The New Thoughtcrime: An Interview

One of the must-read resources for young people ensnared in trans communities is the anonymous blog, newthoughtcrime, which explores the ways trans communities can restrict individual freedom of thought. I spoke to its creator about how her own experiences in the trans community shaped her coming-of-age years and inspired her to create a resource for young women like her. 

Q: Could you tell us about your background and how you became involved in online trans communities as a kid? 

A: I started having gender-related issues when I was still in primary school. Though I had no idea I would grow up to be a lesbian, I had always had a strong sense that something about me was “different.” Approaching puberty, I was highly distressed by the idea that I was supposed to be interested in boys. At the same time, I had recently gone through a trauma which left me with severe PTSD, panic attacks, and agoraphobia at 10 years old. Being unable to go to school or socialise with other children, I turned to the internet, and started spending a lot of time on Tumblr. 

In 2007, at 11 years old, I was already dealing with gender dysphoria which manifested, I think, because of my emerging sexual orientation and the severe disconnect I felt towards my body due to trauma. In 2023, a child like this would go online and instantly be affirmed as trans. Back then, my only understanding of trans people was of male-to-female transsexuals like Nadia Almada, who had won Big Brother in 2004: I had no access to the knowledge that I could be transgender, but regardless, I knew that I wanted to become a boy. By the time the trans wave hit Tumblr around 2010, I had already viewed myself as “not a (real) girl” for several years, so I naturally adopted the framework of trans identity when it was presented to me, and I intended to transition medically when I was old enough. 

I started questioning trans ideology when I was 18, and decided against transitioning until I had figured things out. I continued to identify as trans until I was 20 years old.

Q: What pushed you to create newthoughtcrime? 

A: When I first decided to write an essay about coercive dynamics within the queer/trans community, I was aiming to create a resource for lesbians dealing with cotton-ceiling rhetoric (pressure on lesbians to accept biological males as potential sexual partners if those males identify as lesbians). My logic was that, when I had been a newly-out teenager dealing with sexual coercion from a trans woman in my life, the thing I needed and wanted the most was for someone – anyone! – to tell me that it was okay to be homosexual and explain to me exactly why it was wrong for this person to pressure me.

However, when I sat down to write this essay, I realised that it was impossible to describe the sexually coercive dynamics within the trans community without first covering the general coercive dynamics within the trans community. It was hard to explain to young lesbians — and that includes exclusively same-sex attracted female people who may identify instead as trans, nonbinary, or otherwise not as a lesbian — why they don’t have to have sex with male people. That’s because I first had to cover the fact that it was okay to have independent thoughts, to disagree with people who are considered above you in a hierarchy, to live your life on your own terms instead of following a set of imposed rules. I realised that female people are vulnerable to sexual predation in these circles because they’re in a cult, and that that issue would have to be addressed before anything else. 

Q: Based on your own experience in these communities and your observations since leaving, how could someone determine whether they were under the influence of a manipulative group? What does that experience feel like? What distinguishes a healthy group from an unhealthy group? 

A: When it comes to being in a manipulative group, I think some signs manifest as emotional responses. For me, the biggest sign that I was in a manipulative group was that I sincerely believed that I had to control my own thoughts because other people could read them. I was not allowed to think about certain things, in case other people found out. I also experienced a sort of brain fog when trying to work through a train of thought: once you encounter a ‘forbidden’ path in your mind, you can’t explore any further without shutting the whole thing down. As well, there’s the complete and total lack of trust in oneself — the belief that you will always do and say the wrong thing unless you repeat exactly what you’ve been told, because there is some kind of inherent evil inside you which will escape and hurt others the moment you even think about breaking the rules. But then, these could be extreme examples which come from being indoctrinated by a fairly extreme group. 

More practically, there are some questions people can ask themselves. Things like: am I allowed to disagree with my peers, or will I be reprimanded? Is everyone in the group considered an equal, or are some people punished for behaviours which higher-ranking members get away with? If abuse — especially sexual abuse — occurs, will it be taken seriously? Would I feel safe if I decided to leave the group? Is the group requesting money beyond a reasonable amount of funding? Do I think of myself as a good person, and is that opinion influenced by how well I obey the group?

Q: One of the resources you draw on is Robert Jay Lifton’s work on thought reform and the psychology of totalism. How did you come across Lifton’s work and what resonated with you? 

A: I first encountered Lifton’s work on gender-critical Tumblr, where another user had written a series of posts analysing Lifton’s criteria for thought reform and applying them to trans ideology. This was of course a life-changing read for me, and started me down a path of research which completely altered the way I viewed what had happened to me while I was trans-identified.

In particular, I appreciate Lifton’s coining the phrase “thought reform” — I think it stands out as somewhat more accurate than the similar terms ‘brainwashing’, ‘mind control’ and ‘undue influence.’ As well, I think it’s crucial to note that Lifton’s work was based on researching political prisoners, rather than cult members. To me, this exemplifies the simple truth that thought reform techniques are essentially the same across the board, from Chinese prison camps to cults to abusive relationships. As well, the fact that I related so strongly to some of the psychological abuse committed against political prisoners of all people finally allowed me to acknowledge the extent of the harm that had been done to me and others.

Q: One of the (many) things I’ve found so useful about Lifton’s work is that it provides a way to talk about coercive dynamics in online trans communities without getting stuck on the question of “is it technically a cult or not?” But it’s still an interesting question and I’m curious how you think about the question of whether trans communities can be meaningfully understood as a cult or cult-like? 

A: On one hand, I understand that a lot of people feel hesitant to use the word “cult” to describe anything other than a group of people who live on a compound, practise a religion, and are controlled by a singular leader. On the other hand, I think that cults have evolved alongside technology and societal norms. In particular, I think there’s a tendency to doubt that cults can recruit people primarily online, or even that interaction with a cult could be entirely online but still have a severe impact on a person’s wellbeing. But our current understanding of manipulative extremist groups shows that they often use the Internet to target vulnerable people in a way that would not be possible if limited to in-person encounters, as evidenced by the incel movement, QAnon, ISIS, and so on.  

I think another reason people are reluctant to use the word “cult” is that the trans community essentially isn’t “bad enough.” I think some people are uncomfortable with the idea that a formerly trans-identified person would claim to be a cult survivor, and thus compare themselves to people who escaped horrific, violent cults like the People’s Temple or Children of God. But in my view, the reality is that you don’t have to be in the worst cult to have been in a cult. And even then, I have to question whether the trans community can really be considered so harmless, when people are being indoctrinated as children and leaving with fewer body parts than they started with.

Q: Something you’ve said before that’s stuck with me is that people who leave cults are encouraged to distance themselves from the language, patterns of thinking, and other forms of coercive control that a manipulative group exercised over them, but that for people who desist or detransition from trans identities, it’s impossible to fully leave trans behind. Would you say more about that? 

A: Let me give some examples from my own life: My girlfriend and I go to Pride, and see a sign outside stating ‘No TERFS! Protect trans kids!’ I feel like playing The Sims 4, and open the game to find that top-surgery scars have been added for your characters to wear like an accessory. I go to my aunt’s bachelorette party and another guest asks me for my pronouns. Virtually everyone I know has a person in their life — usually a younger family member in their teens or 20s — who is transitioning now. The progress flag, which features the trans pride flag, is on the window of my local bank. I go to Lush and the employees wear pronoun pins. I go to Starbucks and they’re selling cookies in partnership with Mermaids. I try to research a female health condition and find an article where women are called ‘uterus owners.’ I open YouTube and am immediately shown someone’s transition-timeline video. I join a lesbian social group and some of the members are biological males. 

All of these instances reinforce the ideology, and some of them, like being asked my pronouns, require me to actively participate in a ritual which serves to uphold the beliefs that harmed me. As you said, ex-cult members are encouraged to eschew cult language and thinking because they need to focus on grounding themselves in reality — but how can I do that, when declining to offer my pronouns or socialise with lesbian-identified males could lead to social ostracisation? What should I do when accessing reality is rude at best, and a hate crime at worst?

I also constantly encounter the idea that being a good person means being a trans ally. Unless I am a bigot, I should unequivocally support the group that caused me so much pain. This is hard to deal with after leaving a cult which explicitly manipulates members into believing that they are bad people, and that that badness is why they need to stay in the group and be controlled. 

Q: It’s been six years since you launched newthoughtcrime. Looking back, what’s your sense of how the trans community has evolved over time?

A: Looking at the trans community in 2023, I see a laser-focus on paediatric transitioners which wasn’t there before. When I was trans-identified as a minor, I had absolutely no clue that I was able to transition before the age of 18 — I didn’t know that paediatric medical transition existed, and certainly never felt that I was expected to support it. When I first became gender critical, it was a given that informing any given left-leaning person about the existence of paediatric transition would be absolutely shocking for them. Now it seems that every random ally is fully informed about, and inexplicably supportive of, children as young as infants transitioning socially, and children as young as nine or 10 transitioning medically. I don’t recall hearing the phrase “trans kids” during my teenage years. Now it’s at the forefront of the entire movement.

Sometimes, when I think about the essay I wrote as a freshly-reidentified 20-year-old, I can see places where it’s out of date. There are ways in which the landscape has changed dramatically since 2017. The statistics I debunked are no longer used on social media or in journalism. I wrote about trans women being convicted of violent crimes as if it was revolutionary — but now it’s public knowledge that male convicted rapists are being placed in female prisons. I also addressed the fact that, at the time, trans activists were still frequently claiming that detransition was a complete myth. Since then, the narrative has shifted to something along the lines of “yes, people detransition, but does it really matter?” 

Back then, the average person had absolutely no reason (that they knew of) to have a problem with trans ideology. Now, the backlash we’re seeing is intense. In response, the trans community has closed ranks by demanding even greater displays of loyalty and compliance from female people, as well as escalating violence against non-compliant women. I worry that most of the women who had the means to escape — like me — have already managed to do so, and that the women remaining are the most vulnerable of us. Having been out of this cult for eight years, I can hardly imagine what these women are going through and the conditions they’re facing now. I only hope that someone or something will get through to them eventually.