected snippets of information. These conceptual bacteria are selected because they suit people’s prejudices, and they get tweeted and retweeted, until one rapidly has a group of folk who share a common perspective that is fed by an entirely unbalanced information-gathering system, leading them not to a consensus, but rather, to its inverse.

The concept of autogynephilia provides a convenient heuristic for trans-haters. I’ve written at length about it elsewhere on this site. The idea originates with Canadian psychologist Ray Blanchard, who hypothesised that there were two types of gender dysphoric individual: those who were attracted to men, or androphilic gender dysphorics, and those who were attracted to women. Blanchard hypothesised that the majority of the latter group were autogynephiles. He defined an autogynephile to be somebody who is erotically attracted to the idea of themself as a woman. He calls it an “erotic target location error” – a paraphilia.

In the debate about gender identity, the idea has proved to be dynamite: as trans people have come out and asserted their right to exist and enjoy protections in law, there has been a parallel movement to explain away transgender identities as fetishistic behaviour. Blanchard’s hypothesis of autogynephilia has provided a scientific framework with which to debunk the notion that transwomen are people expressing an inner sense that they have a feminine identity; the autogynephilia hypothesis (it is argued) suggests its just a sexual kink.

“AGP” has metamorphosed into an easy put-down. Are you attracted to men? If the answer is no then you must be AGP, because Blanchard proved it. For some transsexuals the concept has proved attractive. There are those who wish to prove themselves to be “really” trans. Have you had surgery? Maybe you’re AGP. Not had surgery and not gay? You really are AGP. The willingness of those who are also gender dysphoric to be so quick to judge people they have never known is particularly upsetting.

Then there are those transsexuals who are believe that they are best described as autogynephiles. There is Anne Lawrence, whose work I’ve dealt with elsewhere, or Miranda Yardley in the UK. Miranda is outspoken and thoughtful on many issues, and she addresses fearlessly issues that are not addressed honestly by much of the transgender community. However, she also falls prey to the desire to mass-diagnose people she has never met as AGP. On Twitter I also met ex-trans people who assert aggressively the universal origin of gender dysphoria in AGP. These people are uniformly unable to engage in sensible debate, and unable to consider that another person is incapable of experiencing the same desires as them. And then there are feminists. Of course for many feminists the theory of AGP plays to their darkest fears. But I must say that gender critical feminists were actually the group on Twitter most willing to sustain intelligent discourse, and the least hasty to judge.

In the arena of public discourse, the issue appears to be in large measure binary: Blanchard’s theory of AGP states that you’re attracted to men or you’re AGP. Try as I like to claim that I experience no erotic arousal while presenting in my feminine guise, there is no shortage of people who apparently have a much keener sensitivity to what happens between my legs than I do. If I don’t feel aroused, well I’m just not feeling things properly. Or I’m lying. Moreover, it is asserted, the psychologists’ manual, the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM) recognises AGP, which further proves I’m delusional or lying.

Let’s start with the DSM. DSM-5 includes autogynephilia as a sub-category of “transvestic disorder”, which is defined as “in tense sexual arousal from cross-dressing fantasies, urges or behaviors”; for many of the “haters” on Twitter gender dysphorics are now diagnosed by the DSM as AGP. For Blanchard inclusion of autogynephilia in the DSM was certainly a win because it incorporated his theory into the lexicon of psychological disorders. However, despite the ire that this move has provoked among transgender activists it falls short, to my understanding, of supporting the universal binary labelling of gender dysphorics as either “gay” or “AGP”. Trans activists have produced voluminous and multitudinous entries on blogs and web sites decrying the inclusion of autogynephilia in DSM-5 but I think the move still leaves enormous room for alternative diagnoses. It simply recognises that autogynephilia exists and as I’ve said elsewhere, I believe this is the case and, moreover, that the condition is widespread. My beef is that its not a catch-all diagnosis. The American Psychological Association, publishers of DSM-5, support this perspective, through a very carefully written description of gender dysphoria published on its web site.

Blanchard has a Twitter stream that is provocative and outspoken but also well-reasoned and thoughtful, although there is no doubt that he is the authentic grumpy old man and he displays no intention of dispelling the widely held notion that “AGP” is a universal theory for gender dysphoria that assigns all individuals to one of two precisely defined character types. This feeds the public desire to find a universal put-down for Trans people. I think his apparent unwillingness to inject nuance through this medium – in which he is engaged regularly – is disappointing. However, it should also be noted that he has been an outspoken advocate of surgical solutions for gender dysphorics in extremis during his professional career.

In contrast to his Twitter profile, however, Blanchard’s academic work is much more nuanced. There are plenty of caveats, exceptions are discussed and he admits that more work is needed. One cannot read his academic papers and conclude that his theory of autogynephilia is a universal, binary system for categorising gender dysphorics. Recently there have been forays into public engagement that have demonstrated a transfer of some of this subtlety. Recently, he and Michael Bailey (another psychologist who gave prominence to the concept of autogynephilia) made presented overview of gender dysphoria on the web site 4thWaveNow. In contrast to popular recapitulations of the AGP hypothesis, this piece is thoughtful, and written in more measured tones. The boundaries are fuzzier, and they identify a third category of gender dysphoria – rapid onset gender dysphoria, a type especially associated with adolescent girls..

“The first type—childhood-onset gender dysphoria—definitely occurs in both biological boys and girls. It is highly correlated with homosexuality–the sexual preference for one’s own biological sex–especially in natal males…The second type—autogynephilic gender dysphoria—occurs only in males. It is associated with a tendency to be sexually aroused by the thought or image of oneself as a female. This type of gender dysphoria sometimes starts during adolescence and sometimes during adulthood”.

They go on to say:

“The most obvious feature that distinguishes childhood-onset gender dysphoria from the other types is early appearance of gender nonconformity…A very gender nonconforming boy may dress up as a girl, play with dolls, dislike rough play, show indifference to team sports or contact sports, prefer girl playmates, try to be around adult women rather than adult men, and be known by other children as a “sissy” (a term generally used to ridicule and shame feminine boys).”

This paragraph certainly describes me as a child: I believe I displayed all of these traits. I must admit that I found it surprising to find Blanchard and Bailey agreeing that I do not fit their description of an autogynephile.

“Childhood-onset gender dysphoric boys who desist usually become nonheterosexual men. A smaller percentage have reported that they are heterosexual at follow up. Those who transition become transwomen attracted to men.”

Again, we see that the tone is measured and absolutism is lacking. The language is that of academic discourse – “highly correlated” (not either/or)”; “usually” (not always); “a smaller percentage have reported” (again, not either/or). My own experiences are in fact not categorised by Blanchard as characteristically “AGP”, and neither are they categorised by DSM-5 as fetishistic or autogynephilic. As a child I displayed exactly the kind of behaviour that Blanchard and Bailey describe as characteristically non-gender-conforming. I was bullied mercilessly for being a sissy at primary school, and I always got along much better with girls; in contrast, boys were a mystery to me and I never really knew how to play with them. It was only in adolescence thatI learned to fit in and act like one of the boys. Even now as an adult, I find I get along much better with the women I work with than the men, who in their 50s still betray many of the traits that mystified me as a child.

For me this underlines the importance of speaking out about these issues. There is a large and complicated debate to be had. The concept of autogynephilia is undoubtedly an important contribution to the understanding of gender dysphoria, but we must recognise its complexity and accept the paucity of good academic research.

As a professional scientist I am reminded often to consider the ethics of scientific enquiry and practice. That there is a moral imperative for leading academic scientists engaged in debate about issues that have a real and substatial impact on the life experiences of real human beings to speak carefully, in measured tones that reflect in public discourse the kinds of uncertainties that they readily acknowledge in their academic work. In the desire to speak out in public and translate their academic work into society, it is vital that oversimplification does not lead to misapprehensions that do real harm to real people.

 

 

Tied up in knots

Sheffield_Feb_19I have acquired a new role at work. It’s a more senior role but it carries with it a crushing workload. I’m a professor, and like many academics, I have a deep commitment to my work, my discipline and my Department. My Department has been through difficult times and it seemed the right thing from many perspectives to accept this role, but the consequent increase in my workload has been difficult to bear. I’m very efficient, have enormous stamina and manage with less sleep than I ought to get. In those respects, I’m very well suited to my new role. However, what I am struggling to cope with is a complete collapse of time to express my feminine self.

To anybody who doesn’t have gender dysphoria, this is probably very hard to understand. It goes far beyond the surrender of a leisure pursuit. I have very little time to play the guitar, for example, and when I eventually stop working I’m simply too tired to play. That’s a shame, and something I resolve to put right, for a number of reasons: music is a fabulous form of relaxation, because to play an intrument requires immersion in the notes to be played and their translation into the actions of hands and fingers – which of necessity excludes all thoughts of the day’s other activities; and because it brings an emotional catharsis – a connection with deep-rooted feelings that are suppressed during the working day.

But the denial of opportunities to connect with my feminine self goes very much deeper. The way that I picture myself is like a ball of wool, knotted and tangled; everyday life is a deep-seated struggle to reconcile the external masculine presentation of my self with an inner sense of femininity that seems incommensurate with the expectations of all those around me. Days away from my masculine role have an importance that goes beyond taking a day off, or the pleasure of indulging a favourite pastime; they provide opportunities to untangle the knots, and bring a sense of inner harmony that for most of the time is absent.

Missing these days brings a darkness that is difficult to deal with. For the past few months, opportunities to be myself, unfettered, have been so limited that it has driven me back to a place that I thought I had escaped from some years ago. Last May I wrote about the experience of internalised transphobia – a state of mind in which one starts to despise oneself for being trans. In all the years that I tried to “cure” myself of being trans, it was this inward-looking attitude, seeking blame in myself for what was entirely outwith my control, that was the most destructive. To deal with the incapacity to be myself, I am distressed to find that a mechanism has been triggered – uncopnsciously – that causes me to despise femininity and the desire to be feminine.

Recently I have had a number of opportunities to be my feminine self again. It has been a shock to discover how unsettling this has been. An opportunity is identified; plans are made. But as the time draws near, my conscious brain is beset by familiar and unwantedf thoughts: do you really need to do this? why not spend the evening at home with a glass of wine? why is a successful, middle-aged, middle-class man  desperate to go out looking like a woman? For a few hours I’m all at sea. The accusations point inward from myself. And yet, deep down, I know who I am. It is as though a demon sits on my shoulder screaming accusations. Until the moment the first dab of make-up is applied I am in turmoil.

But once I surrender to the process, it is as though fresh air is wafting through a stuffy room; on a humid summer night, the windows are thrown open and the cool crispness sweeps away the stuffiness. Looking into the mirror, an unfamiliar feminine face returns my gaze. She looks at the same time familiar and yet strange. She is me and she is not me; she is female and yet she is trans and underneath it all masculine. For a moment the demon whispers words wreathed in smoke. But before I know it, I’m on the bus; in the restaurant; eating dinner. I’m me. All is well with the world. I feel the knots untangling; the tightly coiled, interwoven strands of consciousness soften and separate; like a woman brushing her hair, I shake the fibres of my self and they blow free in the cool evening air.

The Deeply Dishonorable Japanese Government

Kim Bok-dong was one of the South Korean “comfort women” taken as sex slaves and repeatedly raped and sexually abused (despite being only 14) by the Japanese Army. This brave and determined woman has died, sadly, at the age of 92 after many years of campaigning for the Japanese Government to apologise for the serial rape and paedophilia practised by its army. The Japanese have a really messed up notion of honour, which prevents them from ever apologising. So messed up is this notion that the Japanese Goverment is unable to apologise for the systematic rape and sexual abuse practised by its soldiers – rape and sexual abuse not only sanctioned by the Japanese Government but orchestrated by it. Shame on them. When your concept of honour leaves you incapable of recognising and apologising for evil, it has become a deeply dishonorable thing.

https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-47042684

 

Transgender Prisoners

The case of Karen White has been the subject of bitter controversy in recent months. White is a convicted sex offender who identified as trans and was incarcerated in a women’s prison. White committed four sexual assaults while a prisoner. Campaigning feminist groups have seized upon White’s case as an embodiment of the challenge to women’s rights that thy argue is presented by self-identification. Trans activists claim that White had a previous history of sexual offending and thus, according to the Government’s own rules should never have been sent to a women’s prison.

The debate about gender identity seems to be driven by strong feelings, but “facts” are seized upon and used by both sides. In the spirit of “More or Less”, I wanted to examine some statistical aspects of transgender prisoners.

“48% of Trans Prisoners are Sex Offenders”

This extraordinary statistic was placed into the public domain by campaigning group Fair Play for Women, following a freedom of information request to the UK Government. To be precise, in the year to March 2017, 60 out of 125 transgender prisoners known to the Ministry of Justice are sex offenders. The BBC Fact Check web page offered a few thoughts on the statistic. First, the figure does not include any prisoners with a Gender Recognition Certificate (GRC), because they would be recorded as female prisoners. Second, the data only relate to prisoners serving longer sentences (ie. convicted of serious offences) – there are no statistics for the broader prison population. The BBC Fact Check web page suggested that the proportion might well be much reduced if those serving shorter sentences (ie. deemed to have committed less serious offences) were included in the figures.

This provoked a significant amount of bile from right-wing reactionary journalists like Andrew Gilligan, who accused the BBC of collaborating with transgender activists to promote their agenda. However, it’s a matter of fact (not opinion – although in UK newspapers the distinction appears often to be lost on journalists) that sex offences are by definition serious and thus tend to carry longer sentences. If we add to the total number of serious crimes the (much larger) total number of minor crimes, the numerator will remain the same but the denominator will be much increased.

The 48% figure is clearly a powerful rhetorical tool. It achieves two results at once: first it dramatises the debate about dealing with transgender prisoners; and second, it plays to a popular trope among many of those who have lined up against trans activists – that to be trans is by definition to be some sort of pervert.

Sex offenders make up 17% of the wider prison population (ie. including all types of crime). I must admit that I found this to be an alarmingly large figure. Bearing in mind that 48% was the percentage of serious criminals identified as trans who were also sex offenders, and the fact that crimes such as theft (2,009,697 offences in the year to March 2018 according to the UK’s Office of National Statistics) greatly outnumber sexual offences (150,732 in the same period), it may well be the case (although I have no hard data to test the hypothesis) that the number of trans prisoners who are sex offenders is no greater than 17% when the whole prison population is considered.

Of the 125 sex trans prisoners in 2017, only 22 were MTF prisoners who were accommodated in female prisons according to Fair Play for Women (25 according to the Independent). It is not clear from the ONS data, which were the source of information cited by Fair Play for Women, whether any of these prisoners were sex offenders.

In summary, it is not at all clear what significance we can draw from this statistic. The most that we can reasonably say is that sex offenders represent a somewhat high fraction of the prison population, and it seems that transgender prisoners are not significantly different from other prisoners in this regard. The use of these statistics by Fair Play for Women contributes nothing meaningful to the debate – it is a rhetorical device.

“This is about the feelings of male-bodied people”

According to the Guardian, Labour anti-trans activist Pilgrim Tucker says: “Almost half of trans women prisoners are sex offenders. We urgently need to start prioritising the safeguarding of women and girls over the feelings of male-bodied people.” As demonstrated above, the 48% figure is much less meaningful than it seems to be at first sight, and there are, moreover, no publicly available data that support the claim that trans sex offenders are normally accommodated in women’s prisons; on the prison service’s own admission, Karen White should never have been incarcerated in a women’s prison in the first place and represents a tragic anomaly. However, for many feminist critics the issue boils down to a simple conflict between the protection of women and, as Tucker puts it, “the feelings of male-bodied people”.

For trans prisoners there is in fact a great deal more at stake than hurt feelings. The United States Department of Justice (DOJ) has published detailed statistical information on a variety of aspects of the lives of prisoners, including rates of sexual victimisation. For the year 2011-12, 4.0% of prison inmates and 3.2% of jail inmates reported experiencing one or more incidents of sexual victimization. In the same year, the corresponding figures were 34.6% and 34.0% respectively for transgender prisoners. Thus the mean figure for transgender prisoners is approximately an order of magnitude greater than that for the prison population as a whole. Prisons are dangerous places, but they are disproportionately dangerous for transgender prisoners.

These data indicate that the problem here is not merely “the feelings of male-bodied people”: there is a real risk of serious harm. This is not to say that there is necessarily an argument for accommodating trans prisoners in women’s prisons; however the high risk of harm to transgender prisoners needs to be dealt with appropriately in the prison system.

Prison is a poor place to look for answers to complex societal problems

In the US DOJ reports referred to above, the rates of inmate-on-inmate sexual incidents were 1.7 and 7.2 % for male and female prisons, respectively. Thus it is clear that in all-female prison environments women are capable of exhibiting high rates of sexual violence. There are a great many things that one could infer from these data, but most important of all, they must surely suggest that prison is a rather unusual place where normal presuppositions about human behaviour may no longer apply.

The case of Karen White does not prove that transgendered people represent a specific threat to women, but it does show that a sex offender may make a pretense of transition in order to obtain access to women for the purpose of committing further offenses. The prison system plainly needs an effective means to deal with the threat posed by a sexual predator who “transitions” in order to access women prisoners. However, the US DOJ data also show that there are real and substantial risks to transgender prisoners. A solution is required for prisons that allows both of these concerns to be addressed.