Trans Feminism: Recent Philosophical Developments: Talia Mae Bettcher
Trans Feminism: Recent Philosophical Developments: Talia Mae Bettcher
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Abstract
This article introduces trans feminism as an intersectional analysis of sexist and transphobic forms of op-
pressions as well as current and historical feminist and trans conf licts over the inclusion of trans women.
The first half examines recent feminist philosophical efforts to provide an analysis of the concept woman
that is inclusive of trans women. The second examines recent responses to trans-exclusive feminist posi-
tions. The article concludes with an assessment of the current state of trans feminist philosophy and out-
lines challenges for the future.
1. Introduction
The term ‘transfeminism’ was coined by U.S. activists Emi Koyama and Diana Courant circa
1992 (Stryker and Bettcher). It’s now also alternatively written ‘trans feminism’ or ‘trans/femi-
nism’ in English. While the roots of the notion reach back far earlier, Koyama’s ‘Transfeminist
Manifesto’ (2003 [2001]) is generally regarded as a foundational articulation. She sees it as ‘pri-
marily a movement by and for trans women who view their liberation to be intrinsically linked
to the liberation of all women and beyond’ that ‘stands up for trans and non-trans women alike,
and asks non-trans women to stand up for trans-women in return’ (2003, 244). The notion has
subsequently been popularized through the work of Julia Serano’s enormously inf luential
Whipping Girl (2007). The term is also used in different ways in a global context. For example,
‘transfeminismo’ can work as a replacement for ‘queer’. In particular, it ‘might also be understood
as a reaction against the theoretical excesses of first-wave white Anglo queer theory, whose
poststructuralism promoted an abstract concept of political subjectivity’ and, indeed,
‘English as an imperialistic language’ in Spain and some parts of Latin America (Espineira and
Bourcier, 90).
Unfortunately, the discipline of philosophy has been extremely slow to register trans femi-
nism as an explicit point of departure. Even within feminist philosophy, development has been
tiny relative to the veritable explosion of interdisciplinary trans studies over the past two de-
cades. To be sure, there’s been work within feminist philosophy. And at present, there appears
to be something of an emerging literature. The goal of this article is to chart some of these most
recent discussions of trans issues within feminist philosophy. In particular, I focus on analytic
feminist philosophy as practiced predominately in the U.S.A. and U.K., focusing largely on
the analysis of gender concepts.
While feminist discussion of trans issues is certainly far broader than this (Bettcher 2014), this
focus is worthwhile for several reasons. First, as there has, up to this point, been a dearth of writ-
ing in the area, it is important to note what appears to be fairly significant recent developments.
Second, the invalidation of trans identities is a central issue in trans politics, and the analytic work
of feminist philosophers may be able to shed valuable light on it. Finally, as these investigations
into gender concepts and meanings appear to take the English language for granted, it will be
worth considering it within a larger context to see its limitations: I invite the reader to consider
what follows with this ever in the back of their mind. Before proceeding, I outline some of the
basic concepts and issues that pertain to trans feminism.
2. Preliminaries
As outlined by Koyama (2003), trans feminism centralizes the concept of ‘intersectionality’,
originally introduced by Kimberlé Crenshaw. The idea is that (i) there are multiple forms of op-
pression that are often inseparably intermeshed and (ii) once we focus on privilege as well as op-
pression, we can see the intermeshing of racism and sexisms, say, even when there appears to be
no intersection at all. For example, while it may appear that racism has nothing to do with the
kind of sexism to which white women are subjected, racism is highly relevant insofar as they’re
racially privileged.
Trans feminism explicitly proceeds from the recognition of the intersections of sexist and
transphobic oppressions. Although this would appear to centralize trans women, since trans
men are also vulnerable to sexism, transphobia, and the interblending thereof, trans feminism
would be ill-advised to exclude them from its purview. Moreover, there’s a danger in central-
izing the intersection of sexism and transphobia in ways that then marginalize other forms of op-
pression/privilege (e.g. racist and classist oppression/privilege).
Unfortunately, there’ve been impediments to proceeding from a genuinely intersectional
framework. Trans studies and politics (at least in the U.S.A.) emerged in response to versions
of feminism that were expressly hostile to trans people (particularly, trans women). Janice
Raymond’s Transsexual Empire (1979) is one of the most inf luential examples of this. Recently,
conf licts between trans and non-trans feminists over the inclusion of trans women in women’s
spaces have escalated in the U.S.A. and U.K. The so-called ‘Trans Exclusive Radical Feminists’
(‘TERFs’) or ‘Gender Critical Feminists’ have insisted upon the exclusion of trans women from
women’s spaces while denying such exclusions are transphobic. To say the conf licts have been
heated is an understatement. As Lori Watson observes:
The dispute between some self-identified feminists and trans persons, trans women especially, and trans
supporting feminists has erupted into a full-scale ideological war. Once at the level of conflict, officially
undeclared, we have moved into the territory of ‘you are either with us or against us,’ with real threats
against real people – from both sides (248).
The upshot is that besides the intersectional trans feminist approach, there is also an interac-
tive approach, one that raises questions about the relationship between feminist theory/politics
and trans theory/politics viewed as historically and politically distinct. While there’ve been dis-
cussions that explore the intersections (see Bettcher 2007; McKinnon 2014), for the most part,
recent philosophical discussions of trans feminism have proceeded in this second way.
In particular, she argues, accounts that would lead to the ‘misgendering’ of some group of trans
women, if broadly implemented in society, are unacceptable from a trans political perspective.
For Kapusta, misgendering includes the use of gender terms that exclude or marginalize trans
people. Misgendering deployments also include associated descriptions intended to explicate
the meanings of gender terms. Kapusta argues that the misgendering of trans people inf licts psy-
chological, moral, and political harms and that such deployments are always morally and polit-
ically contestable by trans people.
In light of this, she critiques two feminist philosophical accounts of the purview concept.
Linda Martín Alcoff’s account which centralizes the relationship of possibility to biological re-
production rules out most trans women, if not all, Kapusta argues. Family-resemblance analyses,
which specify clusters of salient features, while eschewing necessary and sufficient conditions for
membership, marginalize trans women at best (since they will lack many of the cluster features)
and outright deny them womanhood at worst.1
To be sure, there have been feminist analyses of woman that expressly proceed from a pre-
theoretical commitment to the view that trans women are women and had better count as
women for feminist purposes (many have involved appeals to family-resemblance). In this vein,
two other approaches have recently come into prominence. An ameliorative approach, origi-
nally developed by Sally Haslanger, asks what concept feminists should aim to get people to
use in light of their goals of ending sexist oppression (the ‘target concept’). The second approach,
semantic contextualism, looks to ordinary uses of the term ‘woman’.
Katharine Jenkins offers a critique of Sally Haslanger’s own ameliorative analysis and defends her
own. While Haslanger recognizes gender terms are used in many ways, she adopts a ‘focal anal-
ysis’ in selecting one – hierarchical social classes – as primary. Roughly, she says one functions as a
woman in some context just in case one is subordinated on the basis of presumed female sex
(i.e., the female biological role in reproduction) in that context (Haslanger 235) and that one
is a woman just in case one typically (‘regularly, and for the most part’) functions as a woman
(234). Such an account is revisionary since a woman not so subordinated wouldn’t count as a
woman.
Jenkins shows Haslanger’s account leads to the exclusion of some trans women. Only trans
women typically subordinated on the basis of presumed female sex will count, either because
they’re read as non-trans women or because they’re taken to have altered their bodies in ways
relevant to biological sex. This excludes trans women presumed biologically male – either be-
cause they don’t present publicly as women or because their presentation is viewed as pretense –
as well as trans women regarded as women on the basis of gender identity rather than presumed
biological sex.
Nonetheless, Jenkins endorses the ameliorative project: if trans women are included among
the ‘we’ of the ameliorative project (‘ameliorative agents’, she calls them), the goals of respecting
trans women’s gender identifications will be among those adopted by the group (15). The prob-
lem, she argues, is the focal nature of Haslanger’s account. Thus, Jenkins defends an ameliorative
account with branching target concepts, gender-as-class and gender-as-identity. She argues
both are equally important in providing a feminist account of oppression.
Notably, however, Jenkins’ appeal to gender-as-class will be inadequate in capturing the phe-
nomenon of misgendering, since it builds subordination and privilege on the basis of presumed
biological role right into that appeal. While trans women are often viewed as really men on the
basis of presumed biological sex, they’re often not accorded many privileges on that basis. This
means misgendering should be explained not by appeal to the ameliorative concept of gender-as-
class, but rather a descriptive analysis of how gender concepts are typically deployed in daily in-
teractions. To the extent that Jenkins’ account is designed to capture all forms of oppression
within a feminist purview, it’s insufficient. And this, in turn, raises more general questions about
the scope of work allocated to the purview concept: aside from outlining a feminist purview, it
may be an open question what other work it is supposed to accomplish.
The second approach (introduced above) harbors concerns about the revisionary aspect of ame-
liorative analysis. For example, Jennifer Saul notes that ‘feminists need to communicate success-
fully both with each other and with those who are not (yet) feminists, feminists should want to
avoid large-scale misunderstandings wherever possible’ (197).2 In light of this, Saul turns to an
analysis of the meanings of gender terms as they’re actually deployed in ordinary practices.
She argues that political intuitions can have an impact upon one’s philosophy of language. In
particular, she argues that the commitment to doing justice to trans women’s claims can impact
one’s analysis of the meaning of ‘woman’ (a consequence she acknowledges is rather surprising
from the perspective of mainstream philosophy of language). She argues against an account of
‘woman’ in terms of biological sex on the grounds that it wouldn’t do justice to self-identifying
claims of trans women (particularly, those who have not had surgical procedures).
So Saul proposes a semantic contextualist analysis as a possible solution according to which
there are multiple contexts which determine multiple membership-determining features. There
are contexts in which the relevant feature for correct application of the term ‘woman’ involves
‘sincerely self-identifying as a woman’ (201), and there are other contexts in which the relevant
feature involves ‘having XX chromosomes’ (203). Thus, whether a trans woman counts as a
woman depends on which standards are relevant in a given context. Saul raises problems with
this account, however. One concern is that it does justice to trans women in only a trivializing
way, since claims that trans women are not women are also true in certain contexts. Indeed,
claims Saul, questions around trans women using women’s public restrooms, for example, will
have to be settled by extra-semantic moral and political considerations.
Esa Diaz-Leon has recently refined Saul’s contextualist account to address this concern by
distinguishing between ‘attributor-contextualism’ and ‘subject-contextualism’. In the former,
factors relevant to determining context depend on the person making the claim and include
the attributor’s own beliefs about relevant standards. In the latter, the relevant factors principally
concern the ‘objective’ features of the context in which the subject of the claim is located. Diaz-
Leon argues for the latter, claiming that ‘the relevant standards at issue in a context are those that
are relevant for practical purposes (where these are broadly conceived to include theoretical, pruden-
tial, moral, political, and even aesthetic values).’ Thus, the moral and political considerations that
Saul deems extra-semantic are included within the analysis of how the contextually shifting
term ‘woman’ operates. With regard to the use of public restrooms, argues Diaz-Leon, trans
women will count as women, since identity rather than biological sex is most relevant for those
practical purposes, and anti-trans claims (‘She’s not a woman’) won’t be true after all, since their
beliefs aren’t relevant to the assessment of the claim.
While a full discussion of the view is beyond our scope, it’s worth noting some concerns.
First, insofar as this account allows for contexts in which trans women don’t count as women,
it’s vulnerable to Kapusta’s concerns about the misgendering implications of feminist philosoph-
ical accounts. The context Diaz-Leon (p. 247) offers as an example in which biological sex de-
termines membership (the medical screening for vaginal disease) is precisely the type that
Kapusta cites as contestable (p. 508–9). To be sure, Diaz-Leon recognizes that the relevant con-
textual moral and political considerations in such a medical context may determine that trans
women are women even in that context. But, given the force of Kapusta’s concerns, it’s difficult
to imagine any context in which misgendering would be acceptable. This would require that
‘sincere self-identification’ be the sole determining feature in all contexts, undermining the ac-
count as contextualist. Such an analysis would also strain credibility as an account of the actual
meaning of ‘woman’ as ordinarily used in the mainstream. It would, rather, seem more like
an ameliorative analysis.
Second, while biological sex may not be practically relevant in cases of restroom use, there are
other germane cases in which it appears to be – for example, sexual relations. Unfortunately, it’s
precisely such contexts that often yield the greatest violence against trans women (along with
misgendering and accusations of ‘deception’). Many trans women with ‘penises’ regard them-
selves as women entering into heterosexual relations with men. However, it will be challenging
to see how their beliefs are vindicated in subject-contexts that, on the face of it, would deter-
mine them as men or at least as ‘not women’ on the basis of the relevance of biological sex.
One of the things this discussion suggests is that more attention must be paid to the oppressive force
of certain transphobic discursive practices and the semantics that inhere therein. One strategy to
accommodate this oppressive force can be found in my ‘multiple meanings’ account (2013,
2014). I recognize that sometimes ‘woman’ can be used in ways that are expressly non-inclusive
or marginalizing of trans women (typically in mainstream society) and that it can also be used in
trans-friendly cultures in ways that centralize trans women as paradigms of womanhood. That is,
I argue, terms such as ‘woman’ have multiple meanings that are under political contestation.
Drawing on the work of María Lugones, I situate these multiple meanings and the underlying
social practices sustaining them in multiple, but overlapping, ‘worlds of sense’.
Like contextual accounts, this account allows that under some interpretations, trans women
do not end up counting as men, while in others they do. It is different, however, in identifying
the invalidating or marginalizing interpretations as inherently oppressive and the solidly inclusive
ones as resistant. The position is also more extreme than a contextualist account in claiming that
the relevant difference doesn’t concern the variability of contexts in determining the extension
of the term, but rather, a difference in ‘worlds of sense’ in which the term ‘woman’ has multiple
contested meanings and discursive practices. In trans-positive worlds, trans women are con-
structed as women in all possible contexts, while in worlds that are oppressive to trans people,
in any given context, trans women are at best constructed as marginal women.
It is worth noting that one of the benefits of the multiple meanings account is that it allows
for the possibility that English terms can also have ‘second order’ non-English meanings that
contest that taken for granted status of English (Bettcher, 2014). That is, terms like ‘trans
woman’ may be used by speakers in ways that recognize the forced translational work being
done as well as dissonances between the non-English meaning and the English ones. In this
way, certain discursive practices (even ones that resist trans oppression) can be shown oppressive
to the extent that they presuppose English as default and then foreclose the possibilities of resis-
tant, non-English meanings. It is difficult to see, by contrast, how the other accounts could ac-
commodate such a phenomenon.
At any rate, recognizing the existence of oppressive (transphobic, sexist, racist,
linguistically hegemonic) discursive practices along with practices that contest them has some
notable consequences with regard to the two other approaches described above. First, any pur-
view concept will necessarily be ameliorative to the extent that it departs from dominant op-
pressive discursive practices. Any further project of bringing about an actual change in
existing discursive practice (a rather difficult enterprise for academicians alone!) would need
to be sensitive to and partially guided by the revisionary practices that already exist ‘on the
ground’. Second, any analysis of ordinary discursive practices would need to be clear whether
it was drawing from already existing resistant practices or oppressive ones. And merely drawing
from resistant practices alone would be insufficient: it would be theoretically and politically im-
portant to understand the oppressive discursive practices in order to combat them. In my view, a
broader, intersectional analysis would be required to understand such practices.
Rachel McKinnon has recently engaged with anti-trans feminists by examining what she calls
‘TERF propaganda’ in light of Jason Stanley’s work on the general topic of propaganda. In do-
ing so, she adopts the first approach (or, perhaps, takes the second approach as having reached
successful completion). She writes, ‘I take it as now well established that trans women are
women. Full Stop. Thus the f lawed ideology … at the heart of this propaganda is that trans
women are men.’
McKinnon argues that while ‘TERF’ propaganda conforms to Stanley’s account in that it is a
false ideology (designed to justify the dominance of some group), it can also be used to pose a
challenge to Stanley’s account. Stanley argues that propaganda can be used to convince an
oppressed group that their state is warranted. Drawing on feminist standpoint epistemology,
McKinnon rightfully points out, however, that it’s unlikely that oppressed groups will fall prey
to the propaganda since ‘they live the alternative ideology and develop it themselves.’ It’s more
likely, she argues, that others will adopt it, since they may well lack epistemic access to this al-
ternative ideology, and in their positions of relative power, make decisions that are ultimately
harmful to the oppressed.
A good example provided by McKinnon is the claim of some transphobic feminists that trans
women are sexual predators who effectively rape women by entering women’s spaces (such as
women’s restrooms or women’s music festivals). Such a claim is easily empirically falsifiable. As a
matter of fact, trans women don’t use the restroom to spy on other women or to threaten them
with rape; they use it to pee in a safe environment. Certainly, trans women are generally not
tricked into thinking that they have predatory motives. However, as McKinnon correctly sug-
gests, there is a real concern that the uninformed public will accept such propaganda as truth and
work to legislate against trans women’s access to women’s public restrooms.
More controversially, McKinnon cites as an example of false ideology, anti-trans feminists’
claims that ‘TERF’ is used by trans women as a slur against them. She rightfully notes that
the term did not originate with trans women themselves and that therefore any anti-trans
feminist claim that trans women developed the expression to use against them is false. Part of the
issue, however, concerns whether the expression continues to be used as a mere abbreviation for
a description of a position (i.e., Trans-Exclusive Radical Feminist) as it was originally coined or
whether it has also acquired a derogatory use. The issues here are delicate – consider the expres-
sions ‘Republican’ or ‘liberal’. While these terms originated as mere descriptions of political po-
sitions, in some contexts, they can obviously be used as put-downs. One important question is
how frequently they are used that way. And the question appears pertinent regardless of whether
the term now formally constitutes a slur or not.
At any rate, it’s not a good expression to use if one wants to have a conversation (i.e. adopt the
second approach). Thus, Watson writes of ‘TERF’: ‘I avoid that term because I want to address
those who disagree with me on terms that will allow for open and honest listening, and labeling,
as such, often shuts down those pathways’ (p. 252). It’s clear that the term ‘TERF’ has at least
become offensive to those designated by the term and this raises questions around its use in such
contexts. Consider, for example, that ‘tranny’ had originally possessed an affirming,
empowering use among trans women – at least in some trans communities, in much the way
that ‘queer’ has been used for empowerment. Nonetheless, the term has also become highly of-
fensive to many trans people, and the fact that it is still used by some trans people in an affirming
way doesn’t change the fact that it is offensive to others. In light of this, it seems reasonable to
refrain from its use in ‘mixed company’. With regard to ‘TERF’, it seems that caution should at
least be deployed in case one wants to have a conversation across deep difference. This seems
particularly important since much of trans politics is deeply committed to the importance of
self-naming and respect for self-identities.
Both Lori Watson and I have recently adopted the second approach by attempting to respond to
arguments designed to exclude trans women from ‘woman’. Unlike the highly theoretical ar-
guments discussed in the first section of the paper, part of Watson’s argument is experiential –
she writes as a non-trans woman who usually passes as a man and, consequently, is familiar with
some of the double-binds and harassment that trans people face with regard to restroom use, for
example. She doubts anti-trans feminists would expect her to change her identity or her sex to
conform with the way the world reads her. Yet, she argues, this is precisely the expectation they
place on trans women: ‘live your life as a socially recognized man, make your body and gender
conform’ (250–1).
Importantly, Watson confronts the argument that because trans women have not been social-
ized as women/girls since birth, they don’t have the necessary conditions for counting as
women. Here, the argument can best be understood to concern resistant feminist uses of
‘woman’. That is, in light of their experiences with sexism and the oppressive notions of ‘wom-
anhood’, feminists have attempted to politically re-deploy the term in resistant ways. Indeed, in
some cases, alternative terms such as ‘womyn’ were introduced to f lag such resistant departures.
In my view (2016), the basic idea behind the argument is that the self-identifying use of a term
in resistance to oppression is political and semantically constrained. Consider a white woman with
no history of experiencing racial oppression who claims the identity ‘woman of color’. Not only
would this be appropriative, it isn’t clear what content the self-identification would even have
since the very meaning of the resistant term is given by a history of oppression to which it is a
response. Similarly, goes the argument, trans women who claim ‘woman’ have not had the history
of sexist oppression to which such a resistant identification could emerge as a response.
Part of the concern is that many trans women have received early male socialization. This
yields a worry that they have ‘male privilege’ and are hence excluded from resistant uses of
‘woman’. (Already the expression ‘male privilege’ is problematic, it would be better to simply
ask whether trans women have certain privileges as a consequence of their being trans.) Watson
rightly argues that trans women rarely have any male privilege conferred upon them once they
transition. Those who pass as non-trans are on the receiving end of male privilege, not the en-
actors of it. And trans women who don’t pass as non-trans, even if they’re viewed as ‘really
men’, scarcely find that they receive any male privilege. The question is whether receiving male
socialization earlier is somehow disqualifying. One worry that Watson considers is that such so-
cialization will yield a masculine psychology that takes male privilege for granted. Watson
rightly argues that this is an unsubstantiated empirical claim: ‘As such, all we may be dealing with
here is a hasty generalization possibly premised upon confirmation biases. But no doubt plenty
of people can be jerks, being trans* doesn’t immunize a person from any of the behaviors, we all
as humans, display at one time or another.’ (253)
The question, however, is whether early male-socialization de-legitimates the resistant up-
take of ‘woman’. And Watson rightly notes that many trans women will have experienced their
socialization with great discomfort – an experience they rejected and reject, so that appeal to
male-socialization is already problematic. However, insofar as part of male privilege involves
simply avoiding some of the unhappy features of female socialization (e.g. early
girlhood sexualization), while avoiding this is a privilege, it’s also something that no trans
women (or any other rational person) should regret not having experienced.
In answer to the question whether the failure to have girlhood experiences of sexism, at
least among some trans women, means that ‘woman’ cannot be resistantly claimed, Watson
points first to the diversity of women’s experiences with socialization – particularly as
inf lected by distinct forms of intersecting oppressions. Trans women’s experience of social-
ization may just be one of many. This point can be extended, as Koyama argues, by pointing
out that the assumption that all women’s experience be homogeneous is inherently racist in-
sofar as it eschews the diversifying impact of intersecting oppressions upon women’s expe-
riences (2006).
Second, Watson argues that the question is not what relation trans women bear to other
women, but ‘to men, to the forms of male power that function to subordinate women on
the basis of sex’. Trans women are oppressed due to their sex in a multitude of transphobic ways,
she points out. And ‘[i]f subordination on the basis of one’s sex is central to the social and po-
litical meaning of woman, and it is,’ argues Watson, ‘then what can possibly be the response
to denying that trans women are precisely in this position?’ (252).
On the face of it, this seems to echo Haslanger’s position discussed in the previous section
and would also seem to lead to the consequence that trans men are also women (in a
political sense), since they’re likewise subordinated on the basis of sex.3 However, I take
Watson to be making the point that shared history of gender oppression licenses the uptake
of resistant terms in a variety of complicated ways. Her claim is that the argument above fails
on the grounds that trans women do have an experience of gendered subordination that pre-
cisely licenses that uptake.
The argument is a powerful one. However, one concern is that in blending together multiple
forms of gender-based oppression under a common umbrella, distinctive forms of gender-based
oppression are erased. Indeed, if not handled with delicacy, such a move could lead to the re-
duction of trans oppression to the oppression of women. And this would foreclose the possibil-
ity of examining how various forms of gender oppression can intersect with each other. Pressing
in this way, however, also runs the risk of re-invigorating the argument: if trans women expe-
rience socialization as males and manage to escape some of the damages of girlhood, then is it
not the case that they are foreclosed from claiming the category ‘woman’ in resistance to a lifetime
experience of sexist oppression?
I have argued that terms like ‘woman’ can be given different resistant deployments to differ-
ent sort of oppression (2014, 2016). Consider, for example, that ‘woman’ has been used in
highly racialized ways that either exclude women of color as central paradigms or marginalize
them in other ways. In such a case, claiming womanhood in a resistant way may, in part, be re-
sponsive to racial oppression rather than sexist oppression (or to both). Similarly, I claim,
‘woman’ can be claimed in resistance to abusive mainstream gender practices that give rise to
the particular nature of trans oppression (2016).
My account of oppression centers on the invalidation of trans identities as specifically situated
within an appearance/reality contrast (e.g. ‘really a man, disguised as a woman’, ‘really a woman,
living as a man’) and the related double-bind of being regarded as deceptive or else as merely
pretending (2014, 2016). In my view, this invalidation arises from organized gender practices
(in particular, the constitution and negotiation of gendered intimacy and
interpersonal distance) in mainstream society.
Trans claims to be women and men, I argue, can be seen as resistant insofar as they’ve been
disconnected from these abusive practices. The very struggle of trans people to be regarded by
others in ways conforming with their identities (and even their struggles to embrace their
own identities) is invariably informed by this appearance/reality contrast and the deceiver/pre-
tender bind: trans oppression is deeply intermeshed with the entire process of transition, includ-
ing coming out to oneself in the first place (Bettcher, 2017). Consequently, it seems to me, the
very work of transition is, of necessity, resistant – resistant in a way that provides for the possi-
bility of claiming ‘woman’.
Crucially, however, I have also argued that these invalidating practices are deeply intermeshed
with sexism and racism (2007, 2014) as well as surgical violence against people with intersex con-
ditions (2016). In other words, the specific practices of oppression to which trans redeployments
of ‘woman’ are directed afford complex resistant redeployments that are responsive to highly local,
intersectional, forms of oppression. This strongly suggests the importance of recognizing that re-
sistant trans redeployments of ‘woman’ are scarcely univocal, but rather, polyvocal.
5. Conclusion
Much of the emerging literature in trans feminist philosophy, in particular, the work being done
by non-trans feminists, has centered on ‘the trans woman question’ (i.e., are trans women
women? And if so, how?). While the work is certainly important, one danger confronting this
focus, particularly as discussed in the second section, is that the real-life hazards which trans peo-
ple face may be overshadowed by a preoccupation with a trans-inclusive semantic or conceptual
analysis. Consider, for example, that because both Jenkins’ ameliorative approach and Diaz-
Leon’s contextualist approach do so much work trying to include trans women within the pur-
view concept, they are largely inadequate in understanding the transphobic nature of prevalent
mainstream discursive practices that exclude them. But one wonders, once we have found the
right way to include trans women within the purview concept, are we done because we’ve
‘solved the puzzle’? Or is there more work to do? And if so, what is that work? And who is going
to do that work? Depending upon how these questions are answered, trans women are at grave
risk of becoming mere counter examples in a purely theoretical enterprise that has very little to
do with understanding and combating transphobic oppression.
One of the central tensions here concerns the type of questions that trans women raise for
feminist theorizing. On the one hand, the leading question may be: ‘What impact does the
existence of trans women have on feminist theorizing, and in particular analyses of the pur-
view concept?’ This question makes most sense when posed from a perspective that has
already been preoccupied with purview questions well before trans people appeared on the
radar. On the other hand, and this is emphasized in the work of Kapusta, and McKinnon,
and myself, the leading question may be: ‘How should we understand and address
transphobia? And how might this require a re-thinking of feminism?’ Such a question typically
arises when one has had the experience of negotiating transphobia and has a strong stake in
addressing it. In this respect, Watson’s approach is notable; while she undertakes the ‘trans
woman question’, she does so from an intimate experience with analogous invalidation, and
she aims to contest the exclusion of trans women through argumentative means. That is,
her goal is primarily political (combating trans exclusion), rather than primarily conceptual.
What types of motivations will guide these feminist philosophical investigations in the future?
Will feminist philosophizing become a truly trans feminist philosophizing? If so, how will it en-
gage (or not engage) with transphobic versions of feminism? To what extent will trans feminist
philosophy centralize the intersections of multiple oppressions, including race, class, and linguis-
tic hegemony? And at what point will it become more self-conscious of its global locations? At
present, all of this remains to be determined – and some of it seems a long way off. But given the
increasing discussions around trans issues in feminist philosophy, this much is clear: the answers
are beginning to take shape.
Short Biography
Talia Mae Bettcher is a professor of philosophy at California State University, Los Angeles, and
she serves as the department head. Some of her articles include ‘Evil Deceivers and Make-
Believers: Transphobic Violence and the Politics of Illusion’ (Hypatia, 2007), ‘Trapped in the
Wrong Theory: Rethinking Trans Oppression and Resistance’ (Signs, 2014a), and ‘When
Selves Have Sex: What the Phenomenology of Trans Sexuality Can Teach about Sexual Ori-
entation’ (Journal of Homosexuality, 2014b). With Ann Garry, she co-edited the Hypatia special
issue ‘Transgender Studies and Feminism: Theory, Politics, and Gender Realities’ (2009). With
Susan Stryker, she co-edited the Transgender Studies Quarterly forthcoming special issue ‘Trans/
Feminisms’ (2016). She is currently at work on a monograph entitled Personhood as Intimacy: A
Trans Feminist Philosophy. Bettcher has also been involved in Los Angeles trans community or-
ganizing for over fifteen years and serves on the newly established Transgender Advisory Coun-
cil for the City of Los Angeles.
Notes
* Correspondence: Cal State LA – Philosophy, 5151 State University Drive, Los Angeles, CA 90032-8114, USA. Email:
[email protected]
1
There have been many different family-resemblance accounts of ‘woman’ defended in the feminist philosophical
literature. For a list of some, see Kapusta (2016).
2
See Mikkola (2009) for a full articulation of this argument.
3
Thanks to Ann Garry for this point.
Work Cited
Alcoff, Linda Martín. Visible Identities: Race, Gender, and the Self. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.
Bettcher, Talia Mae. “Evil Deceivers and Make-Believers: Transphobic Violence and the Politics of Illusion,”Hypatia: A
Journal of Feminist Philosophy 22: 3 (2007): 43-65.
——. “Trans Women and the Meaning of ‘Woman.’” Philosophy of Sex: Contemporary Readings 6th edition. Eds. Alan Soble,
Nicholas Power, Raja Halwani. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield, 2013. 233-250.
——. “Trapped in the Wrong Theory: Rethinking Trans Oppression and Resistance,” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and
Society 39: 2 (2014): 43-65.
——. ‘Intersexuality, Transsexuality, Transgender.’ Oxford Handbook of Feminist Theory. Eds. Lisa Disch and Mary
Hawkesworth. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2016. 407–427.
——. ‘Through the Looking Glass: Trans Theory Meets Feminist Philosophy.’ Routledge Companion of Feminist Philosophy.
Eds. Ann Garry, Serene J. Khader, and Alison Stone. New York: Routledge, 2017. 393-404.
Crenshaw, Kimberlé. “Demarginalizing the Intersection of Race and Sex: A Black Feminist Critique of Antidiscrimination
Doctrine, Feminist Theory and Antiracist Politics,” The University of Chicago Legal Forum 140 (1989): 139-167.
Diaz-Leon, Esa. “‘Woman’ as a Politically Significant Term: A Solution to the Puzzle,” Hypatia: A Journal of Feminist
Philosophy 31:2 (2016): 245-256.
Espineira, Karine and Bourcier, Hélène/Sam. “Transfeminism: Something Else, Somewhere Else,” Transgender Studies
Quarterly 3:1-2 (2016): 86-96.
Haslanger, Sally. Resisting Reality: Social Construction and Social Critique. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012.
Jenkins, Katharine. “Amelioration and Inclusion: Gender Identity and the Concept of Woman,” Ethics 126: 2 (2016):
394-421.
Lugones, María. Pilgrimages/Peregrinajes: Theorizing Coalition against MultipleOppressions. Lanham, MD: Rowman and
Littlefield, 2003.
Kapusta, Stephanie. “Misgendering and Its Moral Contestability,” Hypatia: A Journal of Feminist Philosophy 31:3 (2016):
502-519.
Koyama, Emi. ‘The Transfeminist Manifesto.’ Catching a Wave: Reclaiming Feminism for the 21st Century. Eds. R. Dicker and
A. Piepmeier. Boston: Northeastern University Press, 2003. 244–259.
——, “Whose Feminism Is It Anyway? The Unspoken Racism of the Trans Inclusion Debate.” Eds. Susan Stryker and Ste-
phen Whittle. The Transgender Studies Reader. New York: Routledge, 2006. 698-705.
McKinnon, Rachel. “The Epistemology of Propaganda,” Philosophy and Phenomenological Research, forthcoming.
——. “Stereotype Threat and Attributional Ambiguity for Trans Women,” Hypatia 29:4 (2014): 857-872.
Mikkola, Mari. “Gender Concepts and Intuitions,” Canadian Journal of Philosophy 39:4 (2009): 559-583.
Saul, Jennifer. ‘Politically Significant Terms and the Philosophy of Language: Methodological Issues.’ Out from the Shadows:
Analytical Feminist Contributions to Traditional Philosophy. Eds. S. L. Crasnow and A. M. Superson. Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 2012.
Serano, Julia. Whipping Girl: A Transsexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity. Emeryville, CA: Seal Press,
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Stanley, Jason. How Propaganda Works. NJ: Princeton University Press, 2015.
Stryker, Susan and Talia M. Bettcher. ‘Editors’ Introduction.’ Transgender Studies Quarterly 3.1-2 (2016): 5–14.
Watson, Lori. “The Woman Question,” Transgender Studies Quarterly 3:1-2 (2016): 248-255.