The DNC called Stephen Miller ugly. Good.

By Dr Helen WebberleyResponding to Advocate.com15 June 20264 min read

When Stephen Miller falsely claimed Senate candidate James Talarico was transgender as a political attack, the DNC called it ugly and did not flinch. That is not a bold political strategy. It is the bare minimum, and it is worth marking precisely because it has been so rare.

The DNC called Stephen Miller ugly. Good.

Photo by Olek Buzunov on Unsplash

When Stephen Miller falsely claimed Senate candidate James Talarico was transgender as a political attack, the DNC called it ugly and did not flinch. That is not a bold political strategy. It is the bare minimum, and it is worth marking precisely because it has been so rare.

What actually happened

The DNC had been promoting James Talarico online. Stephen Miller, the White House Deputy Chief of Staff for Policy, responded by falsely claiming Talarico was transgender. Not as a neutral observation. As an attack. The implication was exactly what you think it was: that being trans is something to be ashamed of, something disqualifying, something that should follow a person like a shadow and make voters recoil.

The DNC's response did not hedge. They called it ugly, and they were right.

Using "transgender" as a weapon

This is the thing I want to name directly, because it tends to get buried in the political back-and-forth. Miller did not spread a rumour because he thought it was true. He spread it because he thought it would work. He thought that attaching the word "transgender" to a Senate candidate would damage that candidate in the eyes of voters. That is the whole mechanism. The smear only functions if being trans is understood as a defect.

Trans people watching this understood it immediately. Many of them have spent years listening to the same logic deployed against them personally: in schools, in workplaces, in families, in the language of legislation. The idea that your existence is the insult, that who you are can be weaponised against someone simply by association, is not abstract political theatre for the people it targets. It is exhausting and it is cruel, and Miller deployed it casually, from a position of significant power, on behalf of an administration that has been doing exactly this at scale.

What it costs to stay loyal

I have been watching a pattern for months now, and I suspect many of you have too. Politicians who had previously expressed support for trans people have gone quiet. Some have retreated entirely. The calculation, when it is articulated at all, tends to sound like pragmatism: trans issues are politically costly, the backlash is fierce, the polling is complicated, and there are other battles to fight.

I understand the political logic. I do not accept it.

When politicians retreat from trans people to protect their own position, they are not making a neutral strategic choice. They are making a choice about whose dignity is expendable. Trans people notice. They always notice. And the cost of that noticing accumulates: in trust withdrawn, in community energy redirected elsewhere, in the particular weariness that comes from watching people who said they were with you quietly step back when it got hard.

The DNC did not step back this week. That deserves to be said plainly, without ironising it into the ground. Yes, it is a low bar. Yes, one sharp retort to a Miller post does not constitute a comprehensive defence of trans rights. But in a political environment where "transgender" is being used as a slur by the Deputy Chief of Staff at the White House, pushing back clearly and publicly is a choice, not a reflex, and it is the right one.

What it costs trans people when support disappears

People tell me, again and again, that the hardest part is not the overt hostility. The hardest part is the people who were supposed to be allies going silent. The friend who stops speaking up at work. The politician who used to be vocal and suddenly cannot find the words. The party that hedges when it used to be clear.

Silence in the face of this kind of attack is not neutrality. It is a message, and trans people read it accurately. It says: your safety is a political liability we cannot afford right now. It says: we will come back for you when it is easier. It says: we are sorry, but.

There is no version of "we are sorry, but" that does not do real damage to real people.

The DNC got this one right

I am not in the business of giving political parties gold stars for meeting a basic standard of human decency. But I am in the business of noticing when something shifts, however slightly, in the right direction. The DNC saw a powerful man use transgender identity as a smear, and they called it what it is. Ugly. Not complicated. Not a matter of competing perspectives. Ugly.

That is the correct response. I hope it is a habit they are building rather than a moment they stumbled into. Trans people deserve politicians who can say that being trans is not an insult, clearly and without hesitation, every time someone tries to make it one. Not because it is good politics. Because it is true.

If there is a news story you would like me to cover then just let Sammy know.

Dr Helen Webberley is a gender specialist, medical educator, and advocate, and the founder of GenderGP. She writes about gender diversity, trans healthcare, and the lives of trans people and their families.

In response toStephen Miller made an anti-trans post about James Talarico. The DNC response hit its markAdvocate.com

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