TL;DR
- Brandon Andrew Robinson argues against sexual identity labels.
- Labels may limit pleasure and connection.
- The current political climate complicates the discussion.
- Robinson advocates for broader coalition-building.
- The future could be a world without restrictive labels.
The LGBTQ+ movement built labels for survival. Now, they’re being weaponized against us. As we navigate a world increasingly hostile to our identities, scholar Brandon Andrew Robinson (they/them) is stirring the pot with a radical idea: what if we just ditched the labels altogether?
Robinson, chair and associate professor of gender and sexuality studies at the University of California, Riverside, recently published a book titled Trans Pleasure: On Gender Liberation and Sexual Freedom, where they boldly argue that sexual identity categories do more harm than good. Sure, “gay” is an easy label to throw around, but does it really capture the full spectrum of our desires?
As someone who has struggled with labels myself, I can relate. “Pansexual” feels closest to home for me, yet it wasn’t even a term in my vocabulary growing up in the conservative Deep South. So, why do we feel the need to box ourselves in? Robinson’s take is that these labels limit our pleasure and connection. “Identities limit us,” they assert, and the ever-growing list of sexual identities—gynosexual, finsexual, sapiosexual—only proves that we’re still trying to find the right box to fit into.
In a time when anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment is on the rise, Robinson’s argument may seem ill-timed. After all, we’ve built a community around these identities, and now we’re facing attacks that seek to erase them. Just last month, reports showed that over 1,400 federal grants were canceled for containing words like “gay” and “LGBTQ.” Talk about a slap in the face!
But Robinson insists that the push to abolish these labels is a necessary step toward liberation. They argue that focusing on identity can actually hinder coalition-building among marginalized groups. For example, why not unite those fighting for trans rights with those advocating for reproductive justice? These issues are not mutually exclusive, and Robinson believes that organizing around shared experiences rather than rigid identities could lead to more effective activism.
Of course, this isn’t without its challenges. The notion of tossing aside our identities feels like asking us to disarm in a world that’s already trying to erase us. But Robinson pushes back, arguing that the real threat comes from a system that privileges white, cisgender, heterosexual identities over all others. Abolishing sexual identities isn’t about surrendering; it’s about dismantling the very structures that oppress us.
Imagine a world where we could express our desires freely, without the constraints of labels. Robinson envisions a future where flirting with anyone—regardless of gender—is simply about connection, not categorization. It’s a tantalizing thought, but also a daunting one.
While I cherish my queer family and the identities we’ve fought hard to establish, I can’t help but wonder if Robinson’s vision could lead to a more inclusive and liberated future. After all, isn’t the ultimate goal to create a space where everyone can love and be loved, without the baggage of labels holding them back?
As we continue to grapple with the complexities of our identities, perhaps it’s time to consider whether these labels are helping us or hindering us. Robinson’s call for a reimagined approach to pleasure and connection may just be the radical shift we need in these turbulent times.
