Dr Paul Allen

As the BBC   reported   in April, “JK Rowling has challenged   Scotland’s new hate crime law   in a series of social media posts — inviting police to arrest her if they believe she has committed an offence.” According to the  law , “A person commits an offence if they communicate material, or behave in a manner, ‘that a reasonable person would consider to be threatening or abusive,’ with the intention of stirring up hatred based on the protected characteristics,” which include “transgender identity.” In response, Rowling posted a series of comments on April 1, all with pictures of men who identified as women, before  explaining , Only kidding. Obviously, the people mentioned in the above tweets aren’t women at all, but men, every last one of them. In passing the Scottish Hate Crime Act, Scottish lawmakers seem to have placed higher value on the feelings of men performing their idea of femaleness, however misogynistically or opportunistically, than on the rights and freedoms of actual w

Five years ago, the Oxford City Council in England cancelled me from giving an academic lecture on transgenderism, complaining that it breached the city’s diversity policy. The organizers had timed my address to coincide with Oxford University’s Hilary Term so students could attend; at my lecture, they would hear an alternative to the dogmas of intersectionality they usually encounter in university courses. My lecture was titled: “Feminism Was Women’s Great Enemy — Until Transgenderism Came Along.” That alone was guaranteed to trigger feminists and transgender people in the city of dreaming spires. So, last week, when I saw that Paris City Hall had cancelled two feminists for their book Transmania: enquête sur les dérives de l’idéologie transgenre (Transmania: An Investigation into the Abuses of Transgender Ideology), I felt a rare sense of solidarity with the sisterhood and asked the authors to send me a copy of their 400-page bombshell book. The Kafkaesque World of Transmania Transge

It’s not a matter of  if  but  when . When will students in your church—or even the child in your home—announce same-sex attractions or transgender identities? For some of you, the “when” may have been last week, coinciding with National Coming Out Day. But no matter what day kids come out, Christians need to be ready. We need to know how to demonstrate love without affirmation, kindness without capitulation. Ultimately, we need to know what the Bible says and how to respond. In her article, “ How to Respond If Your Child Comes Out Today ,” Maria Keffler offers advice for Christian parents in this very situation. And she gets practical, providing suggestions for what to say in the moment, even if it’s just, “I need some time to process.”

Eva was in a church luncheon when she got an email from her 12-year-old daughter Grace. (Their names have been changed.) “Mom and Dad, I need to tell you I’m not actually a girl,” she read. “My pronouns are they/them.” Eva couldn’t breathe. She felt like she’d been punched in the gut. She hadn’t seen this coming—in fact, a few months before, Grace had shared on social media her belief that God created people male and female. Back then, Eva was sure that statement was going to earn Grace—who attended a progressive public school—some social problems. Instead, it seemed to blow over right away. “I would’ve gotten bullied,” said Grace, who is now 16. “Instead, they decided to reeducate me. I got invited to groups where all they wanted to talk about was the transgender stuff. Over the course of a few months, I decided I was going to be an agender. And then I ended up deciding I was a boy.” Grace was experiencing what is often called “rapid-onset gender dysphoria,” in which friendship groups

Add caption A close friend called to tell me that I had a new brother. After nearly 20 years as four sons and one daughter, my family scratched another tally mark in the ledger column already chock-full of boys. “Have you heard about Jessah?” she asked. “She just announced on Facebook that she’s transgender .” My new brother, it would seem, is my sister. Jessah is 19 years old, 12 years younger than I am. I was in the hospital when she was born. I spent my middle-school years changing her diapers. She beamed with pride and excitement when my then-fiancée Becca asked her to be a bridesmaid at our wedding, and during the ceremony she looked just as beautiful and twice as proud as the older girls. Becca offered advice when she was learning to put on makeup, when puberty arrived, when she first started noticing and crushing on boys. Today, though, Jessah identifies as a man. “I am not female,” she declared in her coming out announcement. She is legally changing her name to Jace and