The Tragedy of Tribalism

Why Protecting Our Children Should Transcend Party Lines

Over many years seeking to protect children and young adults from the harms of gender medicine we have seen plenty of support for our cause from media outlets that are perceived to be right of centre. I am grateful for such exposure. However, I see no reason whatsoever for left-leaning publications, and for politicians on the left to discount mine and Our Duty’s messages. Our Duty is avowedly apolitical, we represent over 3,000 families without discrimination. Our constituency reflects broader Western society, and indeed nurturing such a diversity of views is exactly what a thriving peer-support network needs. It helps keep us all grounded. We know that objectivity is the route out, and objectivity is not the sole preserve of right or left. But:

In an age where every issue seems to come preloaded with a red or blue label, the debate over how best to protect children and young adults from harm has become yet another partisan battleground. Nowhere is this more evident than in the fractious discussions around transgender ideation and the associated beliefs, identities, and medical interventions that have surged into public consciousness over the past decade. In the United States, the fault lines are stark: Republicans decry "gender ideology" as a threat to innocence, pushing bans on puberty blockers and “gender-affirming care” with near-unanimous party-line votes, while Democrats champion these interventions as a lifeline for vulnerable youth, framing opposition as bigotry.

Across the Atlantic, the UK mirrors this divide, albeit with its own nuances: Conservative voices increasingly question the Tavistock Clinic’s legacy, while Labour stalwarts defend transgender rights as an extension of social justice. What’s lost in this tug-of-war is the possibility that protecting adolescents might not—or should not—be a matter of picking a team. This tribalism isn’t just a quirk of electoral politics; it’s a symptom of something deeper. Civil society—those sprawling networks of charities, schools, health services, and cultural institutions—seems increasingly captured by a singular narrative: that transgender identity must be affirmed swiftly and unequivocally, even in the young. From Stonewall’s influence on British policy to the American Academy of Pediatrics’ near-monolithic stance on medicalising transgender ideation, dissent is rare and often punished. But why?

One uncomfortable observation stands out: these sectors are overwhelmingly staffed by people who lean left. In the UK, for instance, surveys like those from the Higher Education Policy Institute show academics skew heavily progressive; in the US, education and healthcare workers donate to Democrats over Republicans by wide margins. This isn’t a conspiracy—it’s a demographic reality. And it raises a question: has the dominance of left-leaning voices in these fields shaped a monoculture where challenging transgender ideology feels like betrayal? The result is a paradox.

Progressives, historically the champions of scepticism toward authority and dogma, now find themselves defending a medical and social framework that’s remarkably rigid. Consider the case of puberty blockers, once touted as a reversible “pause button” for distressed teens. Emerging research—like the UK’s Cass Review—has cast doubt on their safety and efficacy, highlighting risks to bone density, brain development, and fertility, alongside scant evidence they improve long-term mental health. Yet, to question their use is to risk being branded a reactionary, a Tory, a Trumpist. Meanwhile, conservatives, often too quick to arrive at the solution without winning over their critics, exacerbate the sense of polarisation. Both sides dig in, and the kids caught in the middle—confused, vulnerable, desperate for guidance—become collateral damage in a culture war they didn’t start.

This isn’t how it should be.

Protecting adolescents from harm—whether from inappropriate medical decisions or from untreated distress—ought to be a shared mission, not a partisan litmus test. Imagine a different approach: one where we pause to ask what we don’t know about the long-term impacts of transitioning young people, without fear of excommunication from our political tribes. The data demands it. In the UK, referrals to gender identity services have skyrocketed—up 1,700% for girls in a decade—often accompanied by complex comorbidities like autism, trauma, or depression. In the US, studies like those from the National Institutes of Health show many gender-questioning teens desist naturally if given time. Yet policy races ahead, propelled by ideology rather than evidence, while parents and clinicians who voice objectivity are drowned out by the roar of party loyalty.

If we are honest, the left has a unique responsibility here—not because it is right to care about the health and wellbeing of adolescents, but because its dominance in civil society gives it outsized power to set the tone. The progressive instinct to protect the marginalised is noble, but it’s not infallible. History offers cautionary tales: from lobotomies to thalidomide, well-meaning interventions have harmed when evidence was sidelined for moral certainty. Today’s rush to affirm young people’s gender identities, often with irreversible steps, will inevitably join that list. Adolescence is a tempest of self-discovery that deserves patience, and a concerted effort to keep futures healthy and open.

So let’s step back. Let’s demand a conversation that isn’t owned by Labour or the Tories, Democrats or Republicans. Let’s insist on policies rooted in science, not sentiment—policies that safeguard every child. This isn’t about winning a culture war; it’s about ensuring that in 20 years, we don’t look back with regret at a generation we failed because we were too busy picking sides. Compassion shouldn’t come with a party membership card. Neither should the truth.