A Review of On Sex and Gender: A Commonsense Approach, by Doriane Lambelet Coleman
By Logician
The author of On Sex and Gender comes to the subject with a lawyer’s perspective. The issues she raises are current. The book begins with a description of the Equality Act, a bill in the United States Congress whose passage would have dramatic implications for how we deal with the distinction between male and female. In short, it would obliterate that distinction, at least in the realm of law. Instead, the word “sex” is to be used in such a broad way that it takes on an entirely different meaning.
The issue is no longer hypothetical. After the book was completed the Department of Education issued a ruling that incorporates all the same ideas, in a radical reinterpretation of the original Title IX law. The Department of Health and Human Services has done much the same for the medical arena.
The first part of the book is about the definition of “sex.” This discussion should not be necessary for any reader with common sense, but a lawyer has to prepare her case to defend against all possible attacks. As the author correctly says, sex in the usual sense of male/female is real and (sometimes) important. However, this is not the desired answer from progressive advocacy. A goal of this movement is to change both common usage and legal definitions of keywords like “sex” and “gender.” The legal part is well underway, though more often in the form of rules that reinterpret laws than in the laws themselves.
The middle part of the book is a long essay on the importance of the sex category. The author begins with the slogan “Sex Is Good” and goes on to talk about the many positive aspects of sex, from pleasure to aesthetics to the family. She also spends time on the negatives, from problems with caregiving norms to sexual and domestic violence. There is considerable overlap in point of view with the recent book Trouble with Gender, by Alex Byrne. It too concludes that sex should have an honorable place in the realm of human values.
While the discussion in this part is sensible, it seemed to be holding back, postponing the reckoning. The reader thinks: Will the last part of the book deal with the tough questions? Maybe by the final chapter?
The answer is yes and no. The basic intellectual clash is between the concepts of “sex” and the concept of “gender identity.” The author comes from a background in competitive sports, so it is no surprise that she is adamant in her defense of “sex.” But she is remarkably incurious about the nature of “gender identity.” This is particularly important because “transgender” is often (but not always) defined in terms of “gender identity.”
Before any discussion of these issues, there is another word that gets in the way: “gender.” For Coleman “gender” is “what cultures do with our two physical forms, the social connections that are based on our sex, and then how we conceive of and express ourselves.” (p. 239). (By the way, this is in contrast to Byrne, who prefers to think of gender as another name for sex.) Here Coleman is not completely consistent. She writes “whatever our gender (identity)—which runs the gamut from male to female to both to none—we all have one or the other (biological sex).” (p. 214). This suggests that a “gender” can also be a particular gender identity, which can possibly be a particular sex.
In her discussion of sex, the author makes a distinction between “sex-blind” and “sex-smart.” While at one time the idea of being “sex-blind” might have appealed to some feminists, it fails to recognize when sex makes a difference. She is willing to go part way to please her critics, writing “My approach [to competitive sports] is more complicated than the alternatives: ‘you’re in’ based on your gender identity or ‘you’re out’ based on your sex. But as long as the number of trans girls remains small, it should be easy to manage. How you define transgender is key here.” (p. 252)
While “sex” is a definite category, “gender identity” is many things, and the only way to analyze it is to examine how it is used in various contexts. Perhaps the most powerful notion is ontological: “innate gender identity” specifies who you really are, at least as far as sex is concerned. What is a “trans boy”? Well, it is a young female who is really male. Once it is named, it seems to exist. This notion is completely mystical, but the gender theorists force language to make it seem inevitable.
What else could it be? Words like “authentic self” and “inner sense of self” pass sneakily from the ontological to the psychological. So maybe one could think that “gender identity” is a psychological state, perhaps a mistaken belief about sex, or perhaps a strong discomfort (dysphoria) with a particular sex status. This could arise in a number of ways, including hormonal imbalance, social influence, trauma, or mental illness.
But that is not all. The author writes, “The word transgender may be new, but the experience it captures—including gender dysphoria, non-binary identities, and cross-dressing—are there in the historical record.” (p. 208). This suggests cultural behavior, which is very different from the model of innate gender identity.
It seems likely to the reviewer that in many cases “gender identity” is a structured belief system, much like a religion. In the name of religion, people shut themselves in monasteries and spend much of the day praying to the Virgin Mary. Failing to share their beliefs does not mean hating them or wanting to do them harm or desiring to erase them from existence. Perhaps the believers do no harm, except to themselves. But there was a time in history when similar beliefs, imposed by force and convention, had a dramatic impact on the daily life of practically everyone.
The religion analogy makes particular sense in the case of young people, perhaps in the age range of 15 to 25. Elements of the culture (including parts of the educational system) now insist that sex is fluid, that doubting someone’s self-conception of sex is bigoted, and that there is finally a path to discover your true self. To escape present misery, simply change sex. It is the resurrection, a completely fresh start, except that it takes place in this life. The problem is that to some this suggests STM (sex-trait modification). This often goes by the name of “gender-affirming care,” which makes it seem benign.
The author may not fully grasp the divide between “innate gender identity” and temporary psychological or social discomfort. She writes, “It is common sense that a child who experiences gender dysphoria in early childhood—who we know has never been able to reconcile what’s between their legs with who they understand themselves to be—should be supported, including medically if that makes sense for them, when we have the means to do so.” (p. 247). She goes on at some length, concluding with a reference to the Dutch model. Does a small child reliably distinguish between “innate gender identity” and sexual stereotypes? Can a child of any age meaningfully consent to procedures that will render them sterile in adulthood? One version of common sense would say no to both of these. See Stephen B. Levine, E. Abbruzzese and Julia W. Mason, Reconsidering Informed Consent for Trans-Identified Children, Adolescents, and Young Adults, Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy 2022, Vol. 48, no. 7, 70-727 for a discussion of consent and for a critique of the Dutch model.
Everyone should agree that “Parents should be fully and honestly educated about the risk-benefit calculus of treatments so that they can make good medical decisions with or for their children.” (p. 249). Where should they turn? To the book? According to the author, in certain circumstances “it seems equally problematic to assume that they do as that they don’t need blockers and cross-sex hormones.” (p. 248). This doesn’t help. It starts to look like a difficult medical decision, perhaps beyond the competence of parents to decide on the basis of common sense. What this misses is that the entire enterprise is as much driven by an implicit belief in “innate gender identity” as it is by objective scientific study. Some practitioners go by the slogan: Believe the kids. The kids believe what they learn on the internet.
When “gender identity” appears in legal situations it is particularly important to be clear about its definition and status. There is a spectacular error in the book, in which the author states, “In 2020, in a six-to-three decision in Bostok v. Clayton County, the Court held that an employer violates the Civil Rights Act of 1964 when it treats an employee differently because of their sexual orientation or gender identity.” (p. 209). In fact, the ruling only makes one reference to “gender identity,” and this is to say that this concept is not needed for the ruling.
The author is out of date in her discussion of legal attempts to define “conversion therapy” (p. 209). The old version of this was aimed at sexual orientation and has since been largely abandoned. The current choice is between STM (converting the body) and exploratory talk therapy (opening the mind). It is misleading to associate the latter with long-discredited practices. This is yet another example of the linguistic obfuscation which should be all too familiar to her by now.
The issues with the ambiguity of “gender identity” come to a head when the author treats privacy. She states, “The way I think about it is that I might have a momentary reaction when I see a transgender woman in a bathroom set aside for females, but I realize quickly that the person is transgender, and trust returns.” (p. 244). Such a strategy may be tested when a man with an unknown gender identity enters the bathroom.
The main point of the book, however, is the defense of the sex category. This is conducted brilliantly. The book is well-written, thoughtful, and leans over (perhaps to an almost comic extreme) to be balanced. It’s great on the role of sex in contemporary debates. Anyone who has been led to believe that the Equality Act and the recent Title IX rulings are a good thing should rush to find a copy of On Sex and Gender.
Genspect publishes a variety of authors with different perspectives. Any opinions expressed in this article are the author’s and do not necessarily reflect Genspect’s official position.