By: Julian Adorney, Mark Johnson and Geoff Laughton
First, a disclaimer: Many people believe that queer theory is focused on LGBT rights. This is not true. Queer theory is not about granting LGBT people rights; it typically engages with this group primarily because homosexuality has long been considered abnormal. Instead, queer theory grounds itself in opposition to whatever society perceives as “normal.”
This is a crucial distinction, particularly as we discuss the impact of queer theory on children. It would be a grave mistake to infer that our discussion implies opposition to LGB youth. Indeed, if all that queer theorists did was tell non-heterosexual people, “It’s okay that you’re lesbian/gay/bisexual; never be ashamed of who you love or of which consenting adults you choose to date,” then we wouldn’t be writing this article.
Queer theory is on the rise, especially among young people. Increasingly, young Americans are identifying as “genderqueer” or “genderfluid.” In their book Queer Theory, Gender Theory: An Instant Primer, queer theorist Riki Wilchins proudly argues that young people “have pushed the dialog on gender in new and unanticipated directions.” “As the barriers to gender-expansive behavior continue to fall,” Wilchins proclaims, “at least in more progressive areas, increasing numbers of them [young people] are coming out as nonbinary, genderequeer [sic], genderfluid, and a host of other new ‘micro-identities’ for which language is still being created.” A 2023 survey found that only 57 percent of Generation Z respondents agreed with the statement that there are only two genders.
But why is queer theory increasingly being adopted by young people? Is this adoption a good thing? Does it help them to live their highest and best lives? And, if the widespread adoption of queer theory is generally not helpful for young people, what can we do about it? These are the questions that we will set out to answer in this piece.
First, why does queer theory appeal to so many young people? This is the simplest piece of the puzzle. Queer theory positions itself in opposition to the normal. For queer theory, what is considered “normal” in society is actually oppressive, and true freedom requires breaking out of these oppressive norms. As queer theorist David Halperin writes in his book Saint Foucault, “Queer is by definition whatever is at odds with the normal, the legitimate, the dominant.”
The notion of society as an oppressive paradigm that must be opposed appeals to many young people who feel disenfranchised by the current social order. Poet Steve Taylor captured the essence of modern malaise in his poem “It’s hard to be a human being.”
It’s hard to be a human being
when the world is so chaotic that you can’t find your right direction
can’t find a life that aligns with your inner purpose
and you feel inauthentic and unfulfilled
like an actor who hates the role he plays.
Washington Post reporter Taylor Lorenz addressed this discontent less poetically but perhaps more bluntly. She tweeted, “we’re living in a late stage capitalist hellscape during an ongoing deadly pandemic w[ith] record wealth inequality, no social safety net/job security, as climate change cooks the world.”
Young people feel increasingly scared and disaffected, and it’s hardly surprising. They are constantly told that they inhabit the worst of all possible worlds, a world so bad that it would amount to child abuse for them to bring their own children into it (as one CNBC piece put it, “A growing number of people are reluctant to bring a child into a world that’s set to be ravaged by climate change in the coming decades”). Moreover, they spend more time on social media than any previous generation—over 3 hours per day, according to one report. This exposure relentlessly bludgeons them with every global issue and portrays many of their fellow humans as monsters.
They’re also being raised in an environment that is more online and offers fewer opportunities for in-person bonding than any previous generation. A 2018 Adobe report focused on the United Kingdom found that members of Generation Z spent a staggering 10.6 hours per day engaging with online content. After accounting for sleep, that doesn’t leave much time for cultivating in-person relationships. And it shows: a January 2020 study by Cigna found that 73 percent of Generation Zers reported sometimes or always feeling lonely. And that was before a global pandemic shut us all in our homes and conditioned us to view each other primarily as potential sources of infection for two years.
Relatedly, fewer and fewer young Americans are being given opportunities to find themselves. Social psychologist Jonathan Haidt and Greg Lukianoff, president of the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE), discuss in their book The Coddling of the American Mind how young people are increasingly sheltered from risk and exploration. They engage less in free play and more in activities under the stultifying thumbs of well-meaning authority figures. Piano recitals have replaced climbing trees, and games carefully orchestrated by adults have supplanted spontaneous play, where children come together to decide their activities and explore who they are. This is a problem because brains, especially young ones, need obstacles and risks and opportunities in order to fully develop. As the authors write:
The genes get the ball rolling on the first draft of the brain, but the brain is “expecting” the child to engage in thousands of hours of play—including thousands of falls, scrapes, conflicts, insults, alliances, betrayals, status competitions, and acts of exclusion—in order to develop. Children who are deprived of play are less likely to develop into physically and socially competent teens and adults.
All of this is showing up in the data on young Americans’ mental health. An alarming 42 percent of Generation Zers have been diagnosed with a mental health condition, and an astounding 60 percent report using medication to manage their mental health.
Part and parcel to this, queer theory offers struggling young people an easy way out. If you are lonely and struggling with anxiety, it is much easier to adopt an ideology that attributes these conditions to society at large than undertake the difficult (but ultimately more rewarding) personal journey to address them. Queer theory offers a seductive escape, which, despite its appeal, is ultimately destructive.
So, lots of young Americans are lonely, adrift, scared, and depressed. Fewer and fewer know their true selves, which certainly predisposes them to have an interest in queer theory. If we had spent our entire lives feeling lonely and disaffected and scared and anxious, we would be drawn to a theory that challenges everything considered “normal” too.
But can queer theory actually help young people? There are certainly edge cases where it can. Some people feel miserable trying to fit into binary masculine and feminine social norms (the so-called “gender binary”) and feel relief when told that they do not have to. While they could get this same relief from a liberal social order that tells everyone to be themselves without shame, it’s possible that some individuals first experienced this relief via a queer-theory-educated teacher. We want to acknowledge that queer theorist educators can do some good, even though theirs’ certainly isn't the only (or best) game in town to help marginalized young people. Nevertheless, queer theory may also be making the lives of many young people worse. We posit three reasons.
First, queer theory completely rejects the notion of a stable or transcendent Self. As Michel Foucault, one of the intellectual grandfathers of queer theory, wrote, “Nothing in man—not even his body—is sufficiently stable to serve as the basis for self-recognition or for understanding other men.” Wilchins talks about the “impossibility of identity.”
Why do queer theorists reject the idea that we have an intrinsic Self, a true identity that can serve as the foundation upon which to build the house of our lives? Because, for queer theorists, we are all merely products of the culture around us. Wilchins quotes Foucault: “The individual…is not the vis-à-vis of power; it is, I believe, one of its prime effects.” That is, the power of our surrounding culture doesn’t just shape us; it absolutely makes and defines us. We are nothing but a cultural construction made by the dominant paradigm in which we live. Or as Wilchins explains:
We assume the Self is transcendent—it just exists, constant and universal. And we reason from there. It was exactly this certainty that Foucault wanted to attack…Foucault understood how we think of the Self as constructed, no less a cultural artifact than a vase, a chair, or a building.
For the queer theorist, there is no meaningful sense of self. We are merely the product of the power discourses of our culture. There is nothing deeper or more intrinsic to us than that; we are simply “cultural artifacts” like a chair or a building.
The danger of this ideology is hard to overstate. Queer theory takes marginalized young people, who already feel that their house is built on a foundation of sand, and tells them that even the sand is an illusion. In fact, they’re led to believe that everything is an illusion, and they must therefore build their house on empty air.
The second reason that queer theory might hurt the mental and emotional development of young Americans is by disconnecting us from our ancestors and the rest of humanity. As two of us (Julian and Mark) wrote for the Foundation Against Intolerance and Racism:
...among their list of 72 genders, MedicineNet lists “Egogender.” What is egogender? “It is a personal type of gender identified by the individual alone. It is based on the person’s experience within the self.” MedicineNet also lists “Cloudgender: The person’s gender cannot be comprehended or understood due to depersonalization and derealization disorder.” This ideology tells people who already feel alone or isolated that any attempt to connect with others is hopeless, for their immutable characteristics (in this case, gender) make it impossible. A core part of an individual cannot be “comprehended,” “identified,” or “understood” by anyone else.
Even apart from egogender and cloudgender, the proliferation of new gender identities risks isolating adherents off from almost every human who has ever lived. If someone identifies as “Agender”—defined as “a person who does not identify themselves with or experience any gender”—they cannot look back through history to find other agender individuals who achieved great things and feel a connection to them because this gender identity has only recently emerged. A core aim of affirmative action is to show marginalized individuals that people like them (or, at least, who share their immutable characteristics) have accomplished significant feats, suggesting they can do the same. Conversely, queer theory may teach young people that no one like them has achieved notable things—or that there is no one like them at all. For a generation in the midst of a loneliness epidemic, this is unlikely to help.
The third reason that queer theory might be hurting marginalized young people is more direct: some queer theorists deliberately attempt to provoke emotional crises in students. Kevin Kumashiro, in a paper published by the Harvard Educational Review, discusses his experiences as both a classroom teacher and a professor of prospective teachers. He argues that exposure to queer theory can induce negative emotions in some students.
Repeating what is already learned can be comforting and therefore desirable; students’ learning things that question their knowledge and identities can be emotionally upsetting. For example, suppose students think society is meritocratic but learn that it is racist, or think that they themselves are not contributing to homophobia but learn that in fact they are. In such situations, students learn that the ways they think and act are not only limited but also oppressive. Learning about oppression and about the ways they often unknowingly comply with oppression can lead students to feel paralyzed with anger, sadness, anxiety, and guilt; it can lead to a form of emotional crisis.
Kumashiro does not share this observation as a caution against teaching queer theory. Instead, for Kumashiro, the goal is to steer students into these crises. He recognizes that some teachers may be uncomfortable with deliberately inducing such crises in students. However, he argues that concerns for students' emotional well-being are misplaced. According to Kumashiro, what really matters is that students learn to adopt the tenets of queer theory, whatever the emotional cost.
Not surprisingly, some educators choose not to teach such information or to lead students to uncomfortable places. In fact, in response to my presentations on anti-oppressive education in conferences and classrooms, university educators and students have questioned whether it is even ethical to knowingly lead students into possible crisis by teaching things that we expect will make them upset. Felman (1995) suggests that learning through crisis is not only ethical, but also necessary when working against oppression. What is unethical, she suggests, is leaving students in such harmful repetition….Therefore, educators have a responsibility…to draw students into a possible crisis.
Why would a teacher intentionally induce emotional crises in their students? Because, as Felman argues, this approach is preferable to allowing students to independently form opinions that may diverge from those of their queer theorist educators. Kumashiro acknowledges that such a crisis can lead a student in several directions: “some that may lead to anti-oppressive change, others that may lead to more entrenched resistance.” However, he believes there is only one correct path: towards anti-oppressive change; that is, adopting the tenets of queer theory. That’s why educators “have a responsibility” not only to precipitate these crises but also to “structure experiences that can help them work through their crises productively.” Once a student’s views are broken down, they must be built back up into the desired framework. If the cost of all of this is that students are “paralyzed with anger, sadness, anxiety, and guilt,” well, so be it.
This might be starting to show up in data on young peoples’ mental health. A 2021 study by Catherine Gimbrone, Lisa Bates, Seth Prins, and Katherine Keyes, titled “The politics of depression: Diverging trends in internalizing symptoms among US adolescents by political beliefs,” surveyed 12th graders every year from 2005 to 2018, and broke up the results by political ideology. Starting in the early 2010s, depression rates among liberal 12th graders started to rise significantly (conservative 12th graders also experienced an increase in depression, albeit at a slower rate, suggesting a possible role for political ideology). As noted by liberal sociologist Musa al-Gharbi, this uptick correlates with the onset of the so-called “Great Awokening.”
A 2020 Pew survey asked Americans, “Has a doctor or healthcare provider EVER told you that you have a mental health condition?” Over 50 percent of young (age 18-29) liberal women, and over 30 percent of young liberal men, answered in the affirmative. For young conservatives, the numbers are just over 20 percent and over 10 percent, respectively.
Young liberals are those most likely to be influenced by the tenets of queer theory. Clearly, there’s a lot going on with teen mental health, and any decline in mental health within a group is going to have multiple causes, few of which are directly related to a teacher’s ideology or the extent to which students adopt that ideology. However, we should be open to the idea that when queer theory teachers express a desire to induce feelings of guilt and anxiety in their students, they may be succeeding. As al-Gharbi puts it, “to the extent that certain strains of liberal ideology push adherents to perceive people and phenomena as racist, sexist, homophobic, etc.—when they otherwise would not have—this shift can predictably lead to increased levels of anxiety, depression, and other disorders.”
An important caveat accompanies the above discussion: our critique targets the ideology of queer theory, not the individuals who advocate for it. While it’s true that some people across all ideologies may simply want to harm others—and such individuals may be proportionately or even disproportionately represented among educators who teach queer theory—we also recognize people like Riki Wilchins, who (though Julian has taken aim squarely at their ideology in the past) do seem sincere in their desire to help young people at the margins of society. We believe that most proponents of nearly every ideology want to make the world a better place, and this includes most queer theorists. However, regardless of their intentions, queer theory as an ideology seems likely to make young peoples’ lives worse.
So, queer theory draws marginalized students in, and may make many of them feel worse. Fine. But what can we do about it?
First, it’s important not to shame young Americans who endorse queer theory. These are people who are already marginalized, perceiving themselves as victims of an unjust system. Rarely are star athletes or prom queens drawn to a belief system that labels conventional norms as oppressive. These young people do not need to be kicked further while they’re down.
Consider the case of Veronica Garcia, trans-identified male high school athlete who who faced a barrage of criticism on social media after winning first place at the state track and field championships. All three of us hold strong opinions against biological males (even post-transition) competing in female-only sports. But even so, Garcia was only 16 at the time. Attacking Garcia personally will only reinforce their belief that mainstream society is oppressive and is unlikely to spur a reassessment of the foundational claims of queer theory.
While holding firm to important lines regarding who should be allowed to compete in female sports, we should nonetheless treat Garcia with kindness rather than contempt. Viewing Garcia as a vulnerable young person seeking stability allows us to provide the necessary support.
This isn’t just basic decency; it’s also strategically powerful. In his book How Minds Change, David McRaney discusses how people in insular groups are persuaded to leave the group and their toxic beliefs behind. He shares stories of 9/11 Truthers who saw the light and former members of Westboro Baptist Church who found the courage to leave. One key to changing these folks’ hearts, he insists, was how they were treated by the outside world. What truly prompted them to abandon their isolated and fearful worldview were “counterarguments wrapped in kindness.”
McRaney stresses that humans are social creatures with a chief desire to belong. The Westboro Baptist Church, despite its many flaws, offers a sense of belonging to its adherents. So does queer theory. So do regular churches. However, the key to encouraging someone to leave one community is to offer them another welcoming community to join. Leave your own community and spend your life adrift in the wilderness is not a compelling offer. Leave your own community and come join ours, we would love to have you! is. Or, as Mcraney puts it, the people in these cults “couldn’t leave their worldviews behind until they felt like there was a community on the outside that would welcome them into theirs.”
This is particularly potent with queer theory, which attracts marginalized people to it by asserting that mainstream society hates and oppresses them. Showering adherents with contempt is only going to reify their beliefs. If we want to weaken their ideology, our best weapon is kindness.
One way to do this is by helping young Americans who have embraced queer theory find their actual identities. Queer theory takes struggling young people and tells them that there is no self to find. We can counter this by offering a message of hope: everyone has a true identity. It is the deepest and most transcendent part of us, the part that was there when we were knit together in our mothers’ womb and that will persist until we take our dying breath. It can be seen in our purpose and our highest calling, in what lights us up and makes us feel truly alive. It is the foundational essence of us, the one thing that cannot be stripped away even if we lose everything else.
Various spiritual and non-spiritual traditions refer to this core self differently: your True Identity, your highest self, your connection to God. We are not here to convert anyone to any particular worldview; the concept is universal (at The Undaunted Man, Mark and Geoff refer to this true self as simply Self 2). But once you tap into and identify with your true self, the foundation of your life can be built on rock rather than on sand. More to the point when it comes to queer theory: once we find our true identity, the allure of an ideology that posits no meaningful self loses all appeal and is seen as transparently misguided.
Queer theory often takes young people who are suffering, (generally) tries to help them, and (generally) makes them worse. However, if we can view these young Americans as people who are hurt, scared, lonely, and adrift, and if we can offer them open arms instead of a raised fist, we might just provide the help they truly need.
About the Authors
Julian Adorney is a columnist at Reality's Last Stand and the founder of Heal the West, a substack movement dedicated to preserving liberalism. He’s also a writer for the Foundation Against Intolerance and Racism (FAIR). Find him on X: @Julian_Liberty.
Mark Johnson is a trusted advisor and executive coach at Pioneering Leadership and a facilitator and spiritual men's coach at The Undaunted Man. He has over 25 years of experience optimizing people and companies—he writes at The Undaunted Man’s Substack and Universal Principles.
Geoff is a Relationship Architect/Coach, multiple-International Best-Selling Author, Speaker, and Workshop Leader. He has spent the last twenty-six years coaching people world-wide, with a particular passion for supporting those in relationship, and helping men from all walks of life step up to their true potential. Along with Mark, he is a co-founder of The Undaunted Man.