Identity Fiddlesticks

BY DOMINIC WIGHTMAN

That first driving test was a nailed-on fail from the start. Not due to any lack of preparation. Not that I was a worse driver than for the second test, which I passed. Not because of the car I used or the conditions that day. “Good morning, sir,” was how I greeted the driving examiner as they walked out of the test centre towards me. “My name is Mrs Hargreaves,” replied the examiner, “and a good morning to you, Mr Wightman.”

Specsavers would not have been able to assist – at eighteen I had no need for spectacles. I wonder how in 2019 a blind man can distinguish between Facebook’s 58 gender options? He’d have to have one hell of a stick. (A blind man, you see, is a useful arbiter for so many of the world’s anomalies, as he has to think because he cannot see).

In the case of the native American Navajo, there are four genders: man, woman, masculine female-bodied nádleeh, and feminine male-bodied nádleeh –  a male variant might have to wear male clothing during warfare, but women’s clothing any other time. Confused? How can one tell the difference between a male and female baby these days – save being so rude as to peer in their nappy – when leading baby clothing businesses are beginning to change traditional gender-based marketing of products, such as removing “pink and blue” clothing?

The obvious conclusion is to say the world has gone mad and gender is now a soup. And that would be a fair point – most people brush aside the 58-gender issue as nonsense as it bears little if any significance on their lives. A whining gender activist getting wound up because they identify as Trans and you called them “a good bloke” is not someone you need to put up with for long, unless you’re sat next to them on a long-haul flight to Asia.

The less obvious conclusion – and surely the right course of action, as it’s not lazy thinking – is to pander to the victim status of the individual in their gender variance. Let them know that you understand that they are the victim of bitter, old communists. Tell them that you’ve read Derrida, that you totally empathise with the pain of Foucault and Lyotard. Tell them that you totally get how the dogma of identity politics is one designed to dismantle the family, attack white men and dismantle “the patriarchy” – to cause difference and damage as it intersects society’s norms to a point of self destruction. Explain that you understand why people would want to short cut based on difference and promote people not on merit but on the back of their diversity. Tell them also that – just like racism – identity politics sucks, which is why we now live in a world of AIP, after identity politics. For it’s been found out – the game’s up – and the genderists are mere symptom and victim of identity politics; certainly not the cause. If they spit at you or come after you with an axe, be content in yourself just as you might be if you bought a deodorant for a good friend who honks. You’re being honest to them, and by framing your empathy truthfully you are doing the right thing. Always be polite – these people are most often vulnerable.

A valued colleague started out life as a man then was cajoled by the trans community into parting with his twig and berries and emerged in high heels as a woman – kryptonite against the identity politickers who have absolutely no idea how to counter such people. Now he’s a man again and identifies as such although his driving licence is that of a woman as he can’t be bothered to change it. We went and hired a van the other day as I agreed to help him pick up a piano, and the fellow behind the desk at the van hire shop asked for our driving licences. He didn’t say anything, but had to take a good look at my friend. It was an uncomfortable moment for the van hire fellow but added to the tapestry of his life. Were we bothered by the stares? No, we had a good chuckle. My friend has to call the bank using a woman’s voice and yet answers the office telephone using his male voice, which he’s got used to.

My colleague is the last person on earth to ever play victim. But give him Foucault and Derrida – Identity Politics – and he’ll totally concur that it’s dangerous piffle. Those bitter, commie bastards are to blame for when he wakes up with that irrepressible urge to scratch nuts that no longer exist – I am surprised he doesn’t have a dart board with those French commies’ faces pasted to it; that he hasn’t had one of those loo rolls printed with the face of the deliverer, Alinsky, on it. My colleague – and friend – recognises talent and admires genius, so why would he wish to replace the goal of meritocracy with some mad egg and spoon race where the less talented and less inspired have their eggs glued to their spoons? Why would he want to hold back progress and therefore restrain the greater good allowed by freedom of choice and market?

Let’s be clear, Identity Politics is the greatest gift ever by the Left to those on the Right. At a time when the Left needs to help citizens see what unites them, instead it focuses on their differences – causing mayhem and division with its black and white equality-of-outcome strategies at a time in human history where trade-off and nuance deliver success.

Leftists by embracing identity politics have become the new racists – they have become so blinkered in the self-destructive, inward-pointing, circular firing squad of postmodernist neo Marxism that they have lost the ability to see or understand how intolerance shapes politics. To identify actual intolerance requires investigating not just beliefs but also the relationship between beliefs and the environments people inhabit. The likes of Foucault and Derrida have made the Left blind and the only outcomes of consequent errors – ask angry Mrs Hargreaves – are rejection and failure.

Advertisements