I see the flag-shaggers are out in force. No, not working-class people who hang the Union flag from their living-room window as an expression of pride in their nation. I’m talking about the Pride flag. That omnipresent rainbow eyesore. A virtue-signal made cloth. The flag no one can escape. Yep, it’s Pride Month, which means that everywhere you go for the next four weeks – the bank, the supermarket, Maccy D’s – you’ll have this flag waved in your face to remind you not to be such a horrible, homophobic piece of shit. Happy Pride Month!
Promiti Islam on queerness, Bengali-American identity, and the complexities of family acceptance…
In a majority of U.S. states, bills aiming to restrict who can compete in women’s sports at public institutions have either been signed into law or are working their way through state legislatures.
Caught up in this political point-scoring are real people – both trans athletes who want to participate in competitive sports and those competing against them.
As a professor of ethics and public policy, I spend much of my time thinking about the role of the law in protecting the rights of individuals, especially when the rights of some people appear to conflict with the rights of others.
How to accommodate transgender athletes in competitive sports – or whether they should be accommodated at all – has become one of these conflicts.
On one side are transgender athletes who want to compete in the gender division with which they identify. On the other are political activists and athletes – especially biologically female athletes – who believe that allowing trans athletes to compete in women’s divisions is inherently unfair.
So why is this issue so fraught? What’s so special about women’s sports? Why do women’s divisions even exist? And is it possible to protect women’s sports while still finding a way to allow transgender athletes to compete in a meaningful way?