Beyond The Binary
In Chapter 1 of Beyond the Binary, we are pushed to confront a deceptively simple question: what makes someone male or female? At first glance, society treats this as a settled issue, check the box marked M or F—but the reading quickly exposes this confidence as built on unstable ground. Rather than defining “male” or “female” through any one biological trait, the chapter lays out the layered, overlapping systems we use to sort human beings, and challenges us to examine the assumptions behind them.
The chapter introduces us to the concept of “orthogonal classifications” chromosomes, anatomy, hormones, and even social presentation, all used as proxies for gender identity, often inconsistently. The story of Caster Semenya, a runner with XY chromosomes and female anatomy, becomes a focal point: why does society insist on categorizing her, and what authority should any one trait be it genetic, anatomical, or hormonal hold in making that determination?
This question becomes even more complicated when we consider the contextual nature of categorization. What matters in medicine (hormonal levels or anatomy) might differ from what matters in social life (gender identity or public presentation). This reinforces a major theme from the reading: there is no universal key to decoding sex or gender. Instead, our categories are situated tools—used differently depending on what we want them to do.
The textbook drives this point home with examples from literature and philosophy, such as Cormac McCarthy’s mulefoot hogs and Borges’ fictional encyclopedia of creatures. These serve as metaphors for the absurdity and rigidity of our classification systems. A “hog” that walks like a mule challenges us in the same way an intersex child or gender-nonconforming adult does—forcing us to either expand our definitions or face the harm done by enforcing them.
A more flexible, analytical approach, like the statistical genre sorting used by platforms like Spotify, is offered as a possible model. Just as media platforms recommend films based on nuanced user behavior rather than rigid labels, perhaps our approach to sex and gender should recognize patterns without pretending they define us. As the chapter ends, it subtly encourages us to treat categories not as truths, but as tools—and always to ask: What is this category doing? Who does it serve or harm?
