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This chapter analyzes the regulation of sexual desire as one aspect of the process of progressive centralization through which the papacy affirmed its control over the Catholic Church and society across the centuries. While the accusation of homosexual behavior was increasingly associated with forms of religious and social nonconformity, the prohibition of homosexual intercourse became an instrument for encouraging ecclesiastics’ and lay people’s increasing examination of their individual consciences. The control of same-sex desire thus favored the internalization of a disciplinary attitude that hierarchically emanated from the center to the periphery. As a response to the increased visibility of sexual and gender minorities, nowadays the issue of same-sex marriage is demanding increased attention. The issue has never been discussed more thoroughly by popes as it has been in the last decades. Despite some significative epistemological shifts, however, the doctrinal approach towards this matter has remained strikingly consistent, and homosexuality is still condemned by the Catholic Church as a disordered inclination.
Research on whether religiosity promotes or reduces prejudice has produced plenty of paradoxical findings. In this article, we address the relationship between religiosity and anti-diversity attitudes (xenophobia and homophobia) among Christians in Western Germany. We ask what the relationship between religiosity and anti-diversity attitudes is and how it can be explained. Two (complementary) theoretical explanations are presented: the religious-ideology explanation emphasizes the role of fundamentalism, and the loss-of-privileges explanation underscores the importance of perceived disadvantage. Our analysis is based on a representative sample of Christians in Western Germany and provides evidence of a curvilinear religiosity–prejudice relationship. Up to a certain level of religiosity, xenophobia and homophobia decrease as religiosity increases; however, the relationship then reverses—anti-diversity attitudes are particularly pronounced among the highly religious. The level of xenophobia among the highly religious is fully explained by fundamentalism and perceived disadvantage, whereas their level of homophobia is only partially explained.
The public humanities have shaped ideas about sex, race, and gender. This is a cautionary tale that points to the repeated problems of the model of public humanities as academics or elites dispensing knowledge to a public audience. King Alfred of England ordered a set of texts “most needful for all men to know” translated into English. Long celebrated in English history as an example of public education, these translations also put forward certain ideas about race and sexuality for the emerging English public, a reminder of the ideological function of the public humanities. Likewise, modern scholars worried about medieval and classical texts that depict homosexuality becoming available to the public, so they refused to translate them or altered them. As a counter to such models, I consider the seventh-century Archbishop Theodore, a Syrian-born ecclesiast who ran the English church and who provides a model of a collaborative public humanities in which lay people shape knowledge and law together. Their model of public humanities encourages us to explore the historical Black public and their contributions to medieval studies that academic medieval studies have ignored.
This chapter explores prejudice and discrimination and their effects on LGBTIQ people and communities. First, this chapter reviews research on attitudes towards LGBTIQ people, with reference to studies of homophobia, biphobia, and transphobia. With specific reference to hate crimes, it next discusses homophobic, biphobic, and transphobic victimisation. Systematic prejudice (structural prejudice embedded in social and legal institutions) is then discussed in relation to key constructs such as heterosexism, heteronormativity, and cisgenderism. The final section of the chapter focuses on minority stress and the ways in which this and other processes (e.g., internalised homophobia, decompensation) contribute to psychological distress among LGBTIQ people, including those who a multiply marginalised. The impacts of these factors on mental health in LGBTIQ populations are also discussed.
Chapter 5 explores the common stereotype that LGBTQ+ people flaunt their sexuality, or behave sexually inappropriate in ways that heterosexual and cisgender people do not. This stereotype undergirds the rationale for recent anti-LGBTQ+ bills such as Florida’s Don’t Say Gay bill and anti-transgender legislation which is part of the backlash against the progress of queer rights in the early 2000s. Various shortcuts in thinking that contribute to the reckless and false belief that queer people flaunt their sexuality are discussed. Lesbian and gay parenting and children of queer parents is discussed as well. Heterosexual privilege is examined. The empirical work on child sexual abuse is also considered. The chapter concludes with strategies to reduce heterosexism and homophobia.
As we’ve seen, bitch has been used against men for almost as long as it’s been used against women. Bitch is still thrown at men and women alike, but it’s used somewhat differently. Bitch can have positive connotations when a woman reclaims it, but when aimed at a man, bitch is rarely a compliment. While a bitch can be a strong woman, it usually means a weak man. But unlike powerful women who are hit with the word, men are targeted with bitch when they are considered to be powerless. Bitch likens a woman to a man, while it likens a man to a woman. It’s an emasculating insult that suggests he’s lacking in courage and strength. Bitch might also accuse him of being effeminate or gay. There are many different versions of the slur for a man – he’s a little bitch, someone’s bitch, a prison bitch, or he’s a son of a bitch.
This chapter explores male homoerotic desire, whether idealised, romanticised, visualised or physically enacted. Male homoerotic practices and relations have sometimes been structured around notions of difference between two males who were thought to be respectively masculine and feminine, active and passive, free and slave, or older and younger. The last pairing was particularly important in classical European antiquity where it was, typically, regarded as compatible with heterosexual marriage and reproduction. This should alert us to the fact that many societies across the globe have not viewed male homoerotic relations according to the set of sexualised identities that emerged from nineteenth century western medical science, and which have since been contested by gay liberationists and queer activists. Western imperial practice has produced an abundance of evidence concerning the legal and religious regulation of ‘sodomy’. This invites comparison with records from other cultures which have often been, in their various ways, more positive in their attitudes to same-sex desire. The chapter, therefore, includes a consideration of globally diverse patterns of male homoerotic relations that acknowledges the complexity of cultural responses to same-sex desire.
Bernstein was a larger-than-life figure on stage as conductor, composer, pianist, and media persona, and off stage, too, in his physicality, sociality, charisma, and sensuous engagement with the world. His artistic and celebrity status granted wide berth to Bernstein’s ‘bohemian’ sexual and relationship practices, but he was not exempt from contemporary social expectations and anxieties. Indeed, Bernstein’s life and career illustrate the pivotal effects of twentieth-century sociosexual norms and homophobia on US musical modernism. A gay man in a heterosexual marriage, Bernstein was both a victim and beneficiary, and a sometime agent, of homophobia. In Bernstein the forces of twentieth-century homophobia converged with talent, ambition, and repression, yielding momentous results for his family, intimates, colleagues, and rivals, and for US and international arts and culture. Bernstein’s life and career were fatefully shaped by prevailing social forms and mores, and ultimately his social and cultural influence would contribute to their reshaping.
This chapter studies the expression of queerness, gender and sexual identity, and diversity in comics and graphic novels. It identifies several stages in the history of the medium, from earlier coded or implicit representations of queer identities designed to circumvent the Comics Code Authority to increasingly and openly acknowledged visualizations of non-heteronormative subject matters in contemporary works. The chapter offers close readings of various coming-out narratives that use the graphic memoir form as a space for self-excavation and self-disclosure, drawing connections with a wider social of familial context (Howard Cruse, David Wojnarowicz, and especially Alison Bechdel, whose Fun Home catapulted queer graphic novels into the mainstream). It also contrasts the “normalization” approach of mainstream publishers, who focus on diversity and support equality by featuring queer characters in ensemble casts, albeit at the risk of presenting a superficial image of queerness, and the more exclusive focus of alternative publishers and individually produced comics-zines, more centered on personal experiences.
This study explores the evolution of individual attitudes toward homosexuality in Chile during the period 1998–2018. Based on microdata from the International Social Survey Programme, it finds evidence of a significant rise in the share of people accepting homosexual relationships, from 5.4 percent to 38.5 percent of the population. Observable individual-level socioeconomic characteristics are responsible for only 3.6 percentage points of this shift. In particular, the increase in educational attainment and generational replacement help to explain this trend and account for an increase of 2.6 percentage points (roughly 45 percent of the initial level of acceptance). Nevertheless, the bulk of this shift is due to structural changes in Chilean society, which may have increased acceptance across all the demographic subgroups considered in the analysis.
This chapter discusses the right to equality and non-discrimination as it is protected by the European Convention on Human Rights, other Council of Europe instruments, in EU law and in international instruments. Attention is paid to various non-discrimination concepts, such as indirect and direct discrimination, and to grounds of discrimination. In the final section, a short comparison between the different instruments is made.
While debates may rage around issues of sexuality, sexual identity and sexuality-based rights, if we are to believe what we hear from some of our political leaders and sections of the media, concerns over sexuality itself should be settled outside of schools. Sexuality, they would argue, is too mature, too controversial and quite simply a biological fact that has no relevance to schooling.However, disturbing stories and statistics point to the significant challenges faced by students, and these surely warrant attention.
With this in mind, this chapter examines some of the questions that often arise when talking about sexualities: Are gender and sexuality the same thing? Is sexuality ‘all about sex’?And what does school have to do with any of this? By unpacking some of the emergent literature in the field, the chapter will suggest that dominant discourses around sexualities ߝ in this case, heteronormativity ߝ are up for challenge.
Arguments about the pros and cons and possible effectiveness of face masks have occupied considerable space in specialist, medical venues such as peer-reviewed journals and science blogs as well as public forums such as mainstream media and social media – the latter attracting contributions from medical specialists and lay members of the public alike. The debate has often been heated, and there have also been reports of individuals resisting the stipulation to wear face masks in shops and on airplanes, at times leading to acts of physical violence. Drawing on the narrative paradigm, this chapter examines some of the arguments for and against face masks as articulated by a diverse range of individuals and constituencies, within and beyond the Anglophone and European world, and the justifications given in each case, as well as their underlying values and logics.
Politicized homophobia has become a dominant theme in the study of regime preservation tactics in southern Africa. However, a consensus on the potency of this tool has prevented researchers from fully exploring the conditions of its general success and occasional failure. Frossard de Saugy fills this gap with a thorough examination of the strategies of politicized homophobia deployed by the Robert Mugabe regime, their connection to hegemonic masculinity, the liberation war, and land questions, and the conditions which led them to lose their potency and ultimately fail to save Mugabe from mounting domestic challenges.
Even some entirely peaceful gay males feel so-called internalized homophobia towards gay males, including themselves. This is particularly so if their social context is anti-gay and they have not ‘come out’ publicly. For a tiny minority, feelings of shame and guilt might sometimes be assuaged by acting aggressively towards other gay males, which appears to be an example of what Freud termed ‘reaction formation’. Such combined lust-anger emotion appears to be at the basis of the killings by several men (described here), who exhibit sexual sadism. Some serial lust killers were rejected and taunted for being gay. This triggered mixed emotions towards their orientation and combined attraction and hatred towards other gays. The chapter describes several homosexual serial killers, all of whom targeted gay males or young men offering sexual services, often torturing them before killing. Most famous is John Wayne Gacy and most recently convicted is Bruce McArthur.
Nigeria remains a traditional culture, and religion is an inextricable part of society, permeating political, familial and socio-economic life. Young Nigerians are beginning to rebel against traditional roles. Empowered by the anonymity and strength in numbers that a megacity like Lagos provides, a growing feminist movement, led by young women, is seeking greater gender equality across work and family life. A small but vocal LBGTQ+ community is also emerging, particularly in the creative industries, and is using social media to speak out and challenge deeply rooted homophobic assumptions.
Nigeria remains a traditional culture, and religion is an inextricable part of society, permeating political, familial and socio-economic life. Young Nigerians are beginning to rebel against traditional roles. Empowered by the anonymity and strength in numbers that a megacity like Lagos provides, a growing feminist movement, led by young women, is seeking greater gender equality across work and family life. A small but vocal LBGTQ+ community is also emerging, particularly in the creative industries, and is using social media to speak out and challenge deeply rooted homophobic assumptions.
The first section of this Element reviews the history of LGBTQ rights in the region since the 1960s. The second section reviews explanations for the expansion of rights and setbacks, especially since the mid 2000s. Explanations are organized according to three themes: (1) the (re-)emergence of a religious cleavage; (2) the role of political institutions such as presidential leadership, political parties, federalism, courts, and transnational forces; and (3) the role of social movement strategies, and especially, unity. The last section compares the progress on LGBTQ rights (significant) with reproductive rights (insignificant). This Element concludes with an overview of the causes and possible future direction of the current backlash against LGBTQ rights.
Opposition to sexual minority rights in Poland is among the highest in the EU. Populist political actors in the country repeatedly scapegoat gays and lesbians, presenting them as a threat to the Polish nation and its shared norms and values, particularly those derived from religion. Building upon previous research which shows how discourse constructing homosexuality as a threat to the nation has been used by social and political actors to legitimize homophobic rhetoric and behaviour, our paper shows whether nationalism—understood here as national collective narcissism—predicts prejudice towards gays and lesbians at the level of individual beliefs.