Hi Hubski:

My name is Katherine O'Brien. Despite best efforts, I am a human being - a real, honest-to-god human being made of all the things that human beings are made of - that exists in the real world, and I have some assholes opinions that I want to share.

I am 25 years old, which means I came to use Hubski when I was about 15. I've known a lot of you for over half my conscious life. You're all like the neighbors that I wave to sometimes on the way to work, or the uncles and aunts that I half-remember at family reunions. Isn't that weird to think about?

I tend to use Hubski now as a place to complain, to write my little diary entries in Pubski threads every once in a while, to poke my head in chat and tap out something I hope is pithy - but not to contribute to thoughtful discussion. Why is that? I'm keyed into the news and I'm interested in politics and all that, and I read the bits and bobs of discussion on here as a lurker. So what's the deal?

I've been biting my tongue for a long time to keep the peace, just like you would do when your neighbors put up the wrong yardsign. I don't want to get into arguments with people I've known for so long who I respect dearly. But I am losing my respect for my neighbors.

The fundamental lie that we like to tell ourselves is that it is possible to be neutral: the virtuous thing to do when discussing the controversial is to be generous, to cover both sides, to play devil's advocate, to end conversations with a pat on the back and a smile. At the end of the day, we're all friends. We joust at each other, but the lancetips are blunted. We say that we can separate ourselves from the world of politics. We cannot.

Objectivity is a myth. The pretense of objectivity is a luxury. We all have skin in the game - some of us more than others - and lately a lot of hides are getting chapped on here. This isn't the death of civil discourse or social media brainwashing us into partisans: this is the death of an entire worldview, one based around the consensus that history is dead, that all we have left to do is tweak and manage and let democracy do its thing. This is the Big American Lie.

Here's how it works in the specific. In a debate, the person who is able to maintain the appearance of objectivity is the correct one, and the person who loses their cool is a symptom of insert-your-favorite-theory-of-societal-decline-here. This means that the person with more skin in the game, in any discussion, will be the first to crack. The trope of the crazy activist is a reflection of this.

I have skin in the game. I am a trans woman living in a time where transness is more "up for debate" than ever. We are the constituency that you can still just-ask-questions about, the people who are stealing the precious resources of real women, the predators tricking children into mutilating themselves, the ones ruining fair play in everything from sports to dating apps to affirmative action programs. These debates are not academic to me. To be trans, I am constantly forced to prove that I exist as a real human being and not a caricature of one. I am forced to keep my cool in conversations with people that have no idea what being trans is like who dictate to me the terms of engagement. If I get too heated, I am the one poisoning the discourse.

Right now, the clear, levelheaded question-askers are running the show. The leading intellectuals of our time are asking innocent questions like "is rapid onset gender dysphoria causing thousands of little tomboys to think they're men?". I can't remember how many ads I saw before the election about SEX CHANGES FOR CRIMINALS, but I do remember seeing one on an ER waiting-room TV. It was surreal.

But all that is just me losing my cool. How can what I say be objective if I'm the one actually experiencing the discrimination? By my nature, I am disqualified from civil discourse.

It's a lie, guys. Polite society was always evil. We dogwhistled and kept things academic so we could still all be neighbors. The people who could not were the ones who were more often the topic of conversation than its participants. Now that we can't be silenced, the people who hate us don't need to use dogwhistles anymore.

I am done with civility. It was never for me. I will be kind, but I will not turn the other cheek. Arguing doesn't make me feel good, but I would rather spit out poison than keep swallowing it.