Mick Hartley

Jo Bartosch on the battle that Stonewall lost:

Today, LGBT charity Stonewall has the jaded air of a once popular 1970s DJ — despite a glamorous past, it is now regarded as slightly suspicious. On Sunday the group’s new chair, Iain Anderson momentarily revived hopes of a return to sense. In his first media appearance since being appointed, the former government LGBT business champion told viewers of Sunday with Laura Kuenssberg that he takes a “big tent” approach to divisive issues and was keen to meet with women’s groups. But he is too late — whilst it might have been largely absent from the pages of the Guardian, for the past four years a national debate about the impact of trans-inclusive policies has been raging. The government listened, and Stonewall lost.

Stonewall has never publicly discussed its decision to add the “T” to the LGB. Despite being propped up by the taxpayer, the charity blocked dissenting voices on social media, declining any broadcast appearances where opposing positions would be presented. Last year, chief executive Nancy Kelley went so far as to compare gender critical beliefs, i.e. that sex is real and that it matters, to antisemitism.

The “anyone who disagrees with me is a Nazi” tactic will be familiar to users of Twitter, but it is a less than edifying stance for an established charity. Arguably, the aversion to public debate and the smearing of opponents happens because Stonewall’s stance on “trans issues” balances on such a shaky premise. The “proof” that we each have an innate gender identity is apparently to be found in the minority of people who identify as trans, those who claim their feelings about “who they are” are at odds with who they are physically. The rest of us are expected to acknowledge that we all have gender identities that we are simply unaware of. 

Stonewall developed an infrastructure to spread these controversial ideas across workplaces, embedding them as “best practice” through the Diversity Champions scheme. Last year’s ruling protecting gender critical beliefs broke the omerta, allowing employees to ask questions and prompting many employers to withdraw their support. Considered in this context, smearing critical thinkers as extremists was a tactic designed to keep both the lid on debate and the coffers full. 

There is also an ideological driver for Stonewall’s debate-dodging approach. The charity’s stance is informed by Foucauldian ideas about language. To transgenderism’s true believers, words construct reality. Stonewall and its adherents hold that the phrase “I identify as” can magically change a man into a woman and vice versa. Indeed, language is considered so powerful that “misgendering”, (or “correctly sexing” as it might otherwise be described), can cause harm to an individual. As such, silencing and refusing to debate with those who might use hurtful words becomes a moral duty (though to date, no pronoun-related deaths have been recorded).

But is new boss Iain Anderson really interested in debate? He's already made it clear that "Stonewall will not invest time arguing with groups who are working to remove trans people’s rights or deny them their dignity." No change there, then. 

Anyway, it's too late. As Bartosch concludes:

The charity has scuppered the goodwill it once had. It is now a zombie organisation — in need of brains and reactively lurching about on social media. Stonewall lost the debate it was too scared to have.