In a decision that has sent the chattering classes into a frothing, apoplectic frenzy, the United States Supreme Court has ruled that female athletes might, just possibly, deserve a sporting chance that doesn't involve competing against biological males. The ruling, which borrows heavily from the British playbook of 'having a modicum of common sense,' endorses single-sex sports protections that will no doubt cause uproar among the sort of people who believe reality is a social construct best debated over a quinoa salad.
One can almost hear the collective wail from the progressive think tanks, a sound like a thousand participation trophies being thrown into a skip. The Court, in its infinite wisdom, has decided that Title IX, that grand old dame of educational equality, does not actually mandate that men be allowed to compete in women's events. A radical concept, I know. Next they'll be telling us that water is wet and that the sky is, in fact, blue, regardless of how you identify.
Let us take a moment to savour the sheer, unadulterated irony of a US court adopting a British standard. The same nation that once threw our tea into Boston Harbour, that prides itself on exceptionalism, is now gratefully accepting the paternalistic wisdom of Her Majesty's judiciary. Perhaps they'll start drinking warm beer and apologising for the weather. But I digress.
The facts are these: for years, female athletes have been quietly obliterated in their own sports by male-born competitors who, through the simple act of going through male puberty, have enjoyed a skeletal and muscular advantage that no amount of 'inclusive language' can overcome. The Court has finally said, 'No more.' They have declared that protecting women's sports is not bigotry, it is basic fairness. It is the sort of thing that used to go without saying, like not setting fire to orphanages or using a fork as a backscratcher.
Of course, the inevitable backlash has been swift. We have already seen the usual suspects, the gender-studies lecturers and the blue-haired activists, decrying this as a 'transphobic' assault on human rights. They will argue that sport should be about 'inclusion' and that losing is a valuable learning experience, conveniently forgetting that the entire point of sport is to win, unless you are a Tottenham fan. The idea that a woman might want to compete on a level playing field, to test her mettle against other women, is apparently an archaic notion that offends the postmodern sensibilities of those who have never broken a sweat in their lives.
But the Court has spoken, and the law is now clear: if you have a Y chromosome and a testosterone advantage, you cannot simply declare yourself female and start collecting gold medals. This is not a victory for hate, it is a victory for the girls who have worked their whole lives only to be beaten by someone who used to be called Steve. It is a victory for science, which has inconveniently discovered that biology is not, in fact, a bigot. And it is a victory for anyone who believes that words like 'woman' and 'female' still have meaning, even if that meaning requires a dictionary rather than a Twitter poll.
So raise a glass of something stiff, ladies and gentlemen. The Supreme Court has done something sensible. It may never happen again, so let us savour this moment. The penguins of March have marched, and they have delivered a snowball to the face of absurdity. Now, if only someone would do something about the state of airport gin.
