To begin with a confession, I have spent far too long contemplating what to write about as my first post, due in no small part to sharing fellow Guest Duck Tom‘s nerves about joining such formidable paddling of regular Ducks. However, Wendy‘s post on human rights having gone mainstream and no longer being revolutionary has given me exactly the push I needed to get started.
Specifically, I want to explore Wendy’s argument in relation to claims for LGBT rights. My aim is not to counter Wendy’s argument, which I find persuasive, but rather to use it as a starting point for thinking through the implications of becoming mainstream and, in particular, consider the potential downsides of becoming “accepted and discussed” – what is lost when one’s claims cease to be revolutionary and/or “subversive”?
Before going any further, however, it’s worth noting that the idea of LGBT rights, or, more accurately, recognising LGBT people’s human rights, is still most definitely revolutionary and subversive in many parts of the world: homosexuality is still criminalised in 77 countries and political homophobia is evident in many countries – including perhaps most infamously Uganda and Russia. So, even though 20 countries have legalised same-sex marriage, the UN has thrown its weight behind the slogan that “LGBT rights are human rights”, and a small group of Western actors, including the US and EU have designated protection of LGBT rights a foreign policy issue, on a global level it would be more than a little premature to say that LGBT rights have become mainstream. Indeed, despite the UN’s supportive statements, there’s no mention of LGBT rights in the draft of UN’s Sustainable Development Goals to date and many major development donors still do not have any formal policy or strategy that explicitly includes LGBT people. And that’s before we take into account that legislation and declarations do not necessarily translate into LGBT-friendly societies and organisations, as the results of the EU Agency for Fundamental Rights’ LGBT Survey amongst many other surveys and reports demonstrate.
That said, at least in the case of Western states and Western-led institutions , it seems entirely reasonable to talk about LGBT rights having gone mainstream as a human rights issue, and I couldn’t agree more that there’s nothing revolutionary about it. Where I diverge from Wendy, however, is on her conclusion that this is a good thing.
The term “LGBT rights” is used to refer to a whole gamut of rights, ranging the “right” not to be killed or beaten because of one’s choice of intimate partner and/or one’s gender identity, to the right to marry and the same partnership rights and family rights as heterosexual couples. At issue here is not the various rights claims that are made, but rather the nature of socio-political change that is being sought. In inevitably overly simplistic terms, there’s a choice to be made between assimilation and emancipation/liberation.
Assimilation envisages a future where LGBT people are treated as “normal” people who are just like everyone else. On the face of it, this would appear to be an entirely sensible and desirable goal that it’s difficult to dispute – at least if one is pro-LGBT rights. But let me try phrasing it differently: assimilation envisages a future where LGBT people enjoy the same rights and privileges afforded to people who are just like them in every respect except the gender of their intimate partner. In this case, it becomes evident that other vectors of privilege and marginalisation operating in relation to class and socio-economic status, race, religion, and gender normativity (amongst others) remain undisturbed and unchallenged, or put more graphically, “the gay quarterback gets to be the homecoming king, but the freshman who likes wearing make-up and listening to showtunes is still a f-g–t“.
For the mainstream LGBT rights movement, rights claims have been advanced under a dual banner resting “just like you” and “born this way“. The aim of “just like you” is to humanise LGBT people and challenge the notion that they are somehow fundamentally different from heterosexual and cisgender people, while “born this way” functions to portray one’s sexual orientation and/or gender identity as an innate aspect of one’s identity that is not chosen. In combination, these two lines of argument facilitate a shift from thinking about sex (awkward and embarassing, potentially threatening) to thinking about love (warm and fuzzy, far less threatening), as illustrated by many of the statements and slogans used in relation to gay marriage in the US and Ireland this year: in the run-up to the Irish referendum, proponents argued that voting for gay marriage “isn’t about religion or parenting. It’s just about love“, and the outcome was quickly hailed as a “Victory for love and equality“, while the hashtag #LoveWins once again proliferated on Twitter after the US Supreme Court’s ruling a month later and President Obama proclaimed that “Love is Love“. Even when gay marriage is not the specific goal, love remains the central concept. Amongst other examples see Human Rights Campaign’s “Love Conquers Hate” in response to Russia’s anti-gay laws, Singapore’s Pink Dot “Supporting the Freedom to Love“, and Amnesty International’s assertion that “Love is a Right, Hate is a Crime“. Not a single mention of anything sexual, despite the fact that to all intents and purposes, we’re talking about sexual rights.
As a strategy for advancing rights claims, it’s undeniably been very effective and has led to tangible improvements in the lives of many LGBT people, not only in the form of the right to marry, but also (depending on the state) the decriminalisation of consensual sex, the depathologisation of homosexuality, equalisation of the age of consent, greater protection from discrimination on the grounds of sexual orientation and gender identity, and the right to serve in the military. It would be remiss of me not to note here that recognition of trans people’s rights lags behind the progress seen by lesbians and gays quite significantly, with being trans still frequently viewed as an illness and trans people often being particularly vulnerable to marginalisation and violence, as the horrific statistics from the Trans Murder Monitoring Project show all too clearly. As for intersex rights, there’s even further to go, although the last few years has seen some important developments.
So what’s the problem? Even if we’re not yet in a world of rainbows and unicorns, there’s been significant progress legally and societally, with gays and lesbians more accepted than ever in many places, and, going on progress so far, LGBT equality is just a matter of time, surely? That’s certainly the optimistic conclusion. Except there’s nothing inevitable about equality for lesbian and gay people. And, even if there were, with the assimilationist “just like you” framing, it would only be for the “right” LGBT people – the ones who fit in with current societal norms of behaviour, gender, and relationship arrangements. The price of love for LGBT people, it seems, is homonormativity – a word coined by Lisa Duggan in her essay “The New Homonormativity: The Sexual Politics of Neoliberalism” (part of the edited volume Materializing Democracy) to describe
…a politics that does not contest dominant heteronormative assumptions and institutions but upholds and sustains them while promising the possibility of a demobilized gay constituency and a privatized, depoliticized gay culture anchored in domesticity and consumption (Duggan 2002: 179)
Looked at this way, far from being revolutionary, at the systemic level the homonormativity of LGBT rights claims makes them reactionary as they end up supporting and perpetuating current societal and political structures and dynamics of privilege and marginalisation. At the individual level, this creates the risk that respectable “good gay citizens” may happily consume the human rights that have been gained, but neglect to advocate for those under the LGBT unbrella who are not “like them” – the “bad queers” who do not conform with dominant societal norms and are thus deemed disreputable and less worthy of rights.
Gay marriage is a case in point. Already a “middle-class luxury item” for many heterosexual couples, the extension of marriage rights is great financial news for those in the wedding business and, obviously, for those couples who want to get married but previously couldn’t (and I am categorically not looking to deny people this right or their enjoyment of of it). But what of those who cannot or do not wish to participate in this privileged institution? What of the single and those in polyamorous relationships? What of those people, gay, straight or queer, who view marriage as a patriarchal institution that needs abolishing rather than expanding? These people now find themselves a little bit further away from meeting society’s norms and a little bit more affected by cultural biases against them (not to mention the potential loss of currently available partner benefits if they don’t “opt in” to marriage). Via its expansion to same-sex couples, marriage has strengthened its claim to being the “gold standard” against which all other relationships are measured.
Such consequences, even if unintended, are starkly at odds with the goals of liberation and emancipation that groups such as the Gay Liberation Front and the Gay Activists’ Alliance espoused in the 1960s and 1970s before the framing of LGBT rights as identity-based human rights began to take shape. Long time activist Peter Tatchell, an activist with the Gay Liberation Front recalls:
…we shared a radical idealism – a dream of what the world could and should be – free from not just homophobia but the whole sex-shame culture, which oppressed straights as much as LGBTs. We were sexual liberationists and social revolutionaries, out to turn the world upside down.
GLF espoused a nonviolent revolution in cultural values and attitudes. It questioned marriage, the nuclear family, monogamy and patriarchy – as well as the wars in Vietnam and Ireland. Although against homophobic discrimination, GLF’s main aim was never equality within the status quo. We saw society as fundamentally unjust and sought to change it, to end the oppression of LGBTs – and of everyone else.
GLF aligned itself with the movements for women’s, black, Irish, working-class and colonial freedom. We marched for troops out of Ireland and against the anti-union Industrial Relations Act. Although critical of the “straight left” and often condemned by them, most of us saw ourselves as part of the broad anti-capitalist, anti-imperialist movement, striving for the emancipation of all humankind.
The loss of this wider political consciousness and recognition of the importance of solidarity with those who, while not “like you”, also experience marginalisation and discrimination is, I think, something to mourn. Yes, it was idealistic, utopian, even unrealistic, as well as messy, fractious and chaotic. At the same time – and at the risk of being accused of romanticising the past – there was explicit recognition that individual liberation is dependent on everyone’s liberation.
Marriage equality, meanwhile, will never set us free. If this is what becoming mainstream means in practice, then beyond a veneer of acceptability and discussion, we’ve lost far more than we’ve gained as the normativities proliferate around us. Revolutionary thinking that names inequalities, interrogates their intersections and which challenges us to unlearn normal is needed more than ever.
Thanks, that was very thoughtful. As one who has long agreed that “marriage is a patriarchal institution that needs abolishing rather than expanding,” I still don’t follow you in your argument. Partly I think one has to be self-critical: it turned out that, rather than the admirable ideals espoused in your post, there was a deep, deep yearning among many for a symbolic recognition by society at large. Does this perhaps say something about the superficiality or, at least, irrelevance of much revolutionary rhetoric? My sense is, if we’re being honest, it does. Indeed, it may be more courageous to recognize that this revolutionary rhetoric resonates much less for many/most than do more reformist realities. Perhaps I need to recognize that, rather than stick to my rejection of marriage?
The reformism you critique, I agree, would still be problematic to me despite its popularity if I didn’t also question your assertion that:
“The loss of this wider political consciousness and recognition of the importance of solidarity with those who, while not “like you”, also experience marginalisation and discrimination is, I think, something to mourn.”
I don’t see the evidence for this. To the contrary, what we see around us is that as rights for gays and lesbians are mainstreamed, attention is being paid to other groups that remain more marginalized: queers of color, trans, and, more generally, ideas of sexuality and gender being fluid. If I’m right in that (and probably it is arguable), then I think it puts the lie to a notion that solidarity has been put to the side. So long as such things as the right to marry continue to be part of a broader movement toward more inclusivity, then I’m good with it.
Thanks, Anthony. Good questions.
On the superficiality and/or irrelevance of much revolutionary rhetoric, I agree that it’s easy to dismiss people’s desire for societal recognition and to participate in society and that it’s important to recognise this, although I wouldn’t go so far as to describe it as “more courageous”. But I don’t think it’s an either/or situation. Rather, I think it means that we need to think beyond calls for the abolition of marriage and imagine alternatives that can be both emancipatory and fulfil people’s desire (need?) for recognition by society. It may be that, like democracy, marriage is the “least worst” option, although in both cases there’s a lot of room for redefinition. (Thinking aloud here, but if a minimalist definition of democracy is the holding of regular and competitive elections, then could marriage be defined as a publicly recognised and voluntary declaration of mutual commitment by adults?)
As for the loss on solidarity that I perceive, certainly there is more attention being paid to the other letters that come under the LGBTQIA umbrella in the media as the G and L become mainstream. However, I’m very cautious about interpreting it as an indication that solidarity is alive and well. Certainly as soon as I venture beyond my usual social circles and queer-friendly sources of information and debate (my own personal echo chamber, in many ways), discussions about queers of colour, trans and genderfluidity are woefully thin on the ground, and those that do feature tend to position these groups/individuals as something novel and exotic.
A small number of high profile trans and genderfluid people being featured in the media does not mean that there’s solidarity. Specifically, as C.N. Lester has argued (https://cnlester.wordpress.com/2015/07/05/genderfluid-is-the-new-black-on-the-medias-non-binary-moment/) discussion of genderfluidity (and the point is salient for coverage of trans identities as well) is generally incredibly one-dimensional, uncomplicated and cisnormative. The complexities of race, class, disability, economic status generally go unremarked upon, and the celebration of transgender people such as Caitlyn Jenner is contingent on their conformity with societal norms for the gender performance in question, and the better the performance, the greater the approval (see Aydain Dowling for an example of how this works with masculinity: https://www.npr.org/2015/04/19/400826487/transgender-man-leads-mens-health-cover-model-contest).
In common with many other marked/stigmatised identities, on an everyday level the onus is still on genderqueer, trans and genderfluid people to “translate” (explain? justify?) their lives for “normal people” (and I include many gender-conforming lesbians and gays in this category) in order to be accepted, rather than being able to assume that they’ll be seen and accepted from the outset. Why? Because exactly as Micah notes (https://www.advocate.com/commentary/2015/07/22/op-ed-what-ruby-rose-obsession-misses-about-gender-fluid-lives), we’re a long way from BTQIA identities being widely known, let alone understood, and, many people still feel justified in outrightly rejecting people’s experiences of their gender/sexuality as I suspect any cisgender woman can tell you (my point being that this issue is not confined to LGBTQIA folk).
For many people, gay or straight, marriage equality is part of a broader movement towards inclusivity and, as you say, that’s a good thing on balance. But let’s not conflate terms. Inclusivity is not the same as emancipation, and more attention being paid to a previously even more marginalised group is not solidarity – there is a big difference between being invited to speak and politely listened to and being heard and having people become allies who are actively supportive of your aims even when it’s not to their immediate benefit.
Great, that’s so thoughtful — all points well taken.
Awesome post Cai. I loved your example of the gay quarterback being accepted but the ‘feminine’ male student still being out of place in a world that wants LGBT people to ‘be like us’. These are effective examples to get students to think about what queer really means and how queer activists and scholars (mostly) have been pushing for a rethinking of ‘just like us’ not inclusion into the category. The whole response to Caitlyn Jenner- including the ‘dividing line’ on when we ‘actually’ ‘met’ her fits with this too. Thanks!!
Great to see this post and I’m excited for more!
Marriage equality progress is very meaningful thing for many LGBT individuals and worth noting as moving the line in terms of what space is given to LGBT issues but it seems to me adding the Q to this conversation immediately complicates and interrogates the issues you bring up about the radical (or not) notions about LGBT rights. I’m constantly debating which letters to use and who I’m representing in that choice when I discuss LGBT/LGBTQ rights. “Queer” in my mind raises a resistance to the potential normalizing goals of the LGBT human rights norms seeking agenda and also can highlight some of the intersectional realities of who will actual be in of the appropriate class, race, sex, gender to actually enjoy these LGBT rights.
It seems revolutionary progress for many queers would require realizing there is not a gender binary to correct to and that to allow for the “opposite” of heteronormativity is not the radical change many are seeking or need in order to actually be safe in their own life and instead this is a messier, fluid conversation that shifts and unsettles categories used to define most things in politics, social life, etc.
There is indeed nothing inevitable when LGBT rights are talked about on the international stage and in fact it’s troubling to see so little funding for and attention to data about the reality of the lived experiences, violences in particular, of LGBTQ individuals around the globe when clearly these communities will experience backlash from human rights campaigns that are often packaged in a very Western narrative of freedom and equality, however well intentioned.