J. K. Rowling. (Photo by Rob Stothard/Getty Images)
From her Twitter activity, J.K. Rowling has long been suspected of being a closet “TERF” (one who denies the rights of transgender people through a twisted interpretation of feminism), and today, she officially “came out.”
For those out of the loop, Rowling is referring to Maya Forstater, a British researcher who lost her job at a thinktank after tweeting her opinion that transgender women cannot change their biological sex. In the employment tribunal that followed, Judge James Tayler, an employment judge, ruled that Forstater’s views did “not have the protected characteristic of philosophical belief”.
“I conclude from … the totality of the evidence, that [Forstater] is absolutist in her view of sex and it is a core component of her belief that she will refer to a person by the sex she considered appropriate even if it violates their dignity and/or creates an intimidating, hostile, degrading, humiliating or offensive environment. The approach is not worthy of respect in a democratic society.”
Treating fellow human beings with dignity shouldn’t be a controversial stance, but the “Ben Shapiro philosophy,” of ignoring long-established facts in favor of religious fundamentalism and antiquated social norms, has become depressingly popular; I’m sure trans-exclusionary talking points will age just as well as all of those ridiculous arguments against gay marriage.
J.K. Rowling’s stance comes as a major disappointment to progressive fans of Harry Potter, a story detailing the rise and fall of fascism in the wizarding world, of the oppressed finally triumphing over their oppressors.
Rowling’s books, however, are very much a product of their time, and the times, they have changed.
In the years since, Rowling’s story has been aggressively analyzed by a large, diverse and dedicated fan community, who have found the character of Harry Potter, in hindsight, to be not a passionate progressive demanding change, but merely a nice man who maintains the status quo, comfortable with the mass enslavement of house-elves, and subjugation of other intelligent magical creatures.
To be fair, the wizarding world was never designed to be scrutinized to such a degree; Rowling’s world-building isn’t nearly as elaborate as J.R.R. Tolkien’s, and her attempts to flesh out her universe, post-Harry Potter, has been widely mocked.
These days, Rowling is often criticized for retconning diversity into her story.
Or simply for providing weird, unwanted details that make the wizarding world seem less ... magical.
It’s extremely disappointing that Rowling is now using her platform to spew trans-exclusionary talking points, but perhaps we should stop caring what our favorite artists think, or expect them to keep up with the ever-changing times, especially after they become wildly successful, insulated from economic hardship.
Perhaps the problem is that Harry Potter feels like the last story that resonated across the entire world, across different age groups, while still saying something reasonably profound and inspiring. Recent stories with comparable levels of popularity would likely be the Marvel and Star Wars movies, which are so keen to please everyone that they barely say anything at all.
I’m a firm believer in separating the art from the artist, and I still think J.K. Rowling’s stories are of great value; whimsical, nostalgic tales of a British boarding school system that never existed, ice-cold baths and savage beatings replaced with chocolate frogs and sexless love potions.
They’re great fun, whether one is over-analyzing their problematic elements or simply accepting the stories for what they are - escapist fantasies, a touch of magic in a drab, dreary world.
Although, perhaps J.K. Rowling herself should reread her stories with a more critical eye, particularly the first book, in which Harry first enters Hogwarts. When Harry places the Sorting Hat on his head, its initial reaction is to place Harry in House Slytherin, the house for naughty people. After Harry strongly objects to the designation, the Sorting Hat reluctantly complies, placing him in Gryffindor instead.
The Sorting Hat’s certainty haunts Harry for the rest of the book, the boy believing himself to be some kind of imposter, a Gryffindor in name only. Until, Dumbledore reassures him that the Sorting Hat’s analysis was secondary to Harry’s gut feeling and sense of identity.
I’m sure there’s a metaphor in there, somewhere.
