Gender Ideologues Have Co-opted the Campaign Against Conversion Therapy
I spent years campaigning for a law that would protect gay youth from the ‘corrective’ abuse that I’d once endured. Then the trans-rights lobby got involved.
The term “conversion therapy,” which has been in common usage since the 1990s, is the polite expression that society has settled on to describe the various regressive, homophobic (and invariably unsuccessful) techniques that families and various practitioners, both secular and religious, use to “cure” gay men and lesbians of their desires. More recently, some advocates have preferred the term “conversion practices,” denoting that such “treatments” are non-therapeutic. Regardless of which words are used, it speaks well of our progressive age that such terms now carry strong negative connotations. Even most conservatives today acknowledge that it is pointless and cruel to pressure someone (typically a teenager or young adult) to ignore or erase their inborn sexual orientation. In Canada, where I live, a law was recently passed to outlaw conversion therapy, and it received support from all federal parties, including the Conservatives.
One indicator of the success of the campaign against conversion therapy is that activists pressing for an entirely separate cause—transgender rights—have improperly sought to appropriate such terminology for their own purposes. And so the words “conversion therapy” are now used not only to describe efforts to turn a person from homosexual to heterosexual; but also to describe any pushback against demands that trans-identified individuals be summarily “affirmed” in their stated gender identity, and (if they so wish) that they be given access to puberty blockers (in the case of children), cross-sex hormones, and surgeries to remove healthy sex organs.
Canada’s Bill C-4, for instance, defines prohibited acts of “conversion therapy” as including any “practice, treatment or service” that would serve to “change a person’s gender identity to cisgender [i.e., non-trans],” “repress a person’s non-cisgender gender identity,” or “repress or reduce a person’s gender expression that does not conform to the sex assigned to the person at birth”—though with a stated exception for “a practice, treatment, or service that … is not based on an assumption that a particular sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression is to be preferred over another.”
This conflation of sexual orientation and gender identity in the context of conversion therapy must be rejected, because these markers of identity are completely distinct. Indeed, many of the same progressive activists who campaign for laws such as C-4 have been emphasizing that exact same distinction for years. And so it is disingenuous for them to conflate the two as a means to stigmatize (or, as in this Canadian case, possibly criminalize) parents, educators, therapists, or doctors who may have legitimate good-faith concerns when it comes to transition.
This is a topic I know better than most. For more than 20 years, I have advocated for prohibitions against the use of conversion therapy for people of all ages. It’s a journey that began not long after my own lengthy experience in what we would now call a conversion-therapy program.
In 1989, when I was 24 years old, I began seeing a psychiatrist so that I might reconcile myself to being gay. Instead of helping me accept myself, however, the psychiatrist took me down the path of forced medicalization, unwarranted psychiatric medications, aversion therapy, weekly injections of ketamine hydrochloride (an anaesthetic), and “reparenting sessions” that involved me sitting in his lap—all in an effort to “correct the error” (his words) of my homosexuality. (At the time, neither of us used the term “conversion therapy.”) That “therapy” lasted six years.
In 1997, two years after leaving treatment, I decided to speak out about what had happened to me, in an effort to prevent this kind of “treatment” from being inflicted on other gay individuals. Eventually, I helped enact Canada’s first municipal ban on conversion therapy for sexual orientation in my home city of Vancouver. I testified before City Council on the day the bill was passed, June 6th, 2018, and found the experience rewarding. Following that milestone, I continued to speak out on the dangers of conversion therapy however I could, joining forces with others who had the same goal.
The issue of transgender rights, and the question of how such rights might impact a ban on conversion therapy, weren’t on the horizon for me at the time; such issues never formed part of our discussions. Throughout this period, in fact, I didn’t fully appreciate the difference—or even the fact that there were big differences—between what might be called “gay conversion therapy” and “trans conversion therapy.” So I wasn’t prepared for what would materialize when my campaign met with success.
In December 2020, after various hopeful starts and disheartening setbacks, I was invited to testify before the House of Commons’ Standing Committee on Justice and Human Rights in support of the Canadian government’s latest iteration of its anti-conversion-therapy bill. I told the committee about my past “therapy,” describing, for example, how a few years into treatment I overdosed on the multiple psychotropics that my psychiatrist had been prescribing in order to “silence the noise” of my homosexuality (again, his words). My “therapy,” quite literally, almost killed me.
By the time Bill C-4 received royal assent and passed into law in December 2021, it had become clear to me that what many loosely call “gender ideology” was exploding globally; and I saw the new law’s wording as a symptom of this trend. To be clear, I believe that trying to forcibly “change” anyone from who they are innately is abhorrent, ineffective, and, as I’d experienced firsthand, traumatizing. And I also believe that all people, regardless of sexuality or gender, deserve the basic right to live as themselves in peace. But I still disagreed with the approach reflected in the new law—combining sexual orientation and gender identity in one ban. Sexual orientation relates to same-sex versus opposite-sex attraction. Gender identity, we are told, describes an inner, subjective sense of gender that apparently supersedes biological sex. I expressed caution at this mixing of these two incompatible ideas. But by then, my views—like those of others urging caution—didn’t seem to matter.
Now that some of the political dust has settled, I feel deep regret about the way this new law was drafted and, I expect, will be enforced. If I had known all along that my advocacy work would go toward enabling the law as it’s now worded, I would never have lent my support. Simply put, the movement to ban conversion therapy for sexual orientation has been co-opted by extreme gender ideologues.
I believe in the material reality of biological sex. To even say that I believe in this “reality” is like saying I believe in the reality that water is wet, and that the Earth is round. But times being what they are, it still needs to be said, sadly.
It’s important for me to distinguish what I believe is real from what is not real, because recovering from conversion therapy, at least for me, has involved fighting back against delusions. My “therapy” was a sort of cult, with its own self-referential system of logic, separate from material reality or sound science. A combination of indoctrination and potent psychiatric medications was used to convince me of things that just weren’t real.
I grew up in Canada with parents who’d escaped communist regimes in Europe. While recovering from the psychiatric mistreatment I’d received, I learned through books like Margaret Thaler Singer’s Cults in our Midst: The Continuing Fight Against Their Hidden Menace that part of the logic of all cult ideologies, as with communist propaganda, is the blurring of lines between reality and unreality. What is real becomes the lie; while the lie becomes … well, not quite real, but accepted as real.
I respect that some people identify as transgender and feel the need to medically transition. However, I believe that this kind of decision is generally best left to the agency of grown (i.e., adult) men and women. Minors are a different matter entirely, being developmentally ill-equipped to make a decision with potentially permanent life-altering consequences.
I have never agreed with (or even properly understood) such slogans as “Trans women are real women,” or, for that matter, “Trans men are real men” (although, interestingly, it is telling how much more common the former type of slogan is, as compared to the latter). People who identify as “trans” exist, in the obvious sense of being as “real” as you and me. But trans women are not the same as biological females. And while I’m no biologist, the word “woman” has always been defined and understood as referring to natal females. Biological males who identify as trans women, and biological females who are women, are not the same. This is what’s called reality.
Gay men and women also exist. And our reality is based on biological sex. Gay people are “same-sex” attracted. This is what it means to be gay. Even homophobes understand this: The conversion therapies that many of us have endured were clearly intended to change our attraction from same-sex to opposite-sex.
But according to gender ideology, biological sex is not what’s most important, or even what’s real. Biological sex is merely “assigned at birth,” we are told—implying that these assignments might be wrong. Supposedly, the real truth relates to how a person feels inside—their inner identification with either a male or female gender, or something in between. In this view, the very idea of same-sex attraction—the defining quality of being gay—is nonsensical; it becomes obsolete. We are instead supposed to speak of same-gender attraction, on the conceit that my attraction to a person will be dependent on whether that person possesses some inner male spirit.
The various trans activists and ideologues I’ve encountered use shifting (and sometimes cynically veiled) definitions of terms such as conversion therapy. But invariably, these words are weaponized with the goal of removing any obstacle or delay that might impede a person’s ability to close the gap between their biologically expressed sex and their inwardly experienced gender—including through the full gamut of what is sometimes referred to as “trans health care”—the aforementioned puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, and surgeries.
In most cases, activists who seek a ban on trans conversion therapy are deeply skeptical of any form of counselling that does not start from the premise that a trans-identified child must immediately be “affirmed” in his or her beliefs. This, I believe, is their most ill-conceived demand.
And because this “affirmative” care demand is such a core element of gender ideology, I find little consolation in Bill C-4’s (awkwardly worded) exception for those therapies that aren’t based “on an assumption that a particular sexual orientation, gender identity, or gender expression is to be preferred over another.” Once a child announces that he or she is “truly” trans, then any hesitation, concern, or skepticism evinced by counsellors or clinicians may be cast by some activists as betraying an implicit “preference” for the child’s natal identity over their stated gender identity.
Notwithstanding my own terrible experiences, I believe that all people—including those questioning their sexuality or gender—should be encouraged to engage in healthy, exploratory counselling with a competent and ethical professional.
Healthy counselling isn’t about “affirming” whatever a patient thinks to be true. I have thought lots of things about myself over the years, many of which turned out to be false. Sometimes, incorrect forms of self-perception have minor consequences; at other times, the results can be permanent and crippling, and not just for oneself.
If someone who identifies as trans turns out to be mistaken in that belief, then that truth should surface so they can live an authentic life—just as if they really are trans, then that truth should (and likely will) win out. I would say the same to anyone questioning their sexuality. Indeed, I have said as much to numerous friends and acquaintances over the years.
It is antithetical to healthy counselling to push a patient in any one direction—including the direction of “affirmation.” The best that any counsellor can do is bear witness to a patient’s process, their grief, confusion, anger, sadness, bewilderment, depression, or despair, even to their self-destruction, but then, hopefully, maybe their mourning, revelations, and healing. Their integration.
I have continued in counselling (with a Jungian, for what that’s worth) for many years. I talk about my sexuality all the time—not my homosexuality, per se, but how I engage with my sexuality, both in body and mind. I also do, on occasion, question my homosexuality; but then I find my way back to my authentic self on my own. Exploratory counselling, what Carl Jung termed individuation, has helped in my effort to live life authentically.
While sexual orientation and gender identity are, as noted above, completely different concepts, they can cross over in a young person’s mind: A boy or girl (or young adult) struggling with same-sex attractions or non-conforming behaviour—perhaps boys who are effeminate, or girls who are seen as butch or masculine—can be pushed to transition in order to render themselves (nominally) heterosexual and gender-conforming. This is why, for several years now, gay writers have referenced gender ideology as a new form of progressive-seeming homophobia (“transing the gay away,” so to speak). I couldn’t agree more with this description.
As a prepubescent boy, 45 years ago, I often fantasized about being the opposite sex. A lot of young people who later turn out to be gay do as well. As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I also struggled through years of body dysmorphia, eating disorders, and self-destructive “acting out” (like cutting)—not an uncommon pattern for people with a history of trauma. This helps explain why I ended up under the “emotional knife” of my psychiatrist—not because I wanted to “change” my same-sex attractions, per se, but because I was too young and distressed to know what to believe. I needed help. I placed my trust in an authority figure. Today, I could have easily been labelled trans and pushed through the steps of transition right up to and including castration. Much as I think back to how damaging my own treatment was to my overall wellbeing, I can’t even imagine how much worse it would have all turned out had I gone through medical transition.
The worst thing that can happen to a person who wrongly identifies as same-sex attracted (which, though rare, does sometimes occur) is usually that they’ll go through a period of not enjoying sex before they realize they were mistaken. The worst-case scenario for a child who makes a similar kind of mistake when it comes to gender, on the other hand, is much worse. Even if they don’t pursue surgical treatments, prolonged cross-sex hormone use can render them infertile or sterile, and cause other irreversible changes to their body. Formerly trans-identified individuals who detransition or desist back to their natal sex often report negative emotional fallout as well. This can involve the realization that no one—not their eagerly “affirming” parents, caregivers, doctors, government, and social-media enablers; and definitely not the pharmaceutical industry—had their best interests at heart. When I listen to the growing ranks of detransitioners and desisters talk about the way they were gaslit by gender ideology, it brings me back to the same familiar language of trauma and betrayal I experienced myself, after my own “treatment.”
One of the main questions that emerged from the lawsuit I filed against my former psychiatrist, years later, was whether I had properly “consented” to the doctor’s treatment—a question with obvious parallels to the case of Keira Bell and other regretful members of the ex-trans community. It was agreed that I could not possibly have consented in an informed way to most of the doctor’s instructions, since I had fully immersed myself in his therapy, and had isolated myself from family, friends, and the outside world more generally. In other words, I had no means to perform a reality check.
Though young when I first met the doctor, I was still an adult, and so years older than the much younger patients whom we’re told now need to be summarily affirmed in their trans beliefs. I suspect that many of them will one day experience something like my own shell-shocked struggle, in which I realized I’d been gaslit, and then cycled through recovery, grief, depression, rage, and a sense of profound betrayal. Preventing such children from getting the help they need—even under the noble-seeming guise of prohibiting “conversion therapy”—will only make their suffering worse.
