We Were Too Polite to Stop the Woke Takeover

Moral cowardice is the term du jour, a neat explainer of how the trans debacle got a stranglehold on decent society. The moral cowardice of medics, teachers, parents and politicians who failed to stand up against a vociferous, if miniscule, trans lobby. If only we ordinary folk had shared the moral bravery of people like J.K. Rowling, Julie Bindell or Kathleen Stock to name only three, none of the mess would have happened. However, a recent training session I attended for social care workers about the Supreme Court ruling has made me query moral cowardice as an explainer and wonder if misplaced politeness is actually to blame.

The room fell silent. We attendees all thought about some of the children we work with who believe themselves to be members of the opposite sex. One child imaginatively doesn’t think he’s a person at all but a colour: turquoise*. We waited with baited breath about how we would have to explain to families that it was all a bit of a mix-up and their children weren’t their chosen sex after all. The advice from the HR officer was – drum roll – “We will continue to treat everyone with respect.” That was it. A lecture followed about valuing the integrity of the individuals we work with. Less moral cowardice, more: please don’t upset anyone.

It’s all very well wishing we could be as clear-eyed and straight talking about these issues as the three heroines above, but how possible is this in real life? Meet Roger, a 14 year-old female school refuser whom I support. When I first visited her house, I had to brace myself because the smell of urine was strong even from the small concrete garden path. Dad opened the door and a variety of saturated puppy mats were laid out in the hall. A baby in a nappy was watching the television. Dad was unshaven and looked sad. He said, “Roger can’t face seeing you today. She, sorry, I mean, he, has had a bad night.” When Roger did eventually appear, I met a pale wraith-like girl with a crew cut and smart tracksuit. I heard myself saying: “Hi Roger nice to meet you.” She clearly had enough troubles and didn’t need some middle-aged lady reminding her she was actually called Madeline.

Or the time I first met a colleague I’d only ever spoken to on the phone who called himself Jennifer. When we met in person I was astounded that such a monumental man would attempt to pull off pretending to be a lady. I had to try very hard to repress the gurgling laughter – but who in all good conscience would actually guffaw in someone’s face?

I asked around and similar interactions are legion. The lady who runs the local ‘chatty café’ told me that her best friend’s daughter had decided she had no gender and was having a double mastectomy: “I said ‘Oh goodness, that’s very modern,’ I bought her flowers and sent her a Get Well Soon card even though I thought the whole thing was tragic.” A West Country churchwarden pretended to be pleased when the local bishop told her that his now male daughter had finally grown a good beard. A school wellbeing officer had to listen supportively to the parents of a child who thought she was a Pomeranian (canine, not Polish).

At no point would I, nor any of these people, toss back our heads and gasp: ‘What a deluded twerp! Come on, have a cold shower and stop this nonsense’ – even if that’s what we were all thinking. And yet, in choosing pathological politeness over frank honesty, we ordinary folk have been complicit in embedding corrosive ideologies. What began with polite conversation ended with mutilated children, chilling corporate guidelines and criminalised speech.

Even Archbishops are not immune. When Mary Wakefield recently interviewed Rowan Williams she pressed him about the trans issue and he remarked that the Rev Rachel Mann (a gentleman with a terrifying red and black website) was a very good poet whom he admired. And though this seems terribly unthinking, it is also very human: we are moved by the individuals we come across and we do not want to hurt or embarrass them. When played out at scale it results in the most appalling societal failure, but on an individual level – what other practical option is there? How do we draw the line between offensive rudeness and frank honesty? With great difficulty it seems.

Alas, trans is not the only issue where politeness to individuals is allowing damaging ideologies to run rampant. (If you’re a visual learner, remember the photograph of Michael Gove gazing up at Greta Thunberg.) Consider also the increasing number of young people who are in the grip of mental health issues. Again, the same behaviours apply: the genuine care of family, friends, GPs, mental health professionals and teachers towards individuals who claim to be suffering from ‘anxiety’ versus the devastating reality of this ideology being embraced at scale, and the negative effects on the individuals of their belief in their own mental fragility. The UK Government is now spending £3.6 billion a year on anxiety and depression benefits – more than on musculoskeletal diseases. Rather than having to wait for a whole generation of young people to fester in their bedrooms, for the economy to continue to stagnate, for the next but one Secretary of State for the DWP to belatedly commission a review, wouldn’t it be better if thousands of ordinary – more honest – conservations took place up and down the country: “Come on, I know you feel wretched, but a job, some exercise and socialising will help put you right.”

More troubling still, Islamism. When my friend Nur put her nine year-old daughter in a head-scarf, I was gutted for the girl. I managed a smile and said, “Isn’t she growing up?” I wish now I had elevated my concerns for the girl and the growing Islamification of the UK above my wish not to insult my friend or stick my nose into her business. But I honestly cannot visualise how I would have articulated this without causing the most dreadful scene. I have no doubt there are thousands of school teachers, social workers, friends and neighbours who feel the same but avoid being anything other than polite to the individuals they know, like and work with. In doing so, we ignore – until it becomes impossible to ignore – the wider problems created by such duplicitous polite acceptance.

If, as a society, we can work out a way of honestly honouring the individual – and at the same time making it very clear we hold no truck with their ideology or choices, then so much the better. Answers on a postcard please.

* All names, and colours, have been changed

Mary Gilleece is an education support worker and her name is a pseudonym.