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There’s little hard data so far about the impact of the $215 million or so in anti-trans ads unleashed by the Republican Party in the final weeks of the campaign. But pundits and politicians are already coming to some (premature) conclusions: that the Democratic Party should have distanced itself from trans communities; that, on the contrary, wholeheartedly endorsing trans rights could stem future Democratic losses; that Republicans found a potent message with which to paint their opponents as too far outside the American mainstream.
That ongoing debate—and the political strategy that will follow—will keep the trans community front and center. And the upcoming arguments before the Supreme Court over Tennessee’s ban on gender care for minors—the Skrmetti case, scheduled for arguments on December 4—will keep driving headlines.
The recent success of Rep. Sarah McBride—the first openly trans member of the House—offers an example of a more nuanced electorate. But her victory isn’t without challenges: Rep. Nancy Mace, Republican of South Carolina, has already introduced a resolution to bar McBride, a Delaware Democrat, from using the women’s bathroom in the Capitol, deliberately misgendering her as a “biological man.”
One way or another, trans people—our lives, our rights, our place in the world—will not disappear from political discussion and coverage.
The policies targeting us, our lives, and our interests cross a broad range of beats—health, sports, education, civil rights—as well as the rest of society. Journalists trying to cover us with accuracy and nuance will need broad expertise to work against a backdrop of blatant lies, misleading information, and missing context.
Beware easy narratives
There’s little doubt that the anti-trans message had some impact.
But how much, and why, and what to do about it, remains uncertain.
Already Democrats are musing about whether they should distance themselves from some policies, notably support for trans girls’ participation in sports. Rep. Dean Phillips of Minnesota, who briefly challenged Biden for the Democratic nomination, told the Washington Post, “It is clear as the sky is blue that some of these positions have alienated millions and millions of Americans.”
Those make for quick reaction stories, but the polling suggests that public opinion is far more complicated. One analysis from a Kamala Harris super-PAC found that one thirty-second spot shifted viewers 2.7 points in Donald Trump’s favor. But other post-election polling from battleground states shows that seeing the ads didn’t sway voters’ choices for senator, or that voters identified other, more motivating issues. More broadly, most Americans oppose discrimination against trans people and support laws that protect them from it. Last year, more than two-thirds of Americans polled said they don’t want trans athletes on girls’ and women’s teams, yet just the year before that, 59 percent said they opposed banning trans girls from sports.
Which is to say, views change, messaging matters, and how polls are worded can create significant shifts. As with any subject we cover, our readers deserve a complete, nuanced, and accurate picture of trans lives. It’s our duty as journalists to question assumptions and resist oversimplified answers.
Watch for political language
Anti-trans advocates have had remarkable successes in changing the language and framing around trans issues.
US Rep. Tom Suozzi, a New York Democrat, told the New York Times that he didn’t think “biological boys” should be in girls’ sports—a framing that was, until recently, isolated to the right. Likewise, Rep. Seth Moulton, a Massachusetts Democrat, said he feared that a “male or formerly male” athlete would run over his daughters on a playing field. Biology is complex, and there’s a push, now being played out in some of the anti-trans legislation introduced at the state level, to define “man” or “woman” or “sex” for legal purposes. Calling a trans girl a “biological boy” is a political choice, not unlike describing a candidate as “pro-life” or as “anti-abortion.” These descriptions are loaded, partisan shorthand, and journalists should see them as such.
Sometimes, this politicized language—like “mutilation”—is obvious. Sometimes, it’s subtler. When someone says LGBTQ+ people are “transitioning children,” it implies that something is being done to them. That trans children, or trans people broadly, cannot choose a path for themselves—a callback to anti-gay “recruitment” rhetoric of the past. The form of a single verb, “transition,” may seem insignificant, but it carries a lot of weight.
Watch for these phrases. Take caution when you hear or use such language, as you would with any other politically charged topic. Our style guide contains an entire section on some disputed phrases.
Chase the story, not the quote
Resist amplifying the most extreme and outrageous voices simply because they make for good copy. As a look at historical coverage of vaccines, climate change, and extremism shows, it has long been best practice to apply a critical eye to the voices we directly quote, especially when they spread misinformation.
Don’t credulously repeat talking points from the coordinated, documented networks of targeted misinformation. Cover their statements—sparingly—when they’re newsworthy, and paraphrase wherever possible if you want to show their positions. But focus less on what they say and more on why they say it—and on what happens to people because of that rhetoric. Follow the money and put these political initiatives in broader context.
When covering extreme views, especially, take cues from Nieman Reports, the Center for Journalism Ethics, the Columbia Journalism Review, Poynter, and other experts.
Consider the context
Politicians often make broad statements about trans people, some true, some misleading, and some completely false. Much of it needs context.
If legislators spend hours debating whether to ban trans girls from high school sports, it may be useful to ask how many trans athletes there actually are in that state, how successful they are, and whether anything being said about their participation is backed by fact. In Kansas, there were three trans girls known to be playing high school sports in 2022–23; in Florida, there were thirteen in the eight years up to 2021. And in West Virginia, there was one in 2021. Meanwhile, student athletes, cis and trans, are having their gender questioned by their competitors.
When officials cite reviews and studies to bolster their positions, a quick Google search will often yield other studies that can provide broader context or different perspectives. If you read the much-cited Cass Review in Britain, for example, also consider the Yale-led critique of it.
Seek the details
Up until now, much of the coverage on anti-trans activity has focused on the hundreds of bills filed in the vast majority of US states. These initiatives aren’t disappearing—as evidenced by the Texas legislature’s prefiling of thirty-two anti-trans bills in mid-November. But with federal power consolidated in the hands of the party that ran a flood of anti-trans ads, attention should expand to how government agencies might now wield their wide-ranging authority at the federal level.
What restrictions might health agencies impose on access to gender-care medication? How will the Department of Education reinterpret Title IX? What requirements might the State Department place on changing gender markers in passports? How could rules change about which bathrooms people can use in federal buildings, or medical care for federal retirees? And so on.
At the national scale, these actions will have consequences everywhere. No publication or beat will be exempt.
Remember that the story matters
It may be tempting to think of this as a niche story about the roughly 1 percent of people who are being targeted directly by US politicians. But attempts to legislate trans lives have also led to far-reaching consequences for all of society, transgender or not.
The Supreme Court case litigating restrictions on trans youths’ medical care could threaten access to healthcare for anyone with a medical condition. Pronoun notification laws in Indiana caused chaos for parents of any child with a nickname. The state of Montana put $7.5 billion in federal funding at risk by revising its constitution to redefine “sex.” The frenzy over Algerian boxer Imane Khelif at the Paris Olympics showed that anyone who doesn’t fit Western gendered stereotypes, especially women of color, can become a target of anti-trans activism.
Four in ten US adults say they know someone who is transgender. We’re in people’s communities; we’re members of society. We’re not theoretical. Anything that affects us affects everyone. There’s a dire need for pieces that cover that, too.
Ask for help
The Trans Journalists Association is the only trans-led association of transgender, nonbinary, and gender-expansive journalists. Several dozen trans journalists launched the organization in 2020 to build a community that fosters accurate, nuanced coverage of trans communities and the issues that affect them.
Since then, we’ve grown to more than four hundred active members—from newsroom staffers to independent publishers, across media. We’ve engaged more than nine hundred gender-diverse journalists from around the world through our online resources and virtual spaces. We also train newsrooms, do industry outreach and education work, and create tools for trans journalists.
Our style guide offers guidance to help navigate common reporting dilemmas, political language, and additional reading.
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