Mick Hartley

Titania McGrath (aka Andrew Doyle) grapples with the big question that everyone's asking – what is a woman? Don’t trust the myths of biology:

Scientists and intellectuals have long struggled to determine what a “woman” might be. This mysterious concept has evaded the sharpest of minds through human history. It is very much the holy grail of metaphysics, a will-o’-the-wisp dancing on the ever-receding horizon of knowledge.

So when Boris Johnson claims he knows what a “woman” is, and that they ought to have “single-sex spaces” and their own categories in sports, we should treat his comments with the derision they deserve. When Keir Starmer was asked if a woman could have a penis during an interview by Nick Ferrari on LBC, the Labour leader’s response was far more incisive and dignified: “Uh, Nick, I’m not, er, I, I don’t think we can conduct this debate with, you know, I get this, uh.” This just goes to show that only a Labour government will be able to bring clarity to this issue….

Anyone who asks the question “what is a woman?” is thereby revealing that they have the intelligence of your average garden slug. This is why we shouldn’t trust these so-called “archaeologists” who claim to be able to determine whether those ancient skeletons they’ve uncovered are “male” or “female”. This is pure pseudo-science. Next they’ll be telling us they can work out their pronouns by measuring the femurs.

Let me settle this matter once and for all. A woman is anyone who says she is a woman. A woman is a feeling, a shimmering nimbus of possibility, an echo of distant dreams reverberating gingerly through a winter’s gloaming. She is a mewling constellation, a bagful of semi-felched pixies, the enchanted stardust that pirouettes luminously on the spindle of time.

It’s got absolutely nothing to do with tits.