Gender Ideology: Assigned at Birth

One of the more subtle ways in which a gender ideology seeks to devalue biological sex is the propaganda seeking to use the phrase "sex assigned at birth" as if the doctor is making a subjective judgement about the babies sex, rather than observing a biological and objective reality. It is like saying “the baby’s eyes are blue” and saying that’s “assigning eye colour at birth”.

It is done, I am sure, with the best of intentions, to defend trans people. And I wholly agree that trans people must have legal rights which can be protected, which is a core of Jersey's discrimination law about protected characteristics regarding gender reassignment. But this must be done by the law, not by distortions of science purveyed as truth. I know several trans people who have undergone gender reassignment surgery and I would be appalled if they suffered prejudice because of that, and I suspect that in some parts of society, they do. 

But inclusivity means welcoming everyone. It does not mean altering facts to suit everyone. In fact, because "assigned at birth" is not based on sound science, it is like a house built on sand, and will leave open a door to undermining the rights of transgender people.

It is an insidious practice which is replacing the truth of science with social constructs, and has been creeping, almost invisibly, into medical training. 

Here are definitions which illustrate this::

Sex assigned at birth” means the male or female designation that doctors ascribe to infants based on genitalia and is marked on their birth records.

Instead of saying “biological sex,” some people use the phrase “assigned male at birth” or “assigned female at birth.” This acknowledges that someone (often a doctor) is making a decision for someone else. The assignment of a biological sex may or may not align with what’s going on with a person’s body, how they feel, or how they identify.

But this is comprehensively debunked by an article by Alan Sokal and Richard Dawkins -“Sex Assigned at Birth”: The medical establishment betrays science, logic and common sense

The link to the full text is given afterwards, but here are the main points:

"Sex in all animals is defined by gamete size; sex in all mammals is determined by sex chromosomes; and there are two and only two sexes: male and female. All this is, of course, hardly news: it has been known for over a century, and it is basic stuff from any half-decent high-school course in biology. For sure, quirks of mutation or prenatal development may leave some individuals unable to produce viable gametes at all. But an infertile individual with a Y chromosome is still male, just as a one-legged person remains a full member of our bipedal species."

"Much is speciously made of the fact that a very few humans are born with chromosomal patterns other than XX and XY. The most common, Klinefelter syndrome (XXY), occurs in about 0.1% of live births; these individuals are anatomically male, though often infertile. Some extremely rare conditions, such as de la Chapelle syndrome (0.003%) and Swyer syndrome (0.0005%), arguably fall outside the standard male/female classification. Even so, the sexual divide is an exceedingly clear binary, as binary as any distinction you can find in biology."

And then they explain how a babies sex is not assigned but observed:

"A baby’s name is assigned at birth; no one doubts that. But a baby’s sex is not “assigned”; it is determined at conception and is then observed at birth, first by examination of the external genital organs, and then, in cases of doubt, by chromosomal analysis."

Can this be mistaken? Doctors are fallible.

"Of course, any observation can be erroneous, and in rare cases the sex reported on the birth certificate is inaccurate and needs to be subsequently corrected. But the fallibility of observation does not change the fact that what is being observed — a person’s sex — is an objective biological reality, just like their blood group or fingerprint pattern, not something that is 'assigned'."

And they highlight that there is a patent dishonesty about this terminology, which stems from good intentions - to protect the rights and feelings of transgender feeling. But this is not the right way to go about it, by perpetrating lies:

"The medical establishment’s new-found reluctance to speak honestly about biological reality most likely stems from a laudable desire to defend the human rights of transgender people. But while the goal is praiseworthy, the chosen method is misguided. Protecting transgender people from discrimination and harassment does not require pretending that sex is merely 'assigned'. 

"It is never justified to distort the facts in the service of a social or political cause, no matter how just. If the cause is truly just, then it can be defended in full acceptance of the facts about the real world; if that cannot be done, then the cause is not just."

https://physics.nyu.edu/faculty/sokal/dawkins-sokal_v3d.pdf

The Modern Faust

A look at the unfolding politics of the world, as seen from a senior devil writing to a junior, as a homage to C.S. Lewis.

The Modern Faust

Screwtape, it is a while since I wrote to you,
And while global events are not our purview,
But individual souls, destined to be taken here,
A strange change in the world has given fear
To so many, of the stranger, fleeing war to peace:
The outsider, and here our work does not cease,
But builds upon fear and loathing of the other,
Losing sight in numbers of children and mother,
Wailing in the massacre of the innocent by bomb
With even less compassion than after Somme;
But putting their country first, then family next,
We see that they have been so corrupted, so hexed,
That they even see it as Christian teaching now,
And charity begins at home becomes their vow,
As they snatch aid from the poorest of the poor,
And seek to slam against them a solid door;
They have instead despised the humble and meek,
And kept riches to themselves, not for the weak,
Their souls do magnify Our Father Below today,
As they lose all the truth in what they say;
We bend them to call out for free speech,
Unleashing those who would just hatred preach;
All that matters to them is to make a deal,
And power so enables them to steal,
All that is good and honest and true;
Despise compassion, tear asunder the glue,
That with law brings justice down to bear,
Because, Screwtape, they just do not care;
Making the deal is all they aim to win,
And they have long ago lost sight of sin,
Much to our advantage, but not theirs:
We can steal away empathy and cares,
And make it seem a sign of the strong,
As they lose sight of right and wrong;
The modern Faust, so keen for a deal:
It is child’s play their souls to steal!

1965 - 60 years ago - March Part 1

1965 - 60 years ago - March Part 1

1.—In the early hours of this morning, show-cases at the Quatre Bras Hotel, St. Saviour's Hill, were forced and watches, cigarette lighters and leather goods valued at nearly £60 stolen.---Jersey Green Room Club presents "Hobson's Choice " at the Opera House.—Jersey Welsh Society hold annual St. David's Day dinner at the Savoy Hotel.

2.—Hotel, Caterers' and Allied Trades Exhibition officially opened at West Park Pavilion, 49 exhibitors taking part. —Original Jersey Overseas Contingent (D Company 7th Bn. Royal Irish -Rifles) celebrate golden jubilee with dinner attended by His Excellency the Lieut.-Governor, the Bailiff and other distinguished guests.

3 Explosion which occurred this morning at Ronez Quarry, St. John, wrecked the boiler house of the asphalt-making plant.

4.—The 15-ft high cast-iron lighthouse -structure on Gorey Pier crashed into the sea yesterday evening when part of the jetty was torn away in heavy seas at the height of a Force 8 south-south-easterly gale; what remains of the pier is badly undermined and extremely dangerous. About 200 telephone lines were brought down and flying at the Airport was cancelled soon after 6 p.m. Buildings were shaken and people awakened by an earth tremor lasting 40 seconds in the early hours of this morning.

5.—Annual dinner of local branch of the R.AT., the principal guest being Air Commodore H B Martin, D.S.O., D.F.C., A.F.C., A.D.C,, to the Queen.—Jersey Debating Club motion "That the attitude of the Church on the nuclear question is a breach of faith” defeated at fortnightly meeting held at the Pomme d'Or Hotel. Jersey Spring Flower Show staged at West Park Pavilion. -

10.--At the annual meeting between the Tourism Committee and the Island hoteliers it was announced that the committee was not unanimous in its views on the development of Fort Regent.—A hotel manager and his wife who sued the proprietors of l'Auberge du Nord for £428 10s. on the grounds of wrongful dismissal were today awarded £28 8s. by the Royal Court.—Verdict of accidental drowning recorded at inquest on the body of 23-month-old Kenneth Bucket, who fell into a. shallow fishpool in the garden of his home.

11.—The president of the National Union of Teachers' guest at Jersey Teachers' Association dinner at Hotel de France.--Following an-anonymous telephone call (which proved to be a hoax) the second house audience at the Odeon Cinema was asked to leave temporarily while police searched the building for a supposed bomb.

12.—A verdict that she died from a pulmonary embolus following accidental burning recorded at the inquest on Mrs. M. Q. Pearson, of Noirmont View, St. John.—At St. Mary, Mr. C. C. de Gruchy was elected Centenier for that parish. —Strong team from the Plymouth Schools A.B.A. defeats Jersey Colts Junior A.E.C. by eight bouts to five at the Opera House.

16.—Combined Rotary and Inner. Wheel dinner-dance held at the Hotel de France.

17.—St Helier parish assembly approves Assistance Board estimates totalling £151,175, an increase of £27,270 on the previous year.—Verdict of suicide recorded at inquest on, a 37-year-old French quarry worker, Rene Louis Faury, found hanged in the room he rented at St. Oxen.

Pathways to Spring

Although a bit muddy, the path to the mill is always a delight. Walking there recently, it is an old pathway, and many people must have gone that way in times past. The trees, birdsong and the way in which just for a short while, one is cut off from the world of cars, mobile phones and technology and just can enjoy nature in a small piece of wild. Here is a poem about the walk I did recently, and it is actually following the rhyming scheme of a well known Easter hymn. See if you can guess which one!

Pathways to Spring

To the mill, the rough pathway
The trees so very tall
Branches where the birds do hide
But we do hear their call

The ancient path, such tales must tell
If only we could hear
The whisper in the breeze for us
That meets us over there

The joy this dappled day has given
So beautiful and good
A glimpse in part of lovely heaven
The journey through the wood

Such small pleasures, just enough
That spring will now begin
The daffodils rising by the gate
And birdsong welcomes in

Our natural world enfolds in love
And hope is still there too
And trust in glory there above
As walk the path we do.

Corrine Le Marquand at The Windmill

A Topical Look Across the Bar
Corrine Le Marquand at The Windmill

(Jersey Topic 1967)

"ME? I like playing hell!". A blunt answer from the equally blunt owner of Jersey's 500¬year-old Windmill Inn, red-haired, mini-skirted Mrs. Corrine Le Marquand: "And a game of roulette when I get the chance," she added.

Gambling is a form of relaxation for her, she went all the way to Tangier to play her last game: "That was a holiday, but it made me realise the potential of opening a casino here."

And if the Bailiff was to give his kind per-mission, she would be just as successful at gambling as she is in catering for the thirsts of 1,000 tourists every day.

But the story of Corrine Le Marquand's success began indirectly 500 years ago, in 1472. This was the year some long-forgotten miller became a capitalist, and built a windmill that even the brave Don Quixote would hesitate in tackling.

Towering 75 feet in the air, and with foundations five foot six inches thick, the mill was built entirely of genuine Jersey granite. Inside, the original woodwork and beams can still be seen, although the first wheel was replaced 200 years ago.

Later, this massive wheel was to be dismantled, sawn in half and converted into two bars.

However, for years before this, the windmill had stood silent and empty. Then the Nazis arrived. They found a new use for the mill, as a watchtower—and then left in rather a hurry.

The mill had fallen into disuse again. In despair the owner was about to put an advert in The Times, when he had an offer. An unnamed price was agreed, and a piece of Jersey history changed hands.

A transformation then took place. All three storeys were converted into bars; the cellar bar; wheel bar, and blue bar. A car-park and beer garden were added; floodlighting installed, and a playroom added for children.

Profits climbed higher and higher: "I never talk about money," she says, "I just like making it. It's my favourite occupation."

Flippant but firm, she has earned the respect and friendship of tourists and locals alike. Her only regret is that her husband is not alive to share her success. He died in 1961. A tragedy that would have seen a lesser woman shirk her responsibilities, and sell the Windmill Inn.

But she didn't. She was determined to make a go of it, and working a 15-hour-day, seven days a week, she more than succeeded.

Now, with Huck and Slush, a Norwegian Elk-Hound and Finnish Spitz respectively, she is beginning to relax: "I enjoy a spot of decorating even if I am lousy at it. I also paint, but I'm no Van Gogh. I also like gardening, but my hands were designed for pulling pints and not weeds."

A Message to the Stars

Listening to an Archive on 4, "Carl Sagan: A Personal Voyage". Professor Brian Cox looks back at the work of his all-time science hero, the American astronomer Carl Sagan. As well as a well respected science career, Sagan is best known for his work in bringing the joy and wonder of science to as wide an audience as possible. And who can forget that theme music for Cosmos!

Sagan was also responsible for the "message to the stars" records. Flying aboard Voyagers 1 and 2 are identical "golden" records, carrying the story of Earth far into deep space. The 12 inch gold-plated copper discs contain greetings in 60 languages, samples of music from different cultures and eras, and natural and man-made sounds from Earth. They also contain electronic information that an advanced technological civilization could convert into diagrams and photographs.

 

You can hear the show at:
Archive on 4: https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b00jkv2j

So today a more optimistic poem.

A Message to the Stars

The record sent off into deepest space
Within Voyager’s journey to distant star
A tale told of our earth, our own place
In the cosmos, a blue dot seen afar

A present from a small distant world
A token of sounds, science, images
Our thoughts and feelings unfurled
Into the vast cosmos, our seven ages

Music sounds across the ocean of night
Songs of distant earth, emotion’s voices
A glimpse of humanity, of a candle’s light
And pray that we make the right choices

A message to the stars, the cosmic deep
Rejoice! And Carl Sagan’s vision keep

Lt.-Col. Philip Le Gallais

Lt.-Col. Philip Le Gallais

A Topical series, by Andrew Gilliam, of the distinguished military men and women of the Channel Islands

(Jersey Topic 1967)

IT WAS A WARM DAY in St. Helier on July 19, 1871. A young boy stared at a group of brilliantly dressed officers and men of the Island Militia and in his mind were sown seeds of ambitious military ambitions.

Years pass. The sun slowly sets over the South African town of Pretoria. British troops are dusty and tired but elated. The year is 1900. The men, under the command of Lord Roberts, had taken the undefended town and this had given them a much needed taste of victory and a sense of satisfaction.

In the administrative buildings General Lord Roberts sits at a long table reading reports. He knows that the struggle is far from over. The Boers are the masters of commando warfare and they rarely risk fight¬ing a formal battle. They used their knowledge of the terrain to maintain a supremacy which is causing anxiety and embarrassment not only to Lord Roberts but also to the whole British nation. But the idea of British troops adopting tactics to suit the terrain is still foreign to the High Command.

Some miles from Pretoria a lone figure on horseback, wearing bush clothing and high riding boots, is observing the distant camp fires. Suddenly he hears a crackling amongst the trees some distance behind him. His hands move swiftly to his rifle. After a minute or two he recognises the silhouette of a known messenger. The man advances and salutes. The whispered message is in Afrik-aans .... papers pass between them. The horseman now knows that a force, under the British Commander, Ian Hamilton, is coming to Pretoria.

Lord Roberts was also studying a report which gave him this news. He recognises one name, the name of a man whose sole purpose would be to seek out one Boer general.

The general—the horseman who had earlier been spying on the camp—was Christian de Wet, and his appointed hunter was the Jerseyman, Lieutenant-Colonel Philip Le Gallais.

The wheels of fate had been set in motion and the two men were now set on an inevit-able and fatal course of collision.

De Wet had been harassed for several months by various groups under the command of General Lord Mathueu. But, in the hun¬dreds of square miles of undulating veld, de Wet had managed not only to avoid capture but also to maintain liason with the various groups under his command, and with the ever-moving Boer leaders. He hounded the British over a vast area: an unexpected swoop on a body of Imperial Yeomanry at Lindley, inflicting heavy casualties, cutting lines of communication, destroying railway lines and even ambushing and forcing the surrender of a militia battalion of Derbyshires near the Rhenoster.

Days pass, and soon various detachments of British troops are on their way out into the veld to begin the search for de Wet. Lieutenant-Colonel Le Gallais has decided to search the Valsch River area as intelligence reports have indicated that de Wet might be approaching the area with a view to raids into the Cape Colony area.

With great care, avoiding obvious trails and tracks, Le Gallais heads towards the Valsch River. At night they pass by small camps of Boers and make detours to avoid skirmishes. There are no other British troops in the area, and for once, the element of surprise is with the British. Le Gallais wishes to use this powerful weapon in a most devastating way—if only he can find de Wet.

Next day General de Wet and a detachment of commandos head off toward the Cape Colony. November 5, 1900. The sun has set and de Wet is giving orders for the setting-up of camp not far from Bothaville and within sight of the Valsch river.

There has been a slight skirmish with some British troops earlier in the day. De Wet was sure that they were merely a scouting party

he had had negative reports from his scouts as to the possibility of a large British detach¬ment in the area:The scouting party were seven miles to his rear and in the morning his troops were to split up.

But Le Gallais had patiently waited all day with his unit on hiding, across the river in front of de Wet.

All day the Jerseyman had thought on the situation. To confront de Wet in open battle would be futile as de Wet would merely fan out his troops. The terrain did not even lend itself to an ambush that would work. De Wet's superior weapons and fresh horses gave him too many advantages. Le Gallais could not risk sending a messenger around to the scouting party which did not know of his presence. Capture of the messenger would remove any element of surprise.

So he decided on an early morning attack with his men in fixed positions on either side of the valley. He planned to take enough men across the river and station them on either side of de Wet's camp and to leave a front line of troops in his present position. He hoped to give the impression that the encamp-ment was surrounded and force de Wet to surrender. Le Gallais also hoped that the scouting party at the rear of the enemy would quickly appreciate the situation once the firing broke out and would advance.

Throughout the night the Jerseyman moved his men slowly down the slope, across the river, and up to the positions he had chosen. A hot sticky night with the threat of a storm in the air. With extreme delicacy Le Gallais' men moved amid the constant noise of bush animals and insects. Sweat pours down and soaks the men's tunics .... even the river is lukewarm and unrefreshing. Soon all is ready, Le Gallais is within sight of his finest hour.

There is a deadly hush over the valley. It is a few moments before sunrise and a slight steamy mist rises from the river. And then ... shots ring out. Bullets pour into the Boer camp from 300 paces.

Immediately the Boers are awake and seek-ing shelter as best they can. De Wet has hurriedly dressed and is out trying to organise his men. He fears the worst. He feels caught in a situation in which he himself has caught others. There is chaos everywhere .... men seeking shelter from the deadly rain, others trying to mount horses or trying to reach the heavy Krupp guns. Men fall about him. Bullets tearthrough the undergrowth, ricochet off tree trunks and hit his men with terrifying rapidity.

For five hours the battle rages .... the Boers fighting for their very survival and receiving no quarter from the attacking force. The three-quarter encirclement is slowly closing in on the Boers. Le Gallais is there slowly bringing de Wet closer to capture or a fighting death.

The air is full of smoke and dust, shouts and cries. Then, General de Wet gets a message. There are no British at his rear. There are no troops waiting to advance in on him. The way is clear for retreat. But word spreads fast and within minutes Boers are leaping onto horses and there develops even greater chaos. De Wet tries desperately and unsuccessfully to halt his fleeing men.

Le Gallais, seeing the enemy pulling back, instantly realises that his bluff has been called. The scouting party had long since withdrawn. His horses are across the valley. He now sees that de Wet is slipping away and he must make one last desperate attempt. He advances down the short slope and, in their hundreds, his men follow.

  

De Wet sees this and he himself retreats at a gallop. Le Gallais' men are unable to follow and, in that final charge the Jerseyman is fatally wounded.

Of Lieutenant-Colonel Philip Le Gallais Christian de Wet was later to write "Without doubt one of the bravest English officers I ever met."

Munich Revisited

A very pessimistic poem, contemplating recent world events, and looking back at the past. J.D. Vance in a speech in Munich has just said that "Democracy rests on the sacred principle that the voice of the people matters" in advocating that the strident far right parties in Europe reflect the voice of the people, and this is all that matters. It seems that nowadays, all kinds of hate speech, gross malice and intolerance are justified by freedom of speech.

He seems not to have read John Stuart Mill: “The will of the people, moreover, practically means the will of the most numerous or the most active part of the people; the majority, or those who succeed in making themselves accepted as the majority, consequently, may desire to oppress a part of their number; and precautions are as much needed against this as against any other abuse of power.”

Munich Revisited

Peace in our time, but the price of peace?
Maybe that the fighting will come to cease,
Only because the rise again of dark forces,
As if once more the stars in their courses,
Warned of evil times, of no friendly word:
But only that the politics of hate are heard;
Immigrants looked at with loathing, fear:
Violence erupts to destroy all we hold dear;
The strident tones of past dictator’s ghost,
Raising strange salutes, with a new toast
To a time of chaos. The centre cannot hold,
When the demagogue sounds forth bold,
To tear up the rules of law, and fight,
And like the red weed infested blight,
Spread across the world. Things to come,
Beginning with the beating of the drum,
And then war? Who can tell, who can say?
An avalanche tearing forth without delay,
Destroying all in its wake. Speak out?
Voices drowned with fear and doubt;
And no one to speak truth to power,
But to give obeisance, and just cower;
As into times of chaos we now fall,
Will not one person stand up tall?
The world carved up like a cake
And truth and justice do forsake.