On Trans Bodies & Redefining Womanhood
A look at Natasha Vargas-Cooper’s “Womanhood Redefined”
As trans women are ought to do, I’ve been thinking a lot about bodies recently. More particularly, the social taboos of transitioning or transitioned bodies, and the ways in which society ties trans people at the hip to their assigned at birth sexes.
Freelance writer Natasha Vargas-Cooper recently published an article in The American Conservative called “Womanhood Redefined.” The article, which has been spread subtly and not-so-subtly among liberal and left circles, kicked up a storm after Jacobin editorial board member Connor Kilpatrick allegedly hinted that the article was “very good and obviously true.” Suffice to say, it arose anger from trans users: not because Vargas-Cooper wrote it, but because other leftists were agreeing with it.
So let’s break it down.
Womanhood Undefined
Vargas-Cooper’s core argument comes in early, and the rest of the article is based on defending her criticism of trans bodies. More specifically, trans women’s bodies:
The trouble arises when we are asked to concede to the rhetorical demands: when we are told to concede that womanhood is a construction and not a matter of biology; that surgical mutilation is brave; that men who decide to become women are immune from criticism after they’ve taken a certain amount of estrogen; that expression of discomfort is bigotry; and that the cause of women’s political and economic liberation is somehow hindered if we alienate transgendered women or if we discuss the realities of women’s biology.
There’s a paradox here. Vargas-Cooper never explains the distinction between what makes womanhood real for cis women and “fake” for trans women. If most of Western life is defined by social and cultural values (as the second wave is quick to note), then what we understand as womanhood is more sociocultural than it is biological.
Think about intersex identity, which Vargas-Cooper discusses. She argues that sex reassignment surgery for intersex people “[makes] obvious sense,” because the body parts an intersex person is born with that do not match their gender identity can lead to discomfort. One example she uses is Caster Semenya, “who competed in the women’s 800 meter race, was born with a vagina but no womb, no ovaries, and functional but undescended testes that produce testosterone.”
Trans women who undergo hormone replacement therapy change their sex hormone levels so that their levels of both estrogen and testosterone mirror cis women’s levels. She denies the rhetoric behind this while simultaneously saying that “some women are born with a vagina but also undescended testes,” and defending surgical removal of these body parts if a woman chooses to have them removed. So she recognizes these women as women if they undergo therapy and/or surgery, but not trans women who undergo therapy and/or surgery.
This begs the question: where does Vargas-Cooper define womanhood? What makes a woman? Does the need for HRT or the absence of a vagina invalidate womanhood? If so, then menopausal women or women born without a vagina aren’t women. Which, by her own acceptance of intersex identity, blows apart Vargas-Cooper’s reasoning.
Vargas-Cooper seems to think that the concept of “womanhood” is largely defined by biological terms: cis women suffer because they have vaginas. What Vargas-Cooper doesn’t understand is that, more often than not, the problems that women experience as part of “womanhood” are based on gender roles and norms. And gender roles and norms are thrust upon people because of how they are perceived.
Think about this in terms of two trans women on the subway: one who passes, and one who doesn’t. For the trans woman who passes, they are “read” as a woman, which means they face the same misogynistic treatment on a day-to-day basis that cis women face.
Meanwhile, the trans woman who doesn’t pass is scrutinized against the ideals of feminine beauty standards, which, again, means she faces misogyny alongside transphobia while riding the subway. This can run the gamut from judgmental looks to violence.
Misogyny haunts trans women beyond the question of passing, too. Trans women who are accepted and treated as women in their social circles face microaggressions that cis women experience as well. Trans women working in fields such as tech, engineering, or gaming are subject to the same glass ceilings that cis women are (and often in a larger scale due to the trans glass ceiling). Vargas-Cooper downplays this fact, forgetting that internalized misogyny is a sociocultural norm. Instead, she paints a picture of a campus gone mad with political correctness where trans women call the shots.
Rarely, this is the case.
Vargas-Cooper might refute this point by suggesting that trans women did not experience the same level of misogynistic social and behavioral grooming that cis women experienced in childhood. But we did. Trans women experience gender dysphoria and misogyny tied together since birth, it’s just massively internalized due to the masculine gender roles thrust upon pre-transition trans women. This is one reason why transitioning is so traumatic for trans women: we’re forced to confront gender dysphoria, which we’ve spent all our lives running away from.
But the damage Vargas-Cooper is doing isn’t a new trend. Her line of reasoning is the same kind of exclusionary argument that has put down marginalized women for years. It‘s been used against women of color. It‘s been used against lesbians. It’s been used against poor women. It’s a narrow view of womanhood led by the privileged, and narrow views of womanhood have traditionally made feminism less, not more, insightful.
Rebuilding Womanhood
This paragraph at the end of Vargas-Cooper’s piece is worth returning to:
The problem with elevating this kind of personal pursuit — and the disastrous problem with the insipid phrase “the personal is political” — is that somehow the ability to pass as a man or woman is considered “progressive.” As a union organizer who embraces traditional leftist causes like fighting poverty and income inequality and demanding universal access to medical care and child care, I find that the aims of the trans movement amount to a therapeutic endeavor rather than a political one. Yet, alas, therapy, identity, symbols make up the conceptual framework for nearly all contemporary leftist politics.
What’s interesting here is that Vargas-Cooper forgets that political symbols are the framework of political thought.
Nicolai Petro explores this idea very well in his work Crafting Democracy: How Novgorod Has Coped with Rapid Social Change. He reveals how Novgorod, a Russian city rich with history dating back to the Middle Ages, was able to quickly transfer from Soviet communism to democratic capitalism thanks to a legacy of pluralism and trade in the area. Today, the city is a shining example of democratic freedom in Russia. Why? Adapting new street signs and historical legacies helped usher in a transition from communism to democracy. The people found the city’s transition of power was part of the area’s historical legacy. And historical legacies are subject to change.
Symbols and policies walk hand-in-hand, Novogrod reveals. You have to speak to the people in order to sway the public to your side. Vargas-Cooper doesn’t seem to understand that. Which is why her brand of feminism — second wave feminism — has largely faded into the confines of history.
What trans people — and perhaps trans women and gender non-conforming identities most of all — understand is that symbols, concepts, and theories behind gender are important. Our understanding of gender is mired in misogynistic, transphobic, and racist beauty standards. Bodies should be skinny. Bodies should be toned. Bodies should be white. Bodies should be Anglo-Saxon. Men should have cocks and women should have pussies.
But trans bodies fundamentally defy these symbols. And the trans body becomes a political body.
What’s going on right now falls exactly into Petro’s theories on political symbols. Our society is attempting to reject a broad, open interpretation of bodies in exchange for a narrow binary. Vargas-Cooper plays into this battle by arguing for the traditional view, and turns to a conservative publication to espouse it. Despite criticizing political symbols, she’s first and foremost caught in a battle of symbols: trans bodies vs cissexist bodies, progressive brands vs conservative brands.
The reality is this: Vargas-Cooper isn’t the quiet voice questioning the storm. She isn’t the rebel going up against the man. She represents the establishment. She represents the dominant hegemony. And until a trans woman’s body is seen as a woman’s body, until a trans man’s body is seen as a man’s body, then trans bodies will continue to be on the other end of that hegemony.
Because in a game of symbols, it’s winner takes all. And the dominant symbol always wins.
