September 29, 2024 - 8:00am

The late Labour statesman Tony Benn divided politicians into Signposts and Weathercocks. He noted that the former “show the way” no matter how unpopular their stance, whereas the latter “hasn’t got an opinion until they’ve looked at the polls, talked to the focus groups, discussed it with the spin doctors.”

Yesterday, the Labour Party lost a Signpost. After years of being slighted, sidelined and slurred, Rosie Duffield MP ended her decades-long membership of the party and is now an independent. In a scorching resignation letter, the Canterbury MP blasted Keir Starmer for “sleaze, nepotism and apparent avarice”. “How dare you take our longed-for victory, the electorate’s sacred and precious trust, and throw it back in their faces,” she railed.

Duffield no doubt feels a tremendous sense of relief in having put clear green carpet between herself and the freebie-seeking fashionistas on the front benches. By daring to be a Signpost, by standing-up for women’s rights in the face of fanatical trans activists, she has been monstered by those who should’ve been on her side. Not only has the Prime Minister cold-shouldered Duffield, despite her winning what was once a Tory safe seat, but she has faced such grotesque threats that she has had to pay for her own security.

Some former colleagues are crowing over Duffield’s departure. Within hours of her resignation, Nadia Whittome MP posted on X that Duffield had “made a political career out of dehumanising one of the most marginalised groups in society.”

What Duffield has suffered has, of course, happened to countless others who have had the courage to publicly say that people can’t change their sex. To question “trans inclusion” policies in the workplace or simply to request a medical professional of the same sex, is to risk one’s career and friendship circle. So, what might Duffield’s departure from the party of government mean for them? What, under the premiership of weathercock Starmer, will happen to the ordinary people who know that sex matters?

Starmer is still squeamish about the definition of “woman”. Pre-election pratfalls, such as when he conceded “99.9% of women don’t have a penis”, show a man who is apparently more terrified of trans activists than of ridicule from the wider electorate.

Within a month of Starmer taking office, the new government signalled that the previous administration’s pledge to clarify that “sex” in the Equality Act means “biological sex” would be dropped. This has left service providers in limbo, unsure as to whether they are able to protect women in refuges and on hospital wards from men who demand to be treated as women.

Meanwhile, our new Prime Minister has not shied away from the easy topics; he has called for a “duty of candour” law to prevent future cover-ups like the infected blood and Post Office scandals. Yet he has remained oddly mute on the horrors which unfolded within Gender Identity Development Services for children. That confused teens who were too young to buy a party popper were given experimental drugs to halt their puberty is apparently not worthy of public condemnation.

That Duffield was one of very few “out” gender critical politicians within the Labour Party reveals a culture of fear at the heart of government. That politicians who used the pioneering women-only shortlists to get elected, not to mention self-declared”‘gobby feminist” Jess Phillips, have found themselves unwilling to stand by Duffield, sends a stronger message than words.

Ultimately, perhaps the Prime Minister is not so much a weathercock as he is meteorologically challenged. As Duffield notes, he has not bothered to canvass the opinion of experienced backbenchers, and he has misread the temperature when it comes to women’s rights. I shall leave readers to infer what this might see him labelled as in Bennite terms.


Josephine Bartosch is assistant editor at The Critic and co-author of the forthcoming book Pornocracy.

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