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Building on David Halperin’s view of queer as opposition to societal norms, Judith Butler and Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick expanded queer theory into a deeper critique of how culture constructs identity. Both scholars dismantled binary thinking—male/female, heterosexual/homosexual—and recast queer as a method of disruption rather than a label of identity. Their work helps explain why queer today functions as both a tool of liberation and a source of confusion in activism.
Judith Butler: Gender as Performance
In Gender Trouble (1990), Butler argues that gender is performative, not an inner truth but a social act repeated until it feels natural. She writes:
“Gender is an identity tenuously constituted in time, instituted in an exterior space through a stylized repetition of acts.”
In simple terms, gender isn’t something we are; it’s something we do—a performance shaped by cultural expectations. Butler points to drag as the clearest example:
“In imitating gender, drag implicitly reveals the imitative structure of gender itself—as well as its contingency.”
By showing how gender can be exaggerated and parodied, drag exposes its artificial construction. The idea that “drag is life and life is drag” captures Butler’s insight: our daily behaviors—clothing, speech, posture—continually recreate gender norms.
To “queer” gender, then, means to expose and subvert these routines. This view empowered movements challenging rigid gender roles, though it has also been misapplied in activism to deny the material reality of biological sex, leading to conceptual confusion between gender and sex.
Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick: The Open Mesh of Meaning
In Epistemology of the Closet (1990), Sedgwick broadened queer into a conceptual space where meanings overlap and resist closure. She writes:
“That’s one of the things that ‘queer’ can refer to: the open mesh of possibilities, gaps, overlaps, dissonances and resonances, lapses and excesses of meaning when the constituent elements of anyone’s gender, of anyone’s sexuality aren’t made (or can’t be made) to signify monolithically.”
For Sedgwick, queer describes a fluid network of meanings—a refusal to let identity solidify into fixed categories. This “open mesh” fosters inclusivity and complexity, inviting individuals to exist beyond rigid classifications. Yet, when applied too broadly, it risks erasing distinctions among groups and experiences, turning inclusivity into abstraction.
Queer as Liberation—and Its Limits
Butler and Sedgwick turned queer from a noun into a verb—something one does to challenge norms. Their theories helped dismantle oppressive binaries and opened new space for expression. But when translated into activism, queer sometimes loses its analytical precision. By denying all boundaries, it can undermine the very identities and realities it once sought to liberate.
In essence, queer remains a double-edged concept:
- It liberates by revealing the instability of identity.
- It destabilizes by dissolving the shared meanings that make political organization possible.
Understanding both sides of that tension is key to engaging queer theory honestly—and to applying it responsibly in public discourse.
Key Takeaways
- 1. Butler’s “performative gender” means gender is produced through repeated social acts, not innate essence.
- 2. Sedgwick’s “open mesh” describes queer as fluid meaning that defies fixed categories.
- 3. Both see queer as a method of critique—liberating but unstable when detached from material or social realities.
References
Butler, Judith. Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. Routledge, 1990.
Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky. Epistemology of the Closet. University of California Press, 1990
What does “queer” actually mean? Far from a simple label for sexual minorities, queer theory defines itself in opposition to normality. Drawing on David Halperin’s Saint Foucault, this piece explains how queer became a philosophical stance of resistance—an “identity without an essence.”
The word queer has traveled a long road—from an insult meaning “strange” or “abnormal” to a proud rallying cry and the foundation of an entire intellectual movement: queer theory. At its core, the term doesn’t just describe sexual minorities; it represents a philosophical rebellion against everything considered “normal.”
One of the most influential queer theorists, David M. Halperin, explains this in his 1995 book Saint Foucault: Towards a Gay Hagiography. For Halperin, queer is not a stable identity but a position of resistance.
“Queer identity need not be grounded in any positive truth or in any stable reality. As the very word implies, ‘queer’ does not name some natural kind or refer to some determinate object; it acquires its meaning from its oppositional relation to the norm. Queer is by definition whatever is at odds with the normal, the legitimate, the dominant… It is an identity without an essence.”
(Halperin, 1995, p. 62)
In plain language, queer is not like gay or lesbian, which refer to specific sexual orientations. Queer means whatever challenges or defies the normal order. It’s an umbrella term for standing against social expectations—whether those expectations involve heterosexual marriage, gender roles, family structure, or even conventional ideas of decency or success.
Halperin calls it “an identity without an essence.” That means being queer isn’t about belonging to a group with shared traits; it’s about rejecting the very idea of fixed identity. If society defines what’s “normal,” queer theory defines itself by refusing that definition. It is a form of perpetual opposition.
He even jokes that queer could include “some married couples without children, or even (who knows?) some married couples with children—with, perhaps, very naughty children.” His point is that queer has no natural limits. Anything that unsettles the norms of family, sexuality, or respectability can count as queer.
Queer as Permanent Rebellion
In this sense, queer is not just a sexual category—it’s a political and philosophical stance. It seeks to expose and subvert the power structures that make certain ways of living “normal” and others “deviant.”
To be queer, in Halperin’s sense, is to stand in intentional opposition to society’s standards of legitimacy, authority, and order. That’s why queer theorists often speak of “queering” institutions—education, law, art, religion—meaning to challenge or destabilize their traditional foundations.
This also means that queer can never be fully accepted into normal society without losing its essence. The moment it becomes “normal,” it ceases to be queer. Its identity depends on remaining at odds with whatever is considered conventional, natural, or moral.
What This Reveals
For ordinary readers trying to make sense of today’s cultural debates, this definition clarifies something crucial: “queer” doesn’t simply describe non-heterosexual people. It’s a theoretical commitment to resisting normativity itself.
Where older gay rights movements sought inclusion—the right to marry, raise families, and participate equally in civic life—queer theory often seeks subversion: to question whether those norms should exist at all. It replaces the pursuit of equality with the pursuit of deconstruction.
In short, queer stands in opposition to what most people call normal life—not necessarily out of hatred for it, but out of a conviction that “normality” itself is a social construct that limits freedom. Understanding that distinction helps explain why many ordinary people feel confused or alienated by “queer” politics today: it is not asking to join society, but to transform or even overturn its organizing principles.
Key Takeaways: What “Queer” Actually Means
- 1. Queer is not an identity, it’s opposition.
“Queer” doesn’t describe who someone is but how they stand—against whatever society considers normal, moral, or legitimate. - 2. Queer has no fixed boundaries.
Anything that defies traditional norms—about sex, family, gender, or behavior—can be called queer. It’s a fluid, open-ended stance of resistance. - 3. Queer exists only in contrast to the normal.
The concept depends on rejecting normality itself. The moment “queer” becomes accepted or mainstream, it loses its defining feature—its rebellion.
Reference
Halperin, David M. Saint Foucault: Towards a Gay Hagiography. Oxford University Press, 1995, p.
This except from the essay “Intimidation Masquerading as Virtue is Chilling Free Speech” by Chanel Pfahl
Brief overview of CRT
In the simplest of terms, CRT is a particular way of looking at race relations in society. The term was originally coined by legal scholar Kimberlé Crenshaw, in the 1980s, and its goal was to examine the ways in which racism continued to present itself in America despite the advances that were made during the civil rights movement.
Though slavery in the United States was officially abolished in 1865, Jim Crow laws (enforcing racial segregation), and other discriminatory practices, such as prohibiting black people from living in certain neighbourhoods, remained for nearly another century. The US, and Canada, to a lesser extent, have a history of racism that cannot be denied, and exploring the ways this history might have lingering effects on people of colour today is therefore a noble endeavour.
CRT does this in a flawed, counterintuitive way, however. It rejects the “common humanity” approach to achieving social justice – the very approach that has allowed us to overcome racist attitudes and race-based discrimination in the West to the degree that we have. Further, it is explicitly opposed to liberal principles like individual rights and civil liberties. Derrick Bell, the first African American tenured law professor at Harvard, and one of the founders of CRT, stated in his 1987 book that “progress in American race relations is largely a mirage obscuring the fact that whites continue, consciously or unconsciously, to do all in their power to ensure their dominion and maintain their control”. Indeed, for CRT supporters, racism is viewed as the ordinary, permanent state of affairs in our society.
This cynical view is shared by contemporary CRT advocates like author Robin DiAngelo. In her book White Fragility, which sat on the New York Times Best Seller list for a year in 2020, she claims that “anti-blackness is foundational to our very identities as white people” (p.91) and says “to be less white is to be less racially oppressive” (p. 149). She even argues, in this paper, that “raising white children to be white is a form of child abuse”. Beyond revealing her own racist attitudes, which she also projects onto every other white person, DiAngelo’s “insights” are not overly illuminating. Are Canadian taxpayers aware that they have been paying for her to share her views at “antiracist” events, like this one just last month?
According to CRT, racial identity is of primary importance when it comes to determining one’s position in society. Rather than saying “you are black, I am white, but most importantly, we are both human beings, and we should therefore be treated equally”, it says “you are black, I am white, and as such you are an oppressed victim, and I am a privileged oppressor; your experience of the world is completely different from mine, and the way to bring about positive change is to draw attention to the ways in which we are different”.
Indeed, based on the CRT framework, treating everyone the same regardless of skin colour (i.e., “colourblindness”) is actually a form of covert racism, as this approach does not “centre” racial identity. This is directly opposed to the unifying message of Martin Luther King, who famously stated his dream for his four children to see the day when people would be judged not by the colour of their skin, but by the content of their character.
In fact, even racial segregation is being brought back into fashion by proponents of CRT. They say it is for the “safety” of people of colour — a space to be free from white people, or from “whiteness”, as they like to call it. Have a look at this Chicago church that decided that they were “fasting from whiteness” for Lent this year… and proudly advertised it on their front lawn!
Language games breed self-censorship
With many elements of postmodern thought baked into the theory, CRT is more concerned with “dismantling” abstract “systems of power” through “deconstructing” language than it is with actually finding material solutions to real-world problems using evidence-based analysis. This manifests, notably, as an obsessive focus on what words we should and shouldn’t use (if we are to avoid “harm” and “microaggression” accusations, or worse).
How does knowing the current “accepted” term, say between “racial minority”, “coloured people”, “racialized people”, “Black”, “BIPOC”, and “people of colour” translate to any change for this particular group of individuals? It doesn’t.
But when it becomes such a grave, racist offence to use the “wrong” words, most people would rather not mess it up. This hyperfocus on language, which does not present any real world benefit for black people, simply keeps us guessing, and stops us from saying what it is we think. It is chilling free speech.
At the same time, this insistence on politically correct terminology provides incentives for certain ambitious types to master these language games and become self-appointed members of the thought police. Generally, it is white, university educated, middle and upper class women, who have discovered that between being accused of using the wrong words — i.e., “perpetuating white supremacy” — and accusing others of using the wrong words, while benefiting from a sense of moral superiority, the latter is preferable.
It isn’t clear whether they ever stop to wonder “who is this helping, anyway?” — they simply stay up to date on the latest woke beliefs, and enforce them onto others, ruthlessly at times, while claiming to be the compassionate and inclusive ones. They probably actually believe it.
These ideologues are encouraged not only by the innocuous sounding language that covers up this divisive ideology – like “equity”, “anti-racism”, “inclusion”, etc. – but also by the complex-sounding explanations below the surface. Of course, the underlying ideas are deceptively shallow and straightforward, but being able to virtue signal by using words like “hegemony” or “intersectionality” and cite academic papers (ignoring the fact that rigour is severely lacking in these fields) is addictive for some.
Escaping the burden of proof
“Anti-racist” or “CRT” activists claim that racism permeates our society at every level in a subconscious and/or systemic way. This is tremendously useful for anyone who champions the ideology, as it allows for an easy way out of having to show evidence for their claims. After all, the alleged racism is hidden, so how are they supposed to prove its existence? Why should they be expected to? (And also, you must be racist if you think proof is required.)
If you are brave enough to ask them to substantiate their beliefs, or voice genuine disagreement, many will immediately disengage, label you or accuse you of “harm” for your truth-seeking ways.
Definitional clarity is usually hard to come by with the social justice crowd. Thankfully others have taken up the mantle and done the work necessary to add form to the formless.
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Mystro
The Arbourist
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