The raven himself is hoarse

There was a time when I thought I finally had a handle on gender: it’s a spectrum, right? It’s not defined by biology or chromosomes -it’s how you think, how you feel, who you are. It should not merely be assigned, it should be assumed. And just when I thought I was escaping from the biases of another era, and beginning to see the wisdom in Bell Curve thinking, I found myself wandering in yet another labyrinth. It was only a matter of time before I met the Minotaur, I suppose.

But it all made sense: we are what we feel inside, no matter our outward assignation. And, let’s face it, none of us is always the same person -we evolve both in time and place; who we are at work, or in public, may not be the same as who we are at home and with friends. I am large, I contain multitudes, as Walt Whitman confesses in his Leaves of Grass.

I am old now, and have never felt the urge to leave my tent; I do not feel imprisoned, nor deprived, and yet I can understand that others may wish to leave the flap unfastened. My own multitudes are those of ideas, not identities -sexual or otherwise- but as I say, we are all different and I have no problem with that.

Still, I enjoy opinions and ideas that trespass on Shibboleths, so I was intrigued when I came across an essay about the gender spectrum by the philosopher Rebecca Reilly-Cooper, from the University of Warwick: ‘

As she writes, ‘The word ‘gender’ originally had a purely grammatical meaning in languages that classify their nouns as masculine, feminine or neuter. But since at least the 1960s, the word has taken on another meaning, allowing us to make a distinction between sex and gender. For feminists, this distinction has been important, because it enables us to acknowledge that some of the differences between women and men are traceable to biology, while others have their roots in environment, culture, upbringing and education – what feminists call ‘gendered socialisation’.’

And, in what Reilly-Cooper sees as the radical feminist view, ‘[G]ender refers to the externally imposed set of norms that prescribe and proscribe desirable behaviour to individuals in accordance with morally arbitrary characteristics.’ That view, by the way -although I have difficulty with it- is the one which I had finally come to understand: imposed gender is a caste system, a hierarchical one in which males occupy the highest rank, and socialization proceeds accordingly. ‘So, for the radical feminist, the aim is to abolish gender altogether.’

The author, however discusses another view of gender -the queer feminist view- that  ‘what makes the operation of gender oppressive is not that it is socially constructed and coercively imposed: rather, the problem is the prevalence of the belief that there are only two genders.’ The choice isn’t simply a binary one -gender is a spectrum.

But now Reilly-Cooper’s training as a philosopher enters. ‘If’, she posits, ‘gender really is a spectrum, doesn’t this mean that every individual alive is non-binary, by definition? If so, then the label ‘non-binary’ to describe a specific gender identity would become redundant, because it would fail to pick out a special category of people.’ Even the binary of Tall/Short is relative, because nobody is absolutely tall -it is merely a comparison between that individual and the average height in whatever population we are considering.

And, ‘If gender, like height, is to be understood as comparative or relative, this would fly in the face of the insistence that individuals are the sole arbiters of their gender. Your gender would be defined by reference to the distribution of gender identities present in the group in which you find yourself, and not by your own individual self-determination.’

An interesting conclusion, especially if you expand the concept. If gender is a spectrum, that means it’s a continuum between two extremes, and everyone is located somewhere along that continuum. I think of myself as a man, and yet someone is likely to be further along the spectrum towards manhood, and would therefore be more of a man than me… Whoaa.

The author takes it further, of course: ‘In reality, everybody is non-binary. We all actively participate in some gender norms, passively acquiesce with others, and positively rail against others still. So to call oneself non-binary is in fact to create a new false binary.’ Or, if you want to ‘identify as pangender, is the claim that you represent every possible point on the spectrum? All at the same time?’ And if you don’t ‘accept that masculinity should be defined in terms of dominance while femininity should be described in terms of submission… whatever you come up with, they are going to represent opposites of one another.’

I love the way philosophers approach things, don’t you? The next question she asks is ‘how many genders would we have to recognise in order not to be oppressive? Just how many possible gender identities are there?’ Her answer: ‘7 billion, give or take. There are as many possible gender identities as there are humans on the planet… But if this is so, it’s not clear how it makes sense or adds anything to our understanding to call any of this stuff ‘gender’, as opposed to just ‘human personality’… The word gender is not just a fancy word for your personality or your tastes or preferences. It is not simply a label to adopt so that you now have a unique way to describe just how large and multitudinous and interesting you are. Gender is the value system that ties desirable (and sometimes undesirable?) behaviours and characteristics to reproductive function.  Once we’ve decoupled those behaviours and characteristics from reproductive function – which we should – and once we’ve rejected the idea that there are just two types of personality and that one is superior to the other – which we should – what can it possibly mean to continue to call this stuff ‘gender’? What meaning does the word ‘gender’ have here, that the word ‘personality’ cannot capture?’ Bravo!

So, should the default then, be ‘cis’ (i.e. personal identity conforms with birth sex)? She has an answer to that one, too: A ‘desire not to be cis is rational and makes perfect sense, especially if you are female. I too believe my thoughts, feelings, aptitudes and dispositions are far too interesting, well-rounded and complex to simply be a ‘cis woman’… Once we recognise that the number of gender identities is potentially infinite, we are forced to concede that nobody is deep down cisgender.’

And remember, ‘To call yourself non-binary or genderfluid while demanding that others call themselves cisgender is to insist that the vast majority of humans must stay in their boxes, because you identify as boxless… The solution is not to reify gender by insisting on ever more gender categories that define the complexity of human personality in rigid and essentialist ways. The solution is to abolish gender altogether… You do not need to have a deep, internal, essential experience of gender to be free to dress how you like, behave how you like, work how you like, love who you like. You do not need to show that your personality is feminine for it to be acceptable for you to enjoy cosmetics, cookery and crafting.’ Amen.

Somehow, I feel that Reilly-Cooper has allowed me to peek under the canvass just a little -sort of like what I used to do when I was a kid and the circus came to town. I’m sure it did not go unnoticed, but nobody seemed to mind that I was fascinated with what was going on, and that I wanted to know how it all worked -and maybe even be invited in to ask some questions.

After all, curiosity is what leads to understanding -and isn’t it better to be interested than indifferent? Or worse, intolerant?


I remember (sort of) my days in Elementary School, when one of the most devastating insults a little boy could receive was to be labelled a crybaby. I’m not sure why, really. Maybe it meant you didn’t fit in with the prevailing umwelt –with what you were supposed to be as a little boy- or maybe it was just a talisman raised to guard against the fear that despite its undesirability, it might be hiding in us all –even the accuser. Children are inherently superstitious, don’t you think?

It never occurred to me to wonder about the expression at the time, nor even later when I had children of my own. Babies cry, often too much, and perhaps more to the point, often at inconvenient times: during the nights. But I never suspected that it was sufficiently upsetting that it would transmute into folklore as a children’s curse. In fact, as childhood made way for my adult clothes, I didn’t think much about it at all -let alone as an imprecation- until I happened upon an article in the CBC News: ‘Researchers at the University of Warwick conducted a meta-analysis of studies involving about 8,700 infants in countries including Canada, Germany, Denmark, Japan, Italy and the U.K.’ and guess what? ‘[…]babies in Canada, Britain, Italy and the Netherlands cry more than babies in other countries.’ And not only that, ‘On average, Canadian babies cried 30 minutes more than babies from other countries.’ Great! There goes our long held patriotic claim to be the ‘polite nation’ -the one usually definable by what we are not: (not American, not greedy, not pushy, not… Well, you get the point). ‘Canadian babies had some of the highest levels (peaking at three to four weeks at 34.1 per cent of infants), followed by the U.K. (peaking at one to two weeks at 28 per cent) and Italy (peaking at eight to nine weeks at 20.9 per cent).’ ‘Germany, Japan and Denmark had the least amount of crying and fussing babies.’ Damn.

Mind you, if you actually look at the article reported by the CBC: – s0070, ‘Overall, fuss/cry durations were high across the first 6 weeks of life, then reduced significantly over the following 6 weeks. All studies found a “universal” reduction in fuss/cry duration between 6 and 12 weeks of age.’ The reasons for the differences were not at all clear: ‘[…] we can only speculate on the reasons why there are country differences, in particular between Denmark and the rest of Europe and North America. These could range from economic conditions, such as less social inequality, to caretaking patterns such as responsiveness, carrying behavior and management in Denmark that have been shown to differ from the United Kingdom. However, there may also be population genetic differences, and the infants both inherit their parents’ genes and are reared by them (gene-environment correlation). […]Feeding type was a further moderator of fuss/cry duration. Bottle or mixed feeding was associated with reduced duration of fussing and crying or colic from 3-4 weeks of age onward. Switch in feeding type is one frequently adopted method by parents dealing with a crying baby and has been found to reduce crying regardless of what formula change is instituted, suggesting a placebo effect.’

Unfortunately, ‘[…]this is a review of studies in North America and parts of Europe with only 1 study from Japan. No studies from threshold or developing countries were available, but these would be needed to provide adequate feedback to parents on other continents. Feeding type information was also not available for some studies.’

And what about ‘colic’ the catch-all word for persistent crying? ‘The most widely used definition for colic is the “Rule of Three’s”: an infant is considered to have colic if the infant fusses or cries for >3 hours, >3 days per week, for >3 weeks.’ Unfortunately it is, apparently, often a diagnosis of despair with no readily identifiable cause. Indeed, ‘The rapid developmental change in fuss/cry duration has implications for treatment and interpretation of treatment studies. Colic is the extreme of normal fuss/cry behavior, self-limiting, and, thus, the vast majority will spontaneously remit. Adequate management of fussing and crying in the first 3 months rather than treatment may be required. However, if excessive fuss/cry persists beyond the first 3 months, there is increasing evidence that this may indicate regulatory problems with adverse consequences for future development and may require treatment.’

But, bringing it back to Canada, my terre natale, ‘Psychology professor Dieter Wolke, lead author of the study, says Canadian parents need not worry. […] He pointed out that babies in Canada peaked around the three-four week mark but fell into a more normal range around week six.’ …Damned by faint praise again…

And what about Germany, Japan and Denmark? Especially Denmark –why does it always seem to win everything? ‘”In Denmark, it seems to be they’re more relaxed about it,” Wolke said. “They might have a little bit more support because of maternity and paternity laws … the father in the first few weeks can stay at home, too.” It’s worth noting that Denmark regularly falls at or near the top of the “best countries to live in” lists. Wolke speculates that this may foster a population that feels good about itself, and those emotions can transfer to the baby.’

Uhmm, excuse me! ‘”Babies are already very different in how much they cry in the first weeks of life,” the researchers said. “There are large but normal variations”’. So let’s not dump on les petits Canadiens, eh? It’s a squeaky wheel that gets the grease, after all. Right? …I mean that’s right isn’t it…?