The spell of trans ideology has finally been broken

In 2021, I was asked to give evidence to a House of Lords select committee about free speech and trans ideology. I was told the protocol was to read a short statement to lay out my position before taking questions from assorted titled luminaries.

I poured myself into the work of structuring a statement, sustained by the optimism that is a weirdly persistent part of my character – a belief that this moment would finally bring about the breakthrough when people would wake up to what was happening – to free speech, to women’s spaces, but most importantly of all, to children.

I had visions of sitting at that giant rectangular table, being grilled by concerned Right Hons who would immediately Drop Everything in order to Do Something. The air would be heavy with history.

But of course, we were in lockdown, so the event played out on Zoom and looked more like a meeting of general managers discussing toilet provisions. Even worse, when it came to my big speech, I entered into a somewhat unseemly back and forth with one of my hosts.

“Oh, no we’re not doing statements.” “I was told to prepare one.”

“No, not for this session.” I persevered, and the vaguely annoyed moderator finally decided to allow it. I won’t stretch your patience with it as I did theirs, but here are some excerpts.

“Almost four years ago, I saw that feminists were being bullied, harassed and silenced for standing up for their rights and their children’s rights. I decided to use my platform on Twitter to bring attention to what seemed to be an all-out assault on women, on their words, their dignity and their safety. Also, I saw that vulnerable children were being fast-tracked onto a medical pathway that carried severe long-term implications.”

And then, further on, trying my best to ignore the glazed-over eyes of my hosts: “If you believe that JK Rowling is transphobic, a woman who has devoted her work and much of her fortune to the vulnerable, the bullied, the forgotten and the abused, then you are under a spell.

“If you believe that men can fairly compete against women in their sports, then you are under a spell.

“If you believe that men will not go to the most extreme lengths to gain access to women and children, then you are under a spell.

“If you believe that children as young as three years old can agree to a procedure that puts them on a medical pathway for life, that arrests their natural puberty, and that has almost no scientific proof as to its efficacy as a treatment for dysphoria, then you are under a spell.”

It did not have the effect I was expecting. “But… but… what can we DO?” was what I had expected to hear, but instead the assembled nobs looked amused and bored, and quickly changed the subject.

This would be something to which I’d soon become accustomed – pointing at the approaching meteorite, only to have everyone stare at my finger. It turned out they were more interested in interrogating my conduct on social media.

I don’t remember many questions about the issues I had raised, and certainly none about what was being done to children in gender clinics across the country.

It was, in hindsight, a perfect microcosm of everything that was to follow. Afterwards, I sat at my desk, dazed, and realised that I might as well have been talking to myself.

It would be three years later, in 2024, that the findings of the Cass Review would vindicate all those men and women, especially women, who had lost friends, family members, work and opportunities, for trying to get the word out about what is now known to be the greatest medical scandal in recent history.

My optimism has taken a beating since then, so I’m reluctant to say this out loud, but maybe, just maybe, this time – the spell is finally broken.

Every time people tried to bring this scandal to public attention, they were shut down. Finally, the truth is out