Readers may be unaware that I have a new book out this week (which readers might purchase from Amazon or anywhere else where books are found). The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity came out on Tuesday with a big bash at The Spectator’s offices in London.
But the thing I was hoping for most – the thing that has made me happiest about the reception of the book – is neither the plaudits of the friendly nor the congratulations of the wise. The thing that I anticipated most eagerly were the attacks on me from what remains of ‘the gay press’.
True, I have not been kind to them in my book. The gay press had a purpose in the 1970s and ‘80s. It even had a purpose in the 1990s. But in the current decade what remains of it is a pointless, shrivelled husk. A demonstration of that unerring law about charities: which is that if a charity is set up to deal with a disease it will continue to operate even if that disease is cured. Because people’s jobs and pension packages are at stake. Many of those involved will have no other competency, and nothing else to do.
In the same way the gay press has staggered on, mainly online, long after it should have shut up shop. It ekes out an existence, with hardly any readers, paying its contributors nothing or almost nothing, trying to whip up the gays over niche issues of trans rights, and maintaining a skeleton staff paid in launch bash canapés and free items sent to them for review. Naturally they have become organs of the identity-politics movements: ridiculous, ill-thinking, ‘intersectional’ publications which, because the gay rights battle is basically won, try to whip their readers up into a rage about political issues that have nothing to do with gays.