Passions, Humour and the Vocabulary of Strife

Passions, Humour and the Vocabulary of Strife

How do we fight? All together. What is resistance? Organized.


Passions, Humour and the Vocabulary of Strife

by Trinity La Fey

“Men understood what it is to be in a war and you gotta’ be armed.  Women don’t have that knowledge.”  – Phyllis Chesler.

. . .

“But humour, after all, in patriarchy, is just seeing the way things are, you don’t have to try.[…]Meanwhile rape increases out there, the destruction of the environment increases out there, in here, but women are dealing and dealing.  And think of the consequence of the therapeutic[.  W]hat happens is objectification of the speaker[.  I]nstead of real passion, they offer plastic passion.[…]When I feel passion, I feel: Love, for example, Joy, Sorrow, Rage, Hope, Despair.  These are passions that are real.  I name them, they have an object; they have an agent or a cause, right?  You enrage me[.  H]e did this and I hate it; I’m enraged at him, at them, etcetera.  You can name the agent with real passions.  Now, consider the plastic passions of therapy.  You know, I see them as floating blobs, sort of bubbles.  There’s never any cause out there.  If there’s any problem it’s you.  You have to deal with it, this blob that’s floating around.  For example depression: depression, I suggest, is a man-made passion.  I don’t think we have it.  I just think[: ‘]Oh, I’m feeling depressed today.  You see, I had familia for breakfast and . . . and I just can’t seem to get my shit together.’” – Mary Daly

. . .

Part of being effective in an organization is knowing where you belong in it.  What are you good at?

For my part, I cannot say my strength is organizing others, but spectacle and argument in the most political sense.  That doesn’t let me off the hook for trying to organize, which I do also, it just means that trajectory is best served by interest and aptitude.  Recently, it was pointed out that my interest in male violence and environmental destruction is concerning from the outside.  How many hours a week do I spend investigating all the crazy?  I didn’t know.  Okay, 80 hours+ is an unhealthy lacks balance, maybe I can scale it back.  My experience in Policy Debate, was seasoned by a life where argument was an impassioned, often dangerous risk.  As far back as I can remember, any serious discussion, of any kind, has been accompanied by a body reaction wherein I shake and weep.  It does not impair my ability to listen or argue, but it does happen every time; I know why, it is non-negotiable.  My body can be understood and interpreted, but not overridden.

Coming into the tournament practice of three hour debates was something I had stamina for.  Success was a direct benefit of being able to ‘spar’ in a way that risked so little as to allow for the development of skill.  Now, I know how to be an effective agitator.  Which brings me to twitter.  Last year was my first to really experience a social-medial platform, largely where public policy and debate have moved.  Although it has proven to be a uniquely valuable resource, it was designed to be addictive to its traumatized product: the users.  It is enemy territory.

There are specific reasons for entering that are a danger to forget.

It was not a place to move my real friendships into; it was a place to find strangers; it’s a place where the ethos is: fight me.  These are sparring partners.  From the insulated attempts at consciousness raising done here spring the people we don’t know we deal with every day: who mandate the policy of our lived lives by each interaction.  From the ethereal melting pots of YouTube, and now twitter, I found common allies with the natural world and moved those relationships into physical reality.  So many organizations awaited, about which I would otherwise have no awareness.  Glad is not the right word, but I do not regret the time I have spent there, learning about who we have become.

If debate taught me anything, it’s that the person with the most evidence wins; and here we get to the messy stuff.  On what grounds is truth provable if not by the self-evident nature of itself?  We try definitions.  Sometimes that doesn’t work.  Why not?  Why does the power of naming need to be as individuated as experience?  Does it?  What power do I have to name if I am not bothering to brave the conversation with people I don’t agree with, in places I don’t like?

Usually, if I see unironic pronouns in someone’s bio, it doesn’t matter how hilarious their tweet was, I cannot bring myself to follow them.  Nowhere on my list of things to do today is getting doxxed by a misogynist; I’m busy.  Monika Lewinsky gets a pass, because the thing is, it does matter what happens to our collective minds.  Bean Dad doesn’t have a name anymore.  His life is different now, because of a collective of people.  Someone had retweeted a particularly vile passage saying, “this is psychotic behavior.”  I thought, “Oh yeah?” and read all the way down.  All the comments.  Down to the bottom.

It was impossible to look away because it was a spectacle.

Some childless fathers outed themselves and everyone else – including all the colourful pronoun people and the radical feminists and the right-wing housewives and the left-wing teachers – we all came together and said “no”.  It felt good because, psychotic, evil, psychopathic or complicit, we all know what wrong is, but also because the platform is addictive and fighting is a rush.  It is an affront to need to fight, to feel a boundary violated (as anger induction has brilliantly been identified).  It feels good to make it stop, to make it right, to fight back.  To say no.

But it feels better to say yes and mean it.  Strife is complex.  The complexity is ever compounded by the emergent nature of life and time.  What is going on between the living planet and industrial civilization may not be rightly classified as war until effective resistance has been established to fight back.  While it closely resembles many things termed ‘war’ in the recent past, it is industrial civilization acting upon: destroying the living planet, while the living planet continues to provide industrial civilization with the capacity to do so.  What do we call this?  I am not the first to appreciate the parallel here to battery.   We are, as Earthlings, wild things, born into enemy territory.

Industrial civilization has changed every landscape.

There has to be some calm, radiant center from which no strife emerges, a source of real Joy, some benevolence in which to thrive for survival to be worth it.  Retreat into the ethereal is one psychological strategy, when even the body is colonized.  Retreat into identity politics or lifestyle activism or isolated, survivalist enclaves may serve, for those afforded it.  Always, always this escape, this endless exploration of colonized frontiers to flee.  What if we weren’t afraid to say that we have real, physical enemies that we could defeat?  What would that change?  Inside such a whirlwind, it can be difficult to negotiate all the feelings alone and impossible to relate, if thoughts and feelings are able to condense enough to crystallize, with so many of the necessary terms made forbidden as negative or even the ignorance with which we all come to new terrain.

Why not start with hate?  Who hasn’t heard that the opposite of love isn’t hate, it is indifference?  Bullshit.  Men don’t make torture porn of appliances.  Love has never been required for the avalanche of revulsion and Rage that I understand as the experience of hating someone.  They are not a food that just hasn’t grown on me.  I don’t merely dislike them.  It most often precluded any chance of love.  How can I – why should I pretend to anyone that I have not felt this way, that, if so confronted with a gross boundary violation, I should not feel this way?  What does it mean when someone hates back?  Is it speak-able?  Is it different somehow?  How?  I think about what it has taken for me to be able to say, “fight me,” and not mean ‘I hate you’: for disagreement to be a reason to engage, rather than refuse to listen or share, to neither presume to be the final arbiter of reality, nor assume bad faith, but to risk a little; or, to say, “hate me,” and mean it: to be able to withstand someone.  Practice helps.

Better yet, Rage.

I think the reason Rage is so vilified is that, like Fear, it is no longer a personal experience, but a collective, spiritual, chemical one.  The Fear.  The Rage.  Possessions of a sort: coming from somewhere, there for a reason and eventually something else’s food.  When I feel Rage, I feel it overtake me.  Often, I lose vision, or it darkens and pinpoints.  I say things in a loud, clear voice that I do not remember after.  I cannot hear the voices of strangers.  When it breaks, it is like a disrupted spell.  I shake afterwards.  Rage has done heroic things through me, but with a steep tax.

Much like Fear, it is not because, in my subconscious, I am my own oppressor and I just need to love myself enough to love others.  It is about pain aversion, death aversion; it is because our inner, ancient brain has signaled that there is a legitimate threat it does not find itself capable of matching right off.  It is my amygdala saying “get out now”.  That is not to suggest these states are incapable of being distorted into paralysis or unjudicious application, or that they are without their own character and momentum.

Rage can be blind, and has done less than heroic things through me.

Having an enemy is a hard thing to admit when the stronger urge is to give as the Earth does, to love as mothers do, but that doesn’t stop them from existing.  Mothers know what to do when their children are threatened.  The Earth becomes less generous daily.  Having an enemy does change you;  it draws out  characteristics capable of matching the things our amygdala tells us are scary.  That biology developed to address periodic threats, but not to run all day every day; we are supposed to change back.  To resist, to truly stand our ground, we must know where we are.  Not who we think, but what is functional, where we physically are.  That is in our bodies, as part of the land.  That is the territory from which we can no longer afford to retreat. Our visions of ourselves will change as arguments move through us.  Truth, the singular, is something we will catch glimpses of and try to piece together.  Doing that as a collective is language.

We cannot be punished out of or persuaded into what we observe.  We can only listen as we are able and share with those who’ll listen.  Conversationally.  Physically, to resist takes good health: strength, endurance and flexibility.  Fighting is a tough one.  Having been in fights, I don’t get ideological about this.  Being in a fight is a physical experience, different than sparring,  horsing around, different from heated discourse. Once in a fight, verbal or physical, it’s almost got its own world. Inter-dimensionality makes so much sense in fights.  Everything is distorted, sharp and slow. Waves of fight wash in an ebb, leaving tired, heaving creatures who want to slink off and lick wounds but aren’t sure if it’s done yet. It is very important to pick your enemies and your battles.  I say this because I need to hear it.  Who is really prepared to have a conversation about something, and who is a drone?  Who is a dangerous drone: know when to walk away; know when to run.  Practice helps, but practice sucks and is expensive.

When I think about The Sorrow of war, and of warriors, I do not pathologize it.

Sorrow is not a sickness or a pastime of the feeble.  Sorrow is the reasonable expression of experiencing loss and pain.  To be forbidden the experience of our own grieving stifles our health and ability to heal.  You feel your own real feelings all day.  I say to me.  Being emotionally resilient cannot mean repression, which only putrefies whatever is being buried, but a capacity to be uncomfortable, to reflect and change.

In the service of making Sorrow an illness, the language of ‘internalization versus externalization’ and of ‘self-esteem’ or ‘self-loathing’ has emerged to replace the terms ‘oppressed versus oppressor’ and ‘trust in others to listen’ or ‘desire to cease pain’.  Fuck ‘em.  Do you.  Healing requires a nurturing environment, with the cause of harm removed, wherein you are not forced to react to villainy.  That is not universally afforded to  everyone.  To whatever extent you can, balance between the work against and the work for.  That ‘for’ is you too: your Joy, your Love, which all dies with you, or before, if it is not nurtured, lived and shared.  Once hurt, healing takes time and can hurt more than the injury.  Take your time.  Feel your pain.  Heal.  Remember.

When The Bards used satire, they deposed kings.

They would only ever use satire for this reason and only when absolutely necessary.  What kind of power is that?  The remaining shadow of this tradition, in lore, is the Jester: the only court member who can get away with telling the truth.  What kind of power is it when the king doesn’t get your jokes, but the rest of the court does and they do nothing?  When Machiavelli wrote The Prince, he did it as a work of satire.  Today his name is synonymous with authoritarianism as a ruling strategy.  What power is it when no one gets your jokes?  Theory is important, but action more so.  As our actions are stifled, so our thoughts about potential actions.  How to get free?  Together.  While spectacle might hold attention,  only collaborative, permeable theory has the strength to make action inevitable, even desirable by far over the alternative: that we will continue to degenerate into increasingly stratified cybernetic zombies until we drive to extinction every last Earthly biome.  What power?

Unfortunately, the sociopathic and necrophilic are better at war; unclouded and unbothered by the ramifications, those traits are designed to win wars.  Clinical psychopathy was previously thought to be rare. Now, the very structure of modernity demands sociopathy as a baseline business model while the vast, common traumas of peoples’ personal lives are made unspeakable and left to fester.  That is a recipe for a populace physically incapable of empathy on a massive scale.

So, back to being part of something worthwhile:

can there be legitimate honour in some twitter feeding frenzy?  Where does honorable conduct live?  What does empathy feel like when the person across from you has none?  Are they an enemy?  How to keep from catching?  How to know?  Without the capacity to feel shame: to know when we have done wrong, used The Rage unjudiciously, been paralyzed when we should have acted, or nursed an addiction, we would have no sense of our accomplishments.  Workaholism has not delivered The Joy of accomplishment like pornography does not deliver The Joy of relationships. Maybe integrity is not something we are born with or into, but something slowly earned by learning to recognize its absence.  Without the capacity to feel that vacuum, we wouldn’t have sought.

Joy guides.  In shared pleasure, laughter, play, in being among beloved, I learn the codes of social conduct from people who can say, “fight me,” and mean ‘I love you’.  Without the capacity to reflect, in discomfort, we cannot recognize patterns.  Bean Dad is not my friend, but he is not my real enemy either.  That flash community dispersed and the Earth remains largely undefended.

After switching from Debate, to Drama, then Humour, and then Duo, I tried Poetry.

If the performance arts taught me anything, it’s to know your audience.  The judges didn’t care who was right, who had the evidence, whose argument was impenetrable, they wanted you to make them cry, and they wanted to love you.  It helped if you made them laugh, but they had to want to see you at finals: you couldn’t bore them.  The best way to do that was not universal, but that is, nearly universally, the way people judge.

Gloria Steinham’s work wasn’t popular because she was the best writer in the second wave, but because she was able to infiltrate male exploitation of poor women with her beauty and expose it to the middle class.  Andrea Dworkin’s work wasn’t unspeakable.  She spoke it; it was unhearable because she shouted it in overalls, with a big mouth and crazy hair. They were the spectacle.  Not because they wanted to be, not because they particularly enjoyed the attention, but because they were women.  What they had to say barely got through the endless attention given to their appearances.  Because they were women: without the spectacle, we wouldn’t have even that much.

Marry Harris Jones wasn’t ‘The Most Dangerous Woman in America,’ at 83 years old, because she organized people, although she did that also, but because she put people to shame.

Her power was in stamina.  My power will never be in being a body in the street, although I do that also, but in being one of many, in the sheer amount of evidence collected, in being able to illustrate an argument that can stand for itself, in knowing an audience well enough to make sure that they can hear it, in remembering our place in the Earthly legacy of women this side of the burnings.

My place is to float away alongside them, like ash, when my time comes, to forfeit all my names back into dust and droplets.  Until then, I will fight and convalesce and it will mean ‘I love you’.


Trinity La Fey is a smith of many crafts, has been a small business creatrix since 2020; published author; appeared in protests since 2003, poetry performances since 2001; officiated public ceremony since 1999; and participated in theatrical performances since she could get people to sit still in front of her.

It’s Not “Revenge Porn” or Deepfakes — It’s Digital Rape

It’s Not “Revenge Porn” or Deepfakes — It’s Digital Rape

In this piece, Max talks about revenge porn and deepfakes as a new form of pornography. Pornography has always been a tool for the subjugation of women by patriarchy. The article further relates subjugation of women to the subjugation of the natural world.


By Max Wilbert

Our culture is a culture of violation, a culture of breaking boundaries: the boundaries of women, of children, of forests, of oceans, of the living planet itself, even of the atom and the gene.

Where does the impulse to violate come from, and how is it encoded and transmitted from generation to generation?

One method of transmission is via pornography, one of a broad set of cultural tools used to inculcate patriarchy and pass it from generation to generation. Susan Griffin, in her book Woman and Nature, writes that “above all, pornography is ritual. It is an enacted drama that is laden with meaning, which imparts a vision of the world. The altar for the ritual is a woman’s body. And the ritual which is carried out on this altar is the desecration of flesh. Here, what is sacred within the body is degraded.”

As Gail Dines and other radical feminists argue, the sadistic brilliance of pornography is that is sexualizes these rituals, hiding them behind a veil of arousal, so that excitement becomes linked to dominance and subordination. Acts that would be anathema to our child selves become normalized, then eroticized.

Revenge Porn and “Deepfakes”

This understanding of pornography as ritualized degradation helps explain two of the newer forms of pornography: revenge porn and “Deepfakes.” As the slow burn of printed pornography exploded with the advent of the internet, now the internet is enabling new forms of ritualized degradation of women and violation of boundaries.

Most people are unfortunately familiar with the phenomenon of “revenge porn“—the practice of men sharing explicit photographs or videos of women online in order to degrade them—which has become all too common over the last decade. “Deepfakes” are newer and make degradation so much easier: computer-generated pornography, often created using AI/Machine Learning technology to swap a woman’s face onto another person’s body.

The technology to create Deepfakes has escalated quickly over the past several years, and now realistic-looking Deepfakes can be created relatively easily, or even automatically. Last month a report exposed that users had uploaded images of more than 680,000 women, without their knowledge or consent, to an automated service on Telegram to create photo-realistic Deepfake pornography. And another expose showed that TikTok stars—often underage teenagers—are ending up on porn websites.

Digital Rape

How can we describe this new form of violation? Sophie Maddocks, a PhD candidate at the New School, writes that feminist activists are increasingly seeking to re-name revenge porn and Deepfakes as ‘Non-consensual pornography’, ‘image-based sexual abuse’, and ‘digital rape.’

Like Susan Griffin, Maddocks points towards an understanding of pornography not as sexual expression, art, or the singular act of bitter men, but as what Andrea Dworkin called “the blueprint of male supremacy.”

“Pornography incarnates male supremacy,” Dworkin wrote. “It is the DNA of male dominance. Every rule of sexual abuse, every nuance of sexual sadism, every highway and byway of sexual sadism, is encoded in it. It’s what men want us to be, think we are, make us into; how men use us; not because biologically they are men but because this is how their social power is organized. From the perspective of the political activist, pornography is the blueprint of male supremacy.”

The Ecological Crisis and Patriarchy

As Lierre Keith says, if you could reduce feminism to one word, it would be: “No.” The  drawing of boundaries is essential to not just individual bodily and mental health, but to the health of the entire planet. And what is industrial civilization but the cultural urge to violate the entire planet?

Patriarchy is thousands of years old, and it will not be dismantled in a day, or a year, or a decade. But for as long as it has existed, so has resistance. Movements to dismantle porn culture and stop the proliferation of digital sexual abuse are widespread and growing. These problems are deeply entrenched, and confronting the culture of violation will require people in all walks of life to make commitments and take action, over lifetimes.

Deep Green Resistance is primarily an ecological organization, but we are also a feminist organization, because we recognize the links between patriarchy and the destruction of the planet.

Only to name one of the most obvious, the problem of overpopulation is mainly caused by the subjugation of women—legally, economically, culturally, sexually. And the path to solve overpopulation is simple: educate women, and provide culturally appropriate family planning and healthcare. When this is done, population growth disappears. There is no technical mystery here; the problem is changing the culture and restructuring power.

In Margaret Atwood’s prophetic book Oryx and Crake, global warming wreaks havok on a world falling further into dystopia. The most violent forms of child rape pornography are normalized, and young kids watch the “Nitee-Nite” show for live streams of people committing suicide. Soy-based artificial foods and genetically-engineered creatures fill every plate, and as the world descends further into chaos, well-meaning people spend their money airlifting food to starving polar bears in an ice-free Arctic rather than in confronting or dismantling the systems that are destroying the planet.

This is the world we are heading towards, but it is not inevitable. Our only hope lies in what Dworkin calls organized political resistance. Each day, I read these words and remind myself of our task:

[W]hen I talk about a resistance, I am talking about an organized political resistance. I’m not just talking about something that comes and something that goes. I’m not talking about a feeling. I’m not talking about having in your heart the way things should be and going through a regular day having good, decent, wonderful ideas in your heart.

I’m talking about when you put your body and your mind on the line and you commit yourself to years of struggle in order to change the society in which you live… A political resistance goes on day and night, under cover and over ground, where people can see it and people can’t. It is passed from generation to generation. It is taught. It is encouraged. It is celebrated. It is smart. It is savvy. It is committed. And someday it will win. It will win.

A Strong Argument Cannot be Cancelled

A Strong Argument Cannot be Cancelled

In this article,  Robert Jensen shares a straight-forward view  of Cancel Culture and how critique of a political position is not necessarily directed to mock the people who hold it but rather an invitation to become accountable to one’s obligation to participate in democratic dialogue.

Originally published on Feminist Current.


Being Canceled

In the current squabble on the liberal/progressive/left side of the fence over so-called “cancel culture,” in which one open letter in favor of freedom of expression led to a rebuttal open letter in favor of a different approach to freedom of expression, I can offer a report on the experience of being canceled.

Several times over the past few years I’ve been asked to speak by university or community groups, only to see those events canceled by organizers after someone complained that I am “transphobic.” At a couple of events that drew complaints but were not canceled, including one in a church, critics tried to disrupt my talk. None of the events was actually a talk on transgender issues. The complaint was that I should not be allowed to speak in progressive settings — about other feminist issues, the ecological crises, or anything else — because what I’ve written about the ideology of the transgender movement is said to be bigoted. A local radical bookstore that denounced me publicly went so far as to no longer carry my books, which I had given them free copies of for years.

If I were, in fact, a bigot, these cancellations would be easy to understand. I have never invited a bigot to speak in a class I taught or at an event I helped organize. I have invited people to speak who held some political views with which I did not agree (after all, if I only invited people who agreed with me on everything, I would be bored and lonely), but I have no interest in giving bigots a public platform.

The curious thing about these canceled/disrupted events is that no one ever pointed to anything I have written or said in public that is, in fact, bigoted. If transphobia is the fear or hatred of people who identify as transgender, nothing I have written or said is transphobic. Most of my critics simply assert that because I support the radical feminist critique of transgender ideology, I am by definition a bigot and transphobe.

For the Sake of Clarity

Let me be clear: I’m not whining or asking for sympathy. I am a white man and a retired university professor with a stable income and a network of friends and comrades who offer support. I continue to do political and intellectual work I find rewarding and can find places to publish my work. While I don’t enjoy being insulted, these verbal attacks don’t have much effect on my life. I’m not concerned about myself but about the progressive community’s capacity for critical thinking and respectful debate.

In that spirit, here is my contribution to that debate on transgenderism and the value of open discussion:

One of the basic points that feminists — along with many other writers — have made is that biological sex categories are real and exist outside of any particular cultural understanding of those categories. The terms “male” and “female” refer to those biological sex categories, while social norms about “masculinity” and “femininity” reflect how any particular society expects males and females to behave. That may seem obvious to many readers, but in some progressive and feminist circles it’s routine for people to say that those sex categories themselves are a “social construction.” I have been told that because I assert that biological sex categories are immutable, I am transphobic.

Is that claim defensible? Are sex categories a social construction?

About Reproduction & Respiration

Let’s think about reproduction. Some creatures reproduce asexually, through such processes as fission and budding, and some animals lay eggs. Most mammals, including all humans, reproduce sexually through the combination of a sperm and an egg (the two types of gamete cells) that leads to live birth.

Now, let’s think about respiration. Most aquatic creatures (whales and dolphins, which are mammals, are an exception) take in oxygen through gills. Mammals, including all humans, get oxygen by taking air into our lungs.

These descriptions of creatures’ reproduction and respiration are the result of a social process we call science, but they are not social constructions. We describe the world with human language, but what we describe doesn’t change just because we might change the language we use.

The term “social construction” implies that a reality can change through social processes. An example is marriage. What is a marriage? That depends on how a particular society constructs the concept. Change the definition — to include same-sex couples, for example — and the reality of who can get married changes.

Cannot Be Changed by Human Action

But again, at the risk of seeming simplistic, these descriptions of reproduction and respiration systems cannot be changed by human action. We cannot socially construct ourselves into reproducing asexually or by laying eggs instead of reproducing sexually through fertilization of egg by sperm, any more than we could socially construct ourselves into breathing through gills instead of lungs.

When it comes to respiration, no one suggests that “lung-based respiration is a social construction.” If someone made such a claim most of us would say, “I’m sorry, but that doesn’t make any sense to me.” Yet when it comes to reproduction, some people argue that “biological sex is a social construction,” which makes no more sense than claiming respiration is a social construction.

To be clear: Humans do create cultural meaning about sex differences. Humans who have a genetic makeup to produce sperm (males) and humans who have a genetic makeup to produce eggs (females) are treated differently in a variety of ways that go beyond roles in reproduction. [Note: A small percentage of the human population is born “intersex,” a term to mark those who do not fit clearly into male/female categories in terms of reproductive systems, secondary sexual characteristics, and chromosomal structure. But the existence of intersex people does not change the realities of sexual reproduction, and they are not a third sex.]

The Radical Change

In the struggle for women’s liberation, feminists in the 1970s began to use the term “gender” to describe the social construction of meaning around the differences in biological sex. When men would say, “Women are just not suited for political leadership,” for example, feminists would point out that this was not a biological fact to be accepted but a cultural norm to be resisted.

To state the obvious: Biological sex categories exist outside of human action. Social gender categories are a product of human action.

This observation leads to reasonable questions, which are not bigoted or transphobic: When those in the transgender movement assert that “trans women are women,” what do they mean? If they mean that a male human can somehow transform into a female human, the claim is incoherent because humans cannot change biological sex categories. If they mean that a male human can feel uncomfortable in the social gender category of “man” and prefer to live in a society’s gender category of “woman,” that is easy to understand. But it begs a question: Is the problem that one is assigned to the wrong category? Or is the problem that society has imposed gender categories that are rigid, repressive, and reactionary on everyone? And if the problem is in society’s gender categories, then is not the solution to analyze the system of patriarchy — institutionalized male dominance — that generates those rigid categories? Should we not seek to dismantle that system? Radical feminists argue for such a radical change in society.

These are the kinds of questions I have asked and the kinds of arguments I have made in writing and speaking. If I am wrong, then critics should point out mistakes and inaccuracies in my work. But if this radical feminist analysis is a strong one, then how can an accurate description of biological realities be evidence of bigotry or transphobia?

An Approach, Not An Attack

When I challenge the ideology of the transgender movement from a radical feminist perspective, which is sometimes referred to as “gender-critical” (critical of the way our culture socially constructs gender norms), I am not attacking people who identify as transgender. Instead, I am offering an alternative approach — one rooted in a collective struggle against patriarchal ideologies, institutions, and practices, rather than a medicalized approach rooted in liberal individualism.

That’s why the label “TERF” (trans-exclusionary radical feminism) is inaccurate. Radical feminists don’t exclude people who identify as transgender but rather offer what we believe is a more productive way to deal with the distress that people feel about gender norms that are rigid, repressive, and reactionary. That is not bigotry, but politics. Our arguments are relevant to the ongoing debate about public policies, such as who is granted access to female-only spaces or who can compete in girls’ and women’s sports. They are relevant to concerns about the safety of puberty blockers, cross-sex hormones, and surgical interventions. And radical feminism is grounded in compassion for those who experience gender dysphoria — instead of turning away from reality, we are suggesting ways to cope that we believe to be more productive for everyone.

Now, a final prediction. I expect that some people in the transgender movement will suggest that my reproduction/respiration analogy mocks people who identify as transgender by suggesting that they are ignorant. Let me state clearly: I do not think that. The analogy is offered to point out that an argument relevant to public policy doesn’t hold up. To critique a political position in good faith is not to mock the people who hold it but rather to take seriously one’s obligation to participate in democratic dialogue.

In a cancel culture, people who disagree with me may find it easy to ignore the argument and simply label me a bigot, on the reasoning that because I think the ideology of the transgender movement is open to critique, I obviously am transphobic.

But I want to make one final plea that people not do that, with two questions: If my argument is cogent — and there certainly are good reasons to reach that conclusion — why is it in the interests of anyone — including people who identify as transgender —  to ignore such an argument? And how can people determine whether my argument is cogent if it is not part of the public conversation?


You can find the original article here.

Is Dworkin’s “I Want A Twenty-Four Truce During Which There Is No Rape” Radical Or Reactionary?

Is Dworkin’s “I Want A Twenty-Four Truce During Which There Is No Rape” Radical Or Reactionary?

Radical feminism has for decades contained a tension between separatism—the idea that women can and should organize separately from men—and men’s involvement in the political process. As Susan Hawthorne writes in her 2019 book In Defense of Separatism:

When a political group wants to strategise so that its members can arrive at agreed-on political tactics and ideas, they call for, and create, separate spaces. These might be in coffee shops, in community centres, in one another’s homes or in semi-public spaces such as workers clubs, even cinemas. When the proletariat was rebelling, they did not ask the capitalists and aristocracy to join them (even if a few did); when the civil rights movement started it was not thanks to the ideas and politics of white people (even though some whites joined to support the cause); when the women’s liberation movement sprang into life, it was women joining together to fight against their oppression.

The difference is that women are supposed to love men.

If radical feminism centers women, what is the role of men and boys in the struggle? How should radical feminists relate to men who hope to be allies?

In this piece, Jocelyn Crawley reflects on  Andrea Dworkin’s writing around rape and her demand that men “step up and sort this out.” Jocelyn highlights her disagreements and agreements with Dworkin’s speech. Not all will agree with her analysis, but it is a critical conversation.

Deep Green Resistance is a radical feminist organization, and yet is made up of both men and women from all over the world. We uphold the importance of women’s separate spaces, and our organization works to struggle internally and externally against patriarchy. We welcome debate and engagement around these critical topics


Is Dworkin’s “I Want A Twenty-Four Truce During Which There Is No Rape” Radical Or Reactionary?

by Jocelyn Crawley

I Want A Twenty-Four-Hour Truce During Which There Is No Rape” is one of my favorite texts from Andrea Dworkin. However, I find this speech problematic in several ways. The primary issue is that Andrea Dworkin appears to be appealing to the conscience and consciousness of men in this speech. While the Radical Feminism that functions as the ideology and praxis behind Dworkin’s work can be defined diversely, I have never known it to place primacy on men in a manner suggesting that they possess the potential and desire to condemn patriarchy and cultivate equitable relationships with women. Rather, the primary attitudes and actions I have seen in the Radical Feminist Movement reflect awareness that the oppressor (men) never concede power and must be abandoned entirely or dynamically forced to cease reifying the Master/slave,  subject/object system of relations.

Without a doubt, Dworkin is acutely aware of the role that men play in actively (and oftentimes unabashedly) oppressing women.

This fact becomes evident at many points in the text, especially when Dworkin’s consciousness of male supremacy resurfaces when she tells us what it means: “It means you can rape. It means you can hit. It means you can hurt. It means you can buy and sell women”. In addition to demonstrating consciousness of how patriarchy operates, Dworkin’s speech indicates her awareness that the oppressor seldom makes substantive, significant shifts away from his perverse power. This reality becomes plain when Dworkin states that “Now, the men’s movement suggests that men don’t want the kind of power I have just described. I’ve actually heard explicit whole sentences to that effect. And yet, everything is a reason not to do something about changing the fact that you do have that power”.

Despite this understanding of sex-based oppression dynamics and the reality that men rarely give up patriarchal power, Dworkin’s tone in this piece is profoundly inclusive and collaborative. Specifically, she appears to be appealing to work towards ending patriarchy by confronting other men who, potentially, are participating in it. At the same time, she appears to be accepting the powerlessness imposed upon her as a woman by the patriarchy and using the reality of her minimal female agency to push men into action. For example, she challenges men thus: “Tell the pornographers. Tell the pimps. Tell the warmakers. Tell the rape apologists and the rape celebrationists and the pro-rape ideologues…Tell Larry Flynt. Tell Hugh Hefner. There’s no point in telling me. I’m only a woman. There’s nothing I can do about it”.

None of this “tell another man” rhetoric feels unequivocally right or radical to me, which makes this speech a substantive divergence from the way I typically interpret Dworkin’s work.

Generally, the Radical Feminist Ideology includes an unequivocal acknowledgment that men are the root of the problem (patriarchy) coupled with an awareness that women will play an integral role in speaking to power. The question whether men should be part of the Movement at all or to what extent has been open-ended and answered differently by various Radical Feminists. Yet in this piece, Dworkin seems to suggest that men have to be the solution to the problem because women can’t do it. Not only is this analysis wrong (men don’t have to participate in radical work for results to be attained and many women have engaged in numerous anarchic activities that have substantively challenged patriarchy), it’s somewhat enervating to witness a radical woman concede that more power be transferred from women to men (even if the acquisition of this power serves the purpose of condemning or quelling patriarchy.)

Another thought that has been surfacing in my psyche regarding this piece is that it seems to instill the type of false hope that Derrick Jensen has spoken about in his critique of the world’s normative regimes. At one point, Jensen asked a group of individuals who were listening to one of his talks to define the phrase ‘false hope.’ They said the phrase meant ‘a longing for a future condition over which you have no agency.’ In the context of Dworkin’s speech, I think the false hope surfaces as she comes to think that men will play an integral, inalienable role in challenging sexism. In considering the history of the Women’s Rights Movement, I am thinking of women demanding that men give them the right to vote and recalling the Civil Rights Era during which women built rape crisis and domestic violence shelters. While there are certainly examples of small groups of men operating against the patriarchy in profoundly radical ways, this is very rare. In many cases, male absence from Radical Feminist work results from the belief that resistance movements should be led by individuals who are members of the group being oppressed.

In other words, women are most familiar with the experience of being oppressed by men.

The experiential knowledge they acquire through the degradation that transpires with sexual harassment, street harassment, rape, and other forms of male violence is why they-not men-should be leaders in the fight against patriarchy. This is an informed construance and prevents men from reifying two patriarchal modalities. First, it prevents men from attempting to operate as male saviors for women who are thought to lack the physical strength, emotional intelligence, or intellectual aptitude necessary to accomplish significant feats on their own. Secondly, it precludes men from subordinating women by having them play secondary or marginal roles in the Movement Against Patriarchy.

While many conscious men avoid playing primary roles in the Radical Feminist Movement because they view doing so as a potential reification of patriarchal norms, I would venture to say that the majority of men are absent from the Women’s Movement because 1. they view Women’s Rights as secondary to “more important issues like capitalism or white supremacy” or 2. they enjoy male privilege and have no long-standing interest in dismantling the system that makes this privilege possible. I think Dworkin knew all of this, and this is why her appeal to the conscience and consciousness of men in a manner suggesting that they take the lead in the war against women seems illogical and perhaps performative.

In terms of performativity, I am thinking that the form and content of this speech may have been designed to elicit the power of pathos for the purpose of generating an emotive response from men which translated into radical action despite the speaker’s knowledge of the fact that the desired outcome necessitated conformance to prototypical scripts for female speech (which included feigned/learned helplessness while excluding the radical work of unequivocally speaking to power). In recognizing Dworkin’s extensive knowledge of Radical Feminism and commitment to the Movement, I also think that her appeal carried with it a sincere weight. Specifically, I think she may have understood that men might do little to advance the Movement while simultaneously recognizing the need to confront them with their own sexism and thereby cause them to engage in an introspective process marked by thorough self-examination.

In considering Andrea Dworkin’s rhetorical strategy of turning to men as leaders against patriarchy while also suggesting that women lack the sociocultural capital necessary to effectively fight male oppressors, I find my mind wandering to a potentially troublesome question.

Can Radical Feminism actually work when even the most erudite, devout proponents of it periodically abandon its tenets in a manner that reifies assimilationist (anti-anarchic) values?

My questions have engendered some answers which, while not entirely cohesive yet, have generated clarity. Specifically, I do think that Radical Feminism can work despite the ideological vacillations and periodic pandering to men that even the most radical women engage in. Self-defense trainings, the emergence of natural birth control methods, radical underground operations, and other material manifestations make the presence and power of Radical Feminism known despite our simultaneous awareness that we are living in a profoundly patriarchal world. Mary Daly’s term “metapatriarchy” is particularly pertinent as we come to recognize our ability to transcend, move beyond, or develop real, subjective existence within psychic and material spaces that are still ruled by sexist men.

Ultimately, the sex of the people doing the work against androcentrism is important for many reasons, one of which is that it may provide us with empirical evidence regarding the degree to which men and women (as distinct sexes) are willing to conform to or depart from the patriarchy. Yet irrespective of which sex does the work and how much, the work needs to be done for the purpose of creating a new world predicated on freedom from sexual violence.

As Dworkin cogently states in the final paragraph of her essay, “If you have a conception of freedom that includes the existence of rape, you are wrong”. She is right.


Jocelyn Crawley is a radical feminist who resides in Atlanta, Georgia. Her intense antagonism towards all forms of social injustice-including white supremacy-grows with each passing day. Her primary goal for 2020 is to connect with other radicals for the purpose of building community and organizing against oppression.

Epstein: The Eroticization of Domination and Women’s Fight for Freedom

Epstein: The Eroticization of Domination and Women’s Fight for Freedom

Jocelyn Crawley reflects on the objectification, domination and abuse of women and girls. She highlights the importance of feminist theory and the right for women and girls to live free from abuse and dominance. 


Epstein: The Eroticization of Domination and Women’s Fight for Freedom

By Jocelyn Crawley

Recently, a close friend of mine and I became deeply engaged in a dynamic dialogue regarding the persistence and pervasiveness of the contemporary regime which perpetuates systems of hierarchy and hegemony: white supremacist capitalist patriarchy. During the discourse, she encouraged me to watch the documentary on Jeffrey Epstein and his role in sustaining a sex trafficking regime. After viewing the 60 Minutes documentary “Exposing Jeffrey Epstein’s International Sex Trafficking Ring,” I found that my mind was drawn to analyzing his nefarious, necrotic activity through the lens of an important feminist theory: the eroticization of domination.

Those who are unfamiliar with Jeffrey Epstein should know that he paid underage girls hundreds of dollars to provide him massages and proceeded to sexually abuse them. The abuse transpired in many places, including homes in New York, Florida, and Palm Beach. As a hedge fund manager, Epstein’s wealthy status, associations, and access to shrewd legal representatives enabled him to allude severe sentencing for his activities. For example, in a 2008 non-prosecution agreement, Epstein was able to plead guilty to charges in Florida for the solicitation of prostitution involving a minor. The ‘victims’ in question were children who had been sexually exploited for profit.  With the 2008 non-prosecution agreement, Epstein served a mere 13 months through a work-release program. When he was later met with more severe charges, he killed himself.

Feminist Analysis.

As many radical feminists have argued in analyzing how the patriarchy structures ‘relationships’ between men and women, the system of relations is predicated on the eroticization of domination. Although defined diversely, the eroticization of domination essentially references the process through which the patriarchy structures the system of sexual relations between men and women. In essence men expressing their sexuality by controlling and subordinating women. Within this system, women (generally speaking) come to naturalize and accept dominance as an integral, inalienable, and inevitable component of sexuality. For this reason, normative conceptions of female sexuality incorporate the idea of one being violated, humiliated, or repeatedly having all types of psychic and physical boundaries broken.

In her article Eroticized Dominance-Emotional Grooming, Predatory Behaviors As Cultural Norms?, Athena Staik notes six key components of sexual relations marked by eroticized dominance that  are particularly pertinent to the forms of patriarchy actualized by Jeffrey Epstein. The first is the idea that the main pleasure the perpetrator acquires results from causing emotional pain to the other. This process involves tricking or manipulating the victim for one’s own gratification. In viewing the documentary, I noted that Epstein was able to make his sex trafficking ring functional by informing young women that he would pay them to provide him with massage services. Once in his home, he had them provide him with massages but then proceeded to sexually abuse them.

This type of manipulative, deceptive behavior reflects not only the principles of domination, but also the process of male objectification of women.

Within this schema, women are no longer viewed as thinking, emotive beings who bring their own thoughts and preferences to human interactions. Rather, they are reduced to entities whose thoughts, feelings, and volition can be ignored for the purpose of satisfying the male fantasy. In short, Epstein’s praxis of deceit to lure women into his home for the purpose of sexually abusing them works to create a system of relations between men and women in which the latter lack sexual agency and authority. Additionally, the system of relations ensures that sexual activity between men and women is not predicated on empathy and mutuality but rather the former ruling the latter. This system of domination diminishes the likelihood of equality between the sexes and continually recreates a world in which female objectification is presented as a normative, natural way for women to exist.

The second element of eroticized dominance that Athena Staik references in her article pertains to an individual being viewed as “a weak or defective object without feelings, thoughts, opinions, etc.” This principle is prevalent in many of the actions and attitudes of Jeffrey Epstein. I was particularly drawn to two examples of it. The first was the fact that Epstein’s master bedroom contained prosthetic breasts.  . In addition to doing harm to real female bodies through his trafficking ring, Epstein reworked the material reality of a woman’s physical form to become something that he could toy with, without having to with the real female human who possessed the breasts.

In my conceptualization of Epstein’s activity, he has observed and isolated a component of women’s bodies in a fetishistic manner that precludes him from having to deal with women as whole humans.

Women who have breasts yet are not just this one body part. In Epstein’s world, women repeatedly become their body parts; he was fine with removing them from the realm of material reality. He recreates them as prosthetic toys so he could handle without a living, thinking entity being part of the sexual process.  According to Staik, eroticized dominance creates a system in which “sex is a weapon for personal gain to prove superiority via dominance (versus a key aspect of emotional intimacy in a couple relationship).” As I analyze Epstein’s appropriation of prosthetic breasts, I concluded that he  actualized this principle of superiority through dominance by creating the prototypical system of relations in which men are subjects and women are objects.

Within this schema, Epstein can use his perverse imagination to invent and control how he relates to femaleness. In his mind, femaleness or womanhood involved not only sexually abusing real women but reducing them to non-thinking body parts which he could control. This component of the eroticization of domination is distinct from the objectification referenced in the previous paragraph because, in this component of the schema, objectification is no longer just objectification but rather the foundation or building block upon which domination is established.

In Epstein’s toxic mimicry of humane sexuality, superiority was actualized through his ability to dominate the other.

He perpetuated the system by reducing real female bodies into synthetic objects which could not protest or resist his advances. Those who are familiar with the diversity of Epstein’s sexual depravity may be aware that when his home was raided, authorities found child pornography and a stash of lewd photos stored away in a freestanding safe. These realities are also representations of both 1. objectification and 2. objectification as the springboard through which domination is attained. I think it also goes without saying that Epstein’s selection of victims as young as 12 years old is an example of the eroticization of domination insomuch as these individuals lack the emotional maturity, intellectual development, and physical power necessary to interact with him as sexual equals.

Reflecting on Epstein’s depravity and dehumanization of women, I found myself ruminating on the importance of presenting ourselves with alternatives to the modality of domination. Considering systems of relations that include parity, mutuality, and empathy. One thought that gained traction in my mind while pondering alternative modalities was the fact that people typically present two suggestions as solutions for domination: practicing love or cultivating individual and institutional freedoms.

Love and the fight for freedom.

Love is defined as an intense feeling of deep affection for another. It is an ethical, sustainable way to interact with others. However, prototypical schemas of love do not necessarily facilitate liberation from domination, or freedom. Rather, love embeds one in a system of relations with another individual who is viewed as an equal (or as having innate value and thus commanding respect) rather than freeing one from the dictatorial, oppressive grip of a malevolent individual or institution through which the subject has been reduced to an object. Although defined diversely, freedom is typically construed as the ability to speak, think, and act without restraints or hindrances being imposed on one by another. I posit that freedom exists but, because collective consciousness has yet to demonstrate an intense love for freedom, systems of domination are able to persist.

I conclude that cultivating a love of freedom, which involves being intentionally and continually in allegiance with thought systems and resistance movements that relentlessly fight for liberation, is the modality through which the current regime of domination can and should be contended.

We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes.


Jocelyn Crawley is a radical feminist who resides in Atlanta, Georgia. Her intense antagonism towards all forms of social injustice-including white supremacy-grows with each passing day. Her primary goal for 2020 is to connect with other radicals for the purpose of building community and organizing against oppression.
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