#something something constructive criticism

So, what’s the problem then? Are you denying that transmasc people face oppression? 

Of course not. It is not up for debate that transmasc people face transphobia and also often face misogyny due to being misgendered and read as women in society. Transmasc people face infantilisation and dismissal of identity, sexual violence, lack of access to sexual and reproductive healthcare and transphobic violence and harassment, among other things.

However, it is important to remember that many of the struggles we face are ones that are also faced by cis and trans women and non binary people. Most crucially, misandry does not exist as a societal axis of oppression. There simply isn’t a systemic oppression against men in any current society and we all exist under patriarchal systems of power. 

While some transmasc people do of course feel discouraged from taking on a more masculine gender due to societal pressure, society as a whole rewards masculinity and all men are policed within the patriarchy by other men for straying outside the bounds of traditional masculine ideals. The anti-masculine sentiments that we see in queer and feminist spaces tend to come about as a reaction to the harms of the patriarchy and the violence that has so often defined masculinity, and should not be taken as a personal attack against transmasc people or our transitions.

So what about anti-transmasculinity? Can I use that instead?

‘Anti-transmasculinity’ is a term that was coined by the Black activist group, Afrofuturist Abolitionists of the Americas specifically ‘as an alternative to the dogwhistle that "transmisandry" usually implies’. The group goes on to say that ‘a theory of Anti-transmasculinity does not validate the idea of misandry. Cis men aren't oppressed for their manhood or masculinity, even when colonized or poor’.

This conflicts with how many transmasc people have tried to use the term, explicitly positioning it within an anti-colonial and transfeminist framework, unlike the terms ‘transmisandry’ and ‘transandrophobia’. Instead, the term explicitly takes into account the ways in which anti-transmasculine sentiment is often used to further transmisogyny, such as the use of ‘racial-class paternalism’, positioning transmasc people as perpetual victims of a transfeminist conspiracy to undermine the patriarchy, misgendering us and stripping us of agency.

As Black non-binary and disabled Aftro-transfemme author Nsambu Za Suekama writes: ‘paternalism works against trans men and transmasculine people, not on their behalf. Paternalism keeps trans men and transmascs from becoming conscious of themselves as such. Gender paternalism requires that anti-transmasculinity be an invisibilized mode of subjection and coercion’.

But why is transmisogyny its own thing? Isn’t it just a mix of transphobia and misogyny against transfeminine people? 

Transmisogyny was coined as a term in 2007 by author Julia Serano in her book ‘Whipping Girl’ to discuss the specific intersections of traditional and oppositional sexism facing transfem people. You can also learn more about it by reading Jules Gill-Peterson’s book, ‘A Short History of Transmisogyny’.

The concept of intersectionality was coined by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989 to describe the ways in which people’s social and political identities overlap to create unique experiences of marginalisation and privilege, specifically using the example of how Black women are affected by racism and misogyny that overlap in ways that create a more complicated experience of oppression than the two types of discrimination in isolation. Therefore, the experience of transmisogyny is the unique combination of misogyny and transphobia, that is only experienced by transfem people.

So, while transmasc people absolutely do face transphobia and can face misogyny depending on how we are read and viewed in specific settings, we do not face misandry, because we are not discriminated against for being men. As author Devon Price explains, ‘there is no systemic “misandry”; men are not oppressed for being men. It is pointless and even damaging to try and create an “intersection” between a genuine form of oppression (such as transphobia) and one that does not exist on any systematic scale (“misandry”).’

Okay, but what about transmasc people who face other forms of intersectional oppression? 

Transmasc people can also face oppression and violence for other marginalised identities that we may hold, such as our race, sexuality and disability status. But we are not oppressed for being men. 

Of course, the ways in which people experience societal oppression may change as they transition and are viewed differently in society. For example, many Black transmasc people have spoken about the way the racism they face changed once they started being perceived as men: being framed as an aggressor and a threat simply based on their race and gender. 

Another example is the homophobia that transmasc people can face when we are viewed as queer men, which in itself is rooted in the femmephobia and toxic gender policing that is prevalent under the patriarchy towards people of all genders. Femininity is commonly seen as inferior and inauthentic in comparison to masculinity which is seen as the norm and confers privilege and power, so men and transmasc individuals are more likely to face homophobia and prejudice if they are perceived as being more feminine.

However, it is important to remember that transmasc people will still have access to male privilege that will affect their experience of the world. Black men will still experience male privilege which is not afforded to Black women, even though both will face racism from a white supremacist society. 

Okay, but not all of us pass or even want to pass as cis men. How can you say we have male privilege? 

Of course, not every transmasc person does or even wants to pass as a man in society. A lot of us are openly trans or gender non-conforming and some of us don’t identify as men to begin with. However, we can still benefit from the preferential treatment of men and masculinity in society. 

When asked if they experienced male privilege, many transmasc individuals stated that since transitioning, they felt safer from sexual violence, more respected (with some stating it had helped them gain a pay rise), and less constrained by expectations around appearance and presentation, to name a few examples (though of course, these experiences were mediated through the lens of other marginalised identities, and not all participants in the study were able to be publicly out or transition).

Anecdotally, even transmasc individuals who are openly trans or are not perceived as cis men can still gain benefits from their more masculine presentation. It’s also important to note that in many social contexts, what is perceived as female masculinity is much more socially accepted and even praised when compared to so called male femininity, even without considering trans status. 

How is it privilege if so much of it depends on being stealth or passing, though? 

Situational privilege is still privilege. Just because someone may only experience privilege when they are perceived as a man, does not negate that experience of privilege in that moment. It also doesn’t negate any oppression that transmasc people can face if they are outed or forced to reveal their trans status, such as when accessing reproductive healthcare. 

In the same way as someone who is in a straight-passing relationship and is less likely to face harassment on the street when out with their partner is not freed from the experiences of biphobia or transphobia in other contexts, transmasc people can also benefit from situational privilege, which can be precarious and complex. 

But what about the negative sentiments around masculinity in a lot of queer spaces? Don’t transmasc people face exclusion and ostracisation when they transition?

Undoubtedly, some transmasc people may find that the way they are perceived and treated in queer spaces will change as they transition. While some transmasc people may still identify as lesbians or enjoy being in women-oriented spaces, it is to be expected that as people take on a more masculine social role, the way they are read in these spaces may change, and they may be viewed with more suspicion or feel that these spaces are no longer for them. 

While it may feel difficult to be perceived with more scrutiny or hostility in spaces you used to feel welcome in, and you may have dealt with your own experiences of misogyny and mistreatment when being perceived as a woman, it is still important to consider that many trans and queer people who are not men have faced these same experiences under the patriarchy, and may understandably be wary or distrustful around men and transmasc people. 

There are still plenty of spaces that are very much welcoming and accepting of transmasc people, and masculine queer people more broadly, and while you may have to figure out your new social role and the changes that this comes with, there are still countless opportunities to be involved in community with other queer people and women, and be an ally to those who experience misogyny, especially if you understand that experience intrinsically from your personal history. 

But why does it feel like transmasc people are being blamed for misogyny when so many of us have experienced it in the past and continue to experience it now? It doesn’t seem fair to point the finger at us and not cis men. Isn’t this just trans community infighting? 

Of course, it is important to remember that cis white men are the group that holds the most societal power under patriarchy, which is a system of oppression and white cishet male supremacy must be dismantled. But that does not mean that transmasc people cannot also uphold the patriarchy or perpetuate misogyny, as of course can anyone, including women. 

It can be tempting to turn towards ideals of toxic masculinity in order to be accepted as a masculine individual in society. It is important that we interrogate these viewpoints and desires within ourselves as transmasc individuals and avoid perpetuating misogyny and transmisogyny.

As Jude Doyle explains with great empathy and care in his essay ‘Trans Masc Misogyny and the Red Six of Spades’: ‘Just as anyone impacted by misogyny is a stakeholder in the fight against sexism, anyone in a patriarchy is potentially an agent of that patriarchy. Treating women like shit is treating women like shit, no matter who you are.’

Okay, I get it, but I just want to talk about how I’m personally suffering as a transmasc person. Can’t I have a word to do that? 

The intent here is not to shut down any genuine conversations about the discrimination and violence that transmasc people are facing. We can talk about our experiences with transphobia and with misogyny without implying that we are actually women or appealing to our assigned gender at birth, and without putting down other trans people, especially transfem individuals. 

The issue arises when tranmasc people only bring up our struggles in response to seeing transfem people talk about transmisogyny. This feels reminiscent of the rhetoric men’s rights activists (MRAs) use to attack women and feminism behind a front of caring about men’s issues and rights.

For example, MRAs will only raise issues that they perceive as discrimination against men, such as high rates of male suicide or ‘male loneliness’ as a comeback to feminists talking about misogyny and criticising the patriarchy. This analysis completely ignores broader structural and political issues and the ways in which men police the masculinity of other men, blaming the violence and alienation faced by men under the patriarchy on women and feminism.

Since 2013, 83% of trans victims of fatal violence have been trans women, with 61% being Black trans women. Notably, the recent UK Supreme Court ruling on the definition of gender in the 2010 Equality Act was centred around the exclusion of trans women from women’s spaces, and from being legally defined as women under the Act.

This is just a handful of examples of the sorts of public violence and harassment that transfem people are currently being subjected to. It is important that we as transmasc people continue to be proactive and steadfast allies to transfem people who are facing the most public backlash and scrutiny, and that we do not bring up our struggles as a way to minimise or dismiss transmisogyny. 

Okay I understand all that. I want to bring up a specific struggle I’m facing as a transmasc person. 

That’s absolutely fine. There are plenty of spaces and situations where it is very much appropriate and relevant to bring up our experience and the issues we are facing. My intent here is not to silence other transmasc people. 

It is important, however, to situate the struggles that transmasc individuals face in the context of other axis of oppression such as misogyny and transphobia, and other intersections such as femmephobia, homophobia, racism, ableism and classism. For example, using the framework of anti-transmasculinity as described at the start of this essay and understanding our oppression as intrinsically tied to that of transfem people and women makes for a stronger material analysis of our mutual struggle, with transfeminism being the path towards mutual liberation.

I still feel like some specific aspect of my experience has not been considered here that would justify why transmisandry is a useful term though. 

I would ask to make sure you carefully read everything I have written and only then respectfully message me about it. I am not going to change my overall stance, but there are undoubtedly things I will have missed out here, and this is already getting too long. If you have a good faith question or comment, I will try my best to address it. 

You’re just some sort of weird chaser who just wants to white knight for transfem people and everything you are saying is stupid. I am personally offended by any criticism of men or masculinity and I will make this your problem. 

ive been rambling about them a lotttttt on the dumb sjkehsjrhsfjs,,,, i have . a great many thoughts wrt these fuckign robots