Democracy 1

I hope, energy levels and enthusiasm permitting, to be doing some thinking aloud in this and succeeding posts, about four questions under the above heading (Democracy):

1. What should it be, ideally?
2. What can it be, practically?
3. What do we actually want from it?
4. What can it realistically deliver?

I shall probably be tromping, in my uninformed, amateurish way, over some much-trodden ground, and it's very possible that nothing new will emerge. On the other hand, there is only one me, as Neil Gaiman said, and maybe my size thirteens will uncover something that may lead a bolder and more competent venturer to a path nobody has noticed.

This has been prompted by a number of things, including recent events. Apart from those, I've noticed that people wax very eloquent on how they shouldn't always have to vote for the lesser of evils, while cheerfully acknowledging that democracy itself as we know it is the lesser of evils--"the worst system of government, apart from all the others," as Churchill is supposed to have said. It seems to me if we change the latter--if we make democracy work the way it should--then the former will resolve itself. I've also got quite excessively fed up with people who indulge themselves in endless studenty blue-sky waffle about new paradigms and new forms of politics and new systems to fit the future, when the political realities that we have to deal with, wealth, poverty, trade, war, diplomacy, have not qualitatively or essentially changed in thousands of years. We don't need politics to fit to our iPads, we need politics that will feed people and keep them relatively both free and safe, keep the water coming out of the taps as long as possible and make people proud of their governments, not ashamed of them.

This is just a statement of intent, because it's one o'clock and I'm going to bed; but when I start on this properly, I'll be thinking about what the fundamental purposes of government are, how to fulfil them in the most responsive and responsible way, and how to devise a democratic system that will be more proof against corruption than our current one. Feel free to chime in with ideas if you wish; if you wish to tell me that it can't be done, that there's no point because whoever you vote for the government always gets in ET BLOODY CETERA, or anything else pointlessly negative, please feel free to go rain on somebody else's parade. What I would like to end up with is a practical, short- to medium-term, and above all bloodless way to get from here to there, wherever there is; I doubt I'll achieve that, but a girl can try.

And so, goodnight, my lovelies. See you tomorrow.

On binaries, spectra and four-dimensional hyperwotses (transy stuff)

When I was technically a boy, I was vastly privileged. I didn't have to witness much racism, because in the town where I was born there were very few non-white people. (I also missed out on a lot of fascinating non-British cultural experience, but hey, that's what privilege does for you.)

It was there, of course. If you were careful with money you were being a Jew. There was the boy who thought it amusing to call me "Yid," presumably because of my colouring and the shape of my proboscis. And there was the young Nigerian maths teacher, whose accent, hilariously guyed by some of my classmates, became the basis of a private language which endured long after Mr Pinto had moved on. But these were mild instances, and I was still living mostly inside my head, so they didn't impact much on me.

What did, though, was a song (typical). It was by a group called Blue Mink, it was called "Melting Pot," and the chorus went:

What we need is a great big melting pot
Big enough to take the world and all it's got
Set it stirring for a hundred years or more
And turn out coffee-coloured people by the score.

I thought this was a terrible idea. Not (I think) because I didn't want to be a coffee-coloured person, but because I thought it was great that the male singer was white and the female singer was black. I liked the differences, and hated the thought of them all being ironed out and made into sameness, and because I hadn't encountered real racism, I didn't understand on a gut level why anyone would want to do that.

Fast forward many years. I now do understand why people want to eradicate "race" as a concept. Indeed, I understand that it has to some extent been eradicated, perhaps to be replaced by "ethnicity" and "cultural heritage," which is at least more accurate. For racists, of course, all this is so much hot air; they won't be rebranding themselves as "ethnicitists" or "culturists" any time soon. It's a minefield, this, and I'm not going to be spending too much time in it, because (as you'll maybe have guessed) I want to move on to another set of diversities that hits closer to my home...but our plurality of cultures, with all its differences, including admittedly some that cause us severe moral difficulties, is nonetheless a priceless treasure, and to lose it would be a tragedy. It is wrong, for instance, to beat and mutilate women and young girls, and cultural diversity is no excuse for that, but the solution is not to iron out all the differences and make us all (probably) American.

Anyway. The other set of differences that people want to iron out is of course gender. I've seen people advocating the abolition of gender binaries and all the "social constructs" that have resulted in oppression and exploitation of women, persecution of gay and trans people, and people who identify as non-binary or asexual being forced to pick one out of two or be ostracised because, you know, it's just too hard to know what pronoun to use. All these results are wrong and must be wiped out, but to get rid of the whole spectrum of "male/female/everything in between or outside" and make us all the same seems to me like blowing up the house because you don't like the wallpaper. Besides, as Oona said, if we did have to be all the same we'd probably all end up being closer to what used to be "male", simply because it's so much easier, and I would hate that.

I've had lots and lots of good wishes since I came out, and that's incredible and lovely, but I have to say this. Some people have said "I don't care what gender you are, I like you" or "it's what's inside that matters, not what's outside," or something similar. I'm glad to be liked, don't get me wrong, and I agree with the sentiment, except that...

I care what gender I am. That's why I did this. What's inside me is a definite gender, it's female, and that's becoming daily more and more important to me. I'll never swan about in a flowered dress and high heels (you're welcome) or do the other stereotypical girly things, probably (though I do think I cook rather well on my good days), but I feel inside me that there is more to being a woman than just that, more than cooing over babies or wearing make-up (again, a doomed endeavour for me, unless you start with dynamite). So when you say "I don't care if you're male or female, I like you anyway" it feels a bit like someone making the best of a less than ideal situation, as if I'd become a Satanist or joined the Army. I don't know if I'm making myself clear at all, and I really don't want anyone to feel slighted by this. I love each and every one of you, and I'm happy and grateful that you've accepted me for what I am. It's more than I had any right to expect, I know that. I hope that you won't mind my sharing my feelings like this.

No two trans people are alike, any more than any other two people are. The old days, when you lived your whole life in one of two rooms, or if you were very lucky were blindfolded, drugged, rushed down a dark corridor into the other room and locked in there, are, if not gone, at least on the way out. Gender is more than just a binary, as is ethnicity, as is culture; "us and them" is wrong in all these contexts. Gender is, maybe, more like a landscape; but it's not a flat featureless plain. There are landmarks, hills, valleys, rivers, bridges, and places where groups of people have chosen to settle, and I believe with all my heart that even when that landscape has been fully opened up to everyone, most people will still prefer to find a place where they are comfortable, call it home, and spend most of their lives in that place. Few will want to be gypsies (though some will) and nobody, I think, will want to be a displaced person with nowhere to call their own, to whom all places are the same and nowhere is special. I'm still standing here with my suitcase, looking out over the land, wondering where I'll settle; but wherever I do, it will be important to me that that is where I belong, and nowhere else.