False Pretenses

Phil & Alex Play Identification Games

Phil and Alex are one of those rare pairs: fast friends, even though they disagree on almost everything except a great cup of coffee. When last we saw them (Salvo 42, Fall 2017), Alex was unhappy over Phil's refusal to call their newly female-appearing, transgender barista "she." Now it's the next day back at the coffee shop, and things aren't likely to go much better for Alex. They go well enough for clear thinking, though.

Alex: Okay, Phil. Yesterday was bad enough, when you said "he" in referring to our trans barista. Now you've pretty much said it to her face! You called her "him" while she was standing right there and could hear you! Don't you think you could at least be courteous enough to refer to her as "she" in her presence?

Phil: Courteous? But I was being courteous. I was kind, tolerant, understanding, caring—yup, all that. I should think you'd be proud of me for being such a great person.

Alex: Huh? Earth to Phil—Did you hear anything I just said?

Phil: Sure, I heard it. Is there a problem?

Alex: A problem? A problem? Phil, what kind of world are you living in, that you can't tell there's a problem? Suddenly I'm worried about you, my friend. I asked you to be courteous to her by calling her "her," and you answered by saying you were perfectly courteous, and tolerant, and all the rest, while referring to her as "him." Do I need to take you in for an examination or something?

Phil: No, no exam needed. I've just transitioned, you see. I've decided I identify as someone who's perfectly courteous, tolerant, and caring. So that's what I am.

Alex: Okay, Phil, now you're playing games with me. Yeah, I see you trying to hide that smirk. But I'll go along for the ride. You must have some point in mind.

Phil: Yeah, I do, and here it is. You think there's a problem with me for identifying as perfectly tolerant, courteous, and caring. But that's only part of it. What if I were to tell you it was rude for you to disagree?

Alex: I'd tell you, courteous is as courteous does. If you're rude on the outside, you're rude, period, and I'm going to call you on it. Just because you claim to be something else on the inside doesn't make it true.

Phil: But why would you be that way toward me, Alex? That would be dismissing my whole internal reality! And what do you mean by "true," anyway? I've got a truth that says I'm a great person. And here you are, you rotten former friend, telling me I'm a louse. You should be ashamed of yourself!

Alex: Hah! At least you said that with a smile, so I guess the game is still on. Then I'll play, too! If you can call yourself tolerant on the inside, well, so can I! I'm tolerant even while I'm calling you intolerant. There! Stopped you cold, didn't I?

Phil: Oh, indeed you did, you fair and fine-minded, newly restored friend of mine. I can no longer call you a bad person, since you've decided you aren't. And I'm still a good person even if you call me rotten. But surely you realize by now where this is going, don't you?

Alex: Going? Oh yeah, I forgot; I was getting into the game. But you did have a point, didn't you? And I suppose you want to tell me what it is now.

Phil: Sure. But it shouldn't be too hard for you to figure it out for yourself. You looked at me a minute ago and decided I was rude, discourteous, intolerant, and all that—

Alex: Which you were, for not following our barista's pronoun preference.

Phil: And I said that I wasn't any of those bad things, because I identify differently in my own mind.

Alex: Which clearly you can't get away with. I already told you: courteous is as courteous does.

Phil: So the person I am isn't determined by what I "identify as," right?

Alex: Okay, now I see exactly where you're going. You're going to tell me that what our barista is isn't decided by what she identifies as, either.

Phil: You've got it! But let me explain the whole problem, not just a piece of it. Suppose we buy into a principle that says a person's internal self-identification is reality, and so everyone else must accept that identification as reality, too. As soon as we do that, we set ourselves up for a free-fall into chaos. You might observe my rude behavior and want to call me rude, but I could stop you cold by saying, "You can't say that! That's not me!" And if my self-identity is reality, then I'd be right. It wouldn't matter a bit how I acted. 
I could start a brawl in here, but if I "identified" as a purely peaceable gentleman, you couldn't deny it. We could have a whole slug-fest, people tossing chairs and flinging bags of coffee beans at each other, and not one of us could be accused of being a fighter, as long as we all identified as something else on the inside.

Alex: Oh, come on, Phil. That's over the top. You know that no one would take it that far!

Phil: Sure. But the principle that allows men to "identify" as women and vice versa, and to force others to assent to that "identity," is no different from the principle that allows me to "identify" as courteous and tolerant, no matter what I might do—and then expect you to speak of me that way. Would you want the whole world living by that chaotic principle?

Alex: Obviously not.

Phil: So why would you even want trans people to introduce it?

Alex: But gender is different. Gender actually is a mental thing!

Phil: And sex is a physical thing. Someone decided that gender trumps sex, didn't they? Not on the basis of science, by the way; it was a socially determined choice. And you just wait until the day we conservatives decide our internal tolerance identity rules over everything you call intolerant!

Alex: Oh, I can hardly wait. But you know it won't happen.

Phil: Right. We don't hold that social power today, and even if we did, we still wouldn't do it. Because it isn't our principle, it's yours. And as you should be able to see by now, it's a bad one. Chaotic.

Alex: Okay, okay. But could you just call her "she" anyway?

Phil: How about if I call the office instead, and let them know I'm sorry I'll be late getting back again. See you back here tomorrow?