On the outside looking in
The “objective outsider” approach to research can do real harm. What’s the alternative?
You may recall this NYT op-ed packed with anti-trans talking points, published a few days before nonbinary high schooler Nex Benedict was bullied in the bathroom and died by suicide. In the op-ed, the writer links to published studies in the scientific literature to imply that there is solid scientific evidence for so-called “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria.”
Despite the fact that research on Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria has been thoroughly discredited, corrected, retracted, and resolutely rejected by psychological societies representing the scientific consensus, writers like this one continue to use it to give the veneer of scientific plausibility to anti-trans claims, twisting the facts (a handful of shoddy studies meets an avalanche of warranted criticism) to imply that a few lone researchers are the only voices of reason in an overly woke scientific climate of avid truth suppression. (As someone who spends her days in said scientific climate and who has published papers on the biases that exist in the scientific peer review system, I can assure you that rumors of academia’s wokeness have been greatly exaggerated.)
The term “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria” sounds like a thing, because it has a name, but it was actually just made up by some bloggers on sites with a history of disseminating anti-trans propaganda, and then painted with a quick top-coat of scientific-sounding plausibility by a researcher named Lisa Littman. The idea seemed to originate as a way to describe and explain the experiences and observations of some cis parents of trans kids (a focus that we’ll come back to later), who were surprised by their kid coming out as transgender (so felt it was “sudden”) and who noticed that their kid interacted with other trans people and/or trans-themed social media. “Rapid Onset Gender Dysphoria” described a particular parental perspective that these kids were suddenly experiencing gender dysphoria due to social contagion.
Insiders, Outsiders, and the Myth of Objectivity
In Littman’s since thoroughly debunked work, she surveyed parents recruited from online communities frequented by trans-skeptical parents. That’s a great approach if you’re seeking to understand the psychology of trans-skeptical parents (e.g., asking important psychological questions like: How do parents’ own colonial beliefs about binary gender limit their ability to support their kids? How does the motivation to deny the reality of a child’s gender bias parents’ thinking about cause and effect?). But it’s obviously a terrible approach if you’re seeking to understand the psychology of trans kids.
As an outsider to the community she wished to study, Littman (a) asked a research question grounded in her own outsider perspective (e.g., “Can social contagion explain why there are so many trans people these days?”), (b) sought out a highly biased sample of other outsiders to provide data for the purpose of answering that question (parents in trans-skeptical online communities), and then (c) drew inferences from the data based on that outsider perspective (e.g., a cluster of trans kids provides evidence for social contagion, rather than the simpler and already scientifically established explanation that people tend to seek out others who share similar identities and experiences).
This tendency to assume that researchers can and even should be “outsiders” to the community and questions they hope to study is actually pretty common in science. Littman took it to particularly shoddy and harmful extremes and blended it with plenty of other problems, but her approach was grounded in a scientific culture steeped in the colonial history of mainstream scientific institutions (and U.S., Canadian, and Western European societies more broadly). This culture assumes that good science comes from researchers (historically wealthy, white, cis men) asking questions that they personally think are important and interesting, extracting information from communities to answer those questions, and then using the resulting knowledge to further their own goals. It imagines that the resulting research findings and conclusions are “objective” (a notion that can be traced to propaganda that the U.S. government put out during the Cold War) and should be trusted over community members’ own lived experiences and expertise.
Who are We Prioritizing?
Every aspect of the scientific enterprise is set up to prioritize researchers’ goals and interests over the goals and interests of community members. Even Institutional Review Boards (IRBs), groups mandated by the US government to ensure “appropriate steps are taken to protect the rights and welfare of humans participating as subjects in the research,” often assume that it’s ethical to extract information from communities without sharing it back or considering community members’ own priorities, interpretations, or concerns. In fact, when we recently tried to get IRB approval to decide collaboratively with participants over the course of a study whether and how to share the data from the study, the IRB pushed back, explaining that if participants consented to the possibility of data sharing at the beginning of the study, we shouldn’t ask them again. From the IRB’s perspective, researchers are only obligated to obtain a participant’s signature on a consent form before beginning a study or (depending on the study) hand them an information sheet. Once the participant agrees to participate and provides any data, they lose any voice in how the information is interpreted or shared. It belongs to the researcher. K thx bye.
I guess what I’m saying is, Littman wasn’t operating in a vacuum. She was operating within a culture, institutions, and systems that many of us scientists are participating in and contributing to. And the unquestioned prioritization of researcher over participant, this laundering of subjective outsider perceptions into Scientific Truth—these often unquestioned aspects of our systems and culture result in real harm to real people.
What’s the Alternative?
There are many other ways to do science, developed and practiced around the world. Participatory Action Research (PAR) describes an alternative approach to science that centers the needs, goals, and expertise of community members at every stage of the research process. PAR projects often involve:
A Community-Centric Approach: Instead of getting passively studied as data points, marginalized and targeted people with lived experience determine how research moves forward.
Active Participation: Community members are not subjects to be examined; they’re co-creators determining the research goals, questions, and methods.
Reclaiming Power: PAR empowers individuals to challenge systemic norms, amplifying voices misrepresented in colonial power structures.
Tangible Impact: Instead of institutions consuming marginalized people’s stories and extracting labor to empower unjust systems, community members decide how (and with whom) to share research findings.
Especially as a researcher trained in mainstream psychological methods and practices, taking the first steps into a new participatory action research project can be full of unexpected questions and challenges to navigate. That’s one of at least 73 reasons why I’m partnering with parent activist and expert community collaborator Ashia Ray from Raising Luminaries, who is not steeped in all the assumptions of academia and asks brilliant questions like “how will we share what we learn along the way?” This blog will serve as one answer to that question–some notes from the field for other researchers who might be curious about the questions and ideas we grapple with as our PAR journey unfolds.