United in love, not stupidity

It is a saying that pops up on social media a lot, usually in conjunction with a video of someone doing something indescribably silly: ‘‘You can’t cure stupid’’.

It’s a rhetorical statement, presuming on the congenital nature of stupidity, and somewhat unkindly dining out on the misfortunes of people (ok, blokes) who have attempted crazy stunts, with results skirting close enough to disaster to be funny without being tragic.

I discovered a word this week, via my favourite TV lexicographer, Susie Dent, that is relevant here: unasinous, pronounced like unanimous, is ‘‘a 17th century insult meaning ‘united in stupidity’,’’ she explains.

Apparently, though, while you can’t cure stupid, you can cure gay, or transgender. Or there’s a school of thought that says you can, hence the concept of ‘‘conversion therapy’’. With all due respect, that seems particularly stupid in 2019.

Parliament’s justice select committee has been discussing two petitions, signed by some 20,000 people, calling for a ban on these practices. It was reported on Sunday that the Government had been advised to delay its decision on whether to outlaw the therapies ‘‘due to concerns about freedom of expression’’, and so it proved. The committee believes more work needs to be done, particularly around ‘‘how to define conversion therapy, who the ban would apply to, and how to ensure that rights relating to freedom of expression and religion were maintained’’.

Of course the breathless soundbite that hit the airwaves straight after Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern’s post-Cabinet briefing on Monday was that conversion therapy, already banned in numerous countries and more than a third of United States states, was covered by freedom of religion and therefore wouldn’t be outlawed.

Sensationalism aside, good lawmaking requires precision and if time is needed to get it right, it should be taken, provided we are moving towards getting it right, and banning practices with the potential to cause psychological harm to primarily young people who will often be extremely vulnerable and confused.

Max Tweedie, the organiser of one of the petitions, made an excellent point, though. The concept of freedom of religion has traditionally been about protecting the rights of individuals to practise their religion, not about allowing them to impose controversial beliefs on others.

‘‘We do not permit someone’s religious freedom to extend to stoning homosexuals to death. We cannot allow archaic religious practices to be prioritised over the rights and general wellbeing of our rainbow community,’’ he said.

As someone who grew up in churches in the 1970s and 1980s, there was often talk of the hard time Christians behind the socalled ‘‘Iron Curtain’’ endured, meeting in secret, hiding Bibles etc, to avoid arrest, and possibly worse. Freedom of religion was freedom from those constraints.

The idea that homosexuality can be cured is inevitably predicated on the idea it’s an aberration. I’ve written before how, nearly three decades ago, I referred to it in conversation with a guy I was working with, but knew nothing about, as ‘‘this affliction’’. My ignorance and arrogance then still shames me and I wish I could find him to apologise in person. But it’s the sort of horrible accusation trans people are still confronted with on a daily basis, that a deep-seated sense of who they are is actually a mental illness. Ironically it’s often delivered by people who would have been on the receiving end of the same accusations a couple of decades ago.

The existence of these therapies also implies that gay, or trans, is a choice, rather than an expression of someone’s true nature. To which I will always respond ‘‘Do you really think people would go through this level of toxic abuse, not to mention the constant threat of physical harm, just because they felt like it?’’ If that were even remotely true, people would be turning their backs on that ‘‘choice’’ in droves. You can’t do that with your true nature.

I often wonder how many LGBTQI people those who espouse these theories have ever got to know personally. When I made the comment in the previous paragraph, I couldn’t have named one person who was a friend or even an acquaintance. I’m so thankful that’s different now. I’m grateful for their acceptance and their patience with me. They weren’t the ones who needed changing. I was. Rainbows, man. Stunning.

This isn’t a matter of doctrine, but I think there’s been a prejudicial, almost subconscious perception among some Christians that gay people are inherently promiscuous and incapable of being in committed, monogamous relationships, important within the church. Just one more thing to judge them for, really.

Firstly, same-sex marriage has demonstrated conclusively that when it comes to the desire to be in those committed relationships, we’re pretty much all the same. And, related, there’s really no difference when it comes to promiscuity, either. And that really is a choice.

Which does make me wonder if those religious groups offering conversion therapy also offer therapies to cure heterosexual people of their promiscuity? I’m being slightly facetious here, I know, but why would one perceived problem be seen as more serious than the other?

Maybe it’s time to get back to offering conversion in the accepted sense of the word and leaving people to live according to their true nature.

Yes, we’ve progressed, but we’re not there yet. A friend shared a while back about going to the wedding of gay friends in Australia. The night before the wedding, as the three of them were strolling, one of them asked if he could hold her hand as his soon-tobe husband walked on ahead. He was on such a high that he wanted to hold someone’s hand, but didn’t feel safe to hold his partner’s in public. Sad.

People should be free to be who they are, and to love who they love. Surely it’s better to see people united in love than in stupidity, after all?