I rarely write anything overtly particularly personal here — indeed, I’ve been going through a bout of writer’s block, so I’ve hardly written anything at all — , but I’ve been mulling over the concept of gender for a while and wanted to commit some thoughts to ‘paper.’
In our current era, I find myself increasingly wondering why I don’t put preferred pronouns in my email signature, Twitter bio, etc. Part of it, I think, has to do with my general unease with identity politics (another issue), but as I reflect on it a bit more, something else seems to be at work. A few months back, I was eating breakfast with a friend and we were discussing this very issue. In response to the implicit question of “what pronouns would you use/put?” I noted that I would use ‘it/its,’ adding the caveat that I don’t ask for that because such a request would seem as if I were mocking those who legitimately desire specific pronouns to help with their identi(ty)(fication).
But setting that concern aside, the next question was, “why use those pronouns? Why use impersonal pronouns that are, in theory, devoid of gender?” The answer to this question — or, more broadly speaking, the question of “what is your gender identity?” — has been occupying my mind of late and I’d like to share some thoughts. I share them not because I think I have anything particularly insightful to say, nor because I want to convince anyone of anything. Rather, I share them for two reasons. First, they’re thoughts I want to get off my chest; and Second, gender politics are ‘in’ right now, and being transparent with one’s identity seems to be important (if you sense ambivalence here, it will soon be explained).
Thus, to start I must begin by noting psycho-biographical facts: I was born male (both sexed and gendered) and have identified as such throughout my life. Truth be told, however, I don’t particularly care how someone identifies me. Were I referred to as “she” (something that has happened before when I sported longer hair), I might be confused for a second, but that’s simply because it hasn’t been my norm. For me, gender is a largely irrelevant signifier. I don’t feel any affinity towards a group when I note “M” or “MALE” on official forms, and I’ve started putting “OTHER” for precisely this reason. While I am, of course, a sexed and (en)gendered subject within our society, I don’t care for that. Indeed, as anyone that knows me will attest, I find the concept of a static subject (an identity) confusing at best and stifling at worst. As such, I active choose to ignore my own gender.
My ambivalence towards gender — that is to say, my view that it a) ought not matter (we’ll bracket medical issues) and b) I don’t care — , admittedly stems from a place of privilege. At least to a certain extent. I find this part the hardest to articulate, but as best I can, the story goes like this: I can afford to be ambivalent about (my) gender precisely because I pass for male in a masculine culture. I don’t have to worry about the precariousness of my identity because, for all intents and purposes, I am part of the dominant group. While I wouldn’t show particular affinity for the men of America, my existence and outward appearance tends to place me in that group and since I don’t particularly care about my gender, I don’t object. Again, I can only do this because of a certain level of privilege and thus, while I would say that gender ought to be largely irrelevant, I would not say that people ought not self-define as I know for some, defining oneself is important.
While I can only speculate, were I born female (both sexed and gendered), I suspect my attitudes would be the same but I would also be more keenly aware of power differentials latent in my social gendering. I would not have the same privilege of passing for the dominant group that I have currently, and while I might not care, I would at least be aware of the lack. Thus, I can afford to be ambivalent for the aforementioned structural reasons.
But none of that directly answers the “why?” While briefly noted, I find the concept the concept of a static subject (or identity) to be confusing. Indeed, I find it conceptually incoherent for a myriad of reasons best explored elsewhere. Given that, I see any attempt to self-identify as a particular gender to be not only an act of reifying the incoherent, but to be a performative contradiction. While I generally have no issue with the latter, in the context of something that is a vector of oppression (subjectivity and identity), denouncing it while (at least) actively playing into it seems ‘icky.’ Thus, I opt for a form of gender nihilism (book) mixed with thoroughly depersonalized pronouns: it/its. Although as noted, I choose not to insist on them for reasons mentioned above. Were I to take this nihilism more seriously, I might actively affirm them, but for the time being specific pronouns are irrelevant. Use what you will. A longer discussion of gender nihilism might be forthcoming, but who knows. (In referring to someone I don’t know, I default to they/them)
The question will no doubt be raised, “why not affirm gender non-binarism?” While my thoughts on non-binarity are long winded and irrelevant here (further, they don’t matter and ought not hold any sway over anyone), I’ll simply say that identifying as non-binary seems to me to be, at best, an affirmation of a third identity with no real break while, at worst, reifying the gender dichotomy (see Alex Ray‘s wonderful essay “Radioactive Transness” in Plutonics XIII, 123-124; also, see “Gender Nihilism: An Anti-Manifesto”). Again, I have no desire to tell anyone how to identify (or not) and thus my distancing from non-binarism ought not be read as an invalidation of anyone.
As noted in the 2015 addendum to the Gender Nihilist Anti-Manifesto:
Finally, this piece was not meant to tell anyone how to think about gender, it was the result of a collective analysis by a specific group of people which came to conclusions that allowed us to understand our lives. If you don’t like that understanding, feel free to discard it. I do not ask or demand you agree with me. I am happy that discussion and discourse towards these ideas continues. I made mistakes with omitting crucial contextual framings which caused my piece to be at least tacitly complicit in whiteness and coloniality. Keep resisting, keep struggling, keep discussing, keep surviving.
