The Brit Awards recently went gender-neutral as part of a growing trend in the entertainment industry to be more welcoming to those who identify as non-binary. Movie stars and media allies have led this push, denouncing separate categories as sexist. The chair and co-president of the Brit Awards said that this move was part of their efforts to be "as inclusive as possible.” But oopsie, that wound up meaning the 2023 Brit nominations heavily favored men, including no women whatsoever nominated for Artist of the Year. The whole exercise raises serious questions about whether well-intentioned progressivism, if carelessly executed, can wind up being profoundly regressive and exclusionary. What happens when we hit our target with our foot firmly placed on the bullseye?

The Brit Awards situation isn’t an isolated incident. On the other side of the pond, MTV made the switch years ago. Emma Watson graciously accepted her gender-neutral award, clad in couture but probably ineffective chain mail armor, and heralded it as a “potent call for breaking down gender.” Ironically, her award was for playing a character whose name literally means “pretty” in a plot that revolves around reforming her abusive boyfriend with the help of servants who are sad they can’t be more useful to their master. But it’s all cool because Belle reads books, which a dedicated five-minute ensemble musical piece reminds us makes her “not like the rest of us.” This is, of course, exactly the message I want my daughter to get as we teach her how to read. Equality achieved?

MTV isn’t alone. Australia followed suit, as did the Gotham Awards, among others. However, that’s not the only trend. If you’re a nerd like me, your first thought upon reading about the Brit results would be to point out that it’s essentially an anecdote. It’s one cycle of one award, and we can’t draw conclusions with a sample size of one. Except it isn’t alone. Across gender-neutral awards around the globe, men tend to hover around 70% of both nominations and wins. Now we’re getting into things that start to look like statistics.

As the president of Film Independent pointed out, “The issue is not award shows; the issue is the industry.” Indeed, you’re around twice as likely to see a man in a leading role in a top movie. For those behind the scenes, they’re four times more likely to be men. In the music business, the stats are similar, with almost 80% of top artists being male, only around 14% of songwriters being female, and women making up a paltry 3.9% of producers.

So whom are we helping by abolishing gender categories? It’s not society at large, where in the US, self-identified non-binary people make up 1% of the population. It’s also not the LGBT community broadly, among whom only 11% identify as non-binary — an identity that didn’t exist a generation ago. If you’re a lesbian, chances are you identify as a woman. If you’re a trans man, you probably identify as a man. That’s the “trans” part of transitioning — you’ve left one set of gender standards and adopted another.

If we’re being honest, most of the time, we wouldn’t have any way of telling whether a performer or a character is non-binary to begin with. It’s a little like trying to tell if someone is an atheist. Presumably, Iron Man and Moana aren’t because they converse with literal gods. For most other characters, I would refer you to this wonderful bit by Comic Book Religion, which gets into absolutely cocaine-fueled detail in standardizing the religion of fictional characters. Part of that is the fact that there simply are no widely recognized performative standards for being non-religious. There are no books, no prayers, no rituals — the only criteria is quietly being not.

Women comprise about half of society and a bit over that of the LGBT community. For women already facing an uphill battle in industries that heavily favor men, these kinds of degendering shifts can steepen the incline even further. One concern is that gender-neutral awards will lead to fewer overall awards given out, thus reducing the slots available to women. In many cases, however, new categories do get created. The bigger issue is who wins them. Winning an industry award can be a major boost to someone’s career. Failing to win one, especially when they damn well deserve it, can hasten the quiet slide into obscurity.

Coverage of changes in these awards typically winds down to citing one of a few non-binary performers who feel excluded. The Guardian settled on Sam Smith. For those who need reminding, Smith is basically a modern-day Shakespeare, who penned such not-at-all forgettable lyrics as “Guess it's true, I'm not good at a one-night stand, but I still need love cause I'm just a man.” To offer a tiny bit of feedback: if you’re going to be outspoken about your non-binary identity, don’t identify as a man in the first sentence of your most popular song.

As Smith loudly proclaimed, “I look forward to a time where awards shows can be reflective of the society we live in.” Herein lies the problem, Sam: they already fucking are. The society we live in isn’t populated by Grammy-winning millionaires who grew up studying under accomplished jazz pianists and spend their leisure time in penthouses or beachside condos meditating on identity. The real-life music ecosystem is populated by people who clock out of work at their day job and then ply their craft, people driving home at 3 a.m. from a show where they got a few free beers and maybe enough money to cover their gas. Lots of them are really good, and lots of them are women.

Studio time is expensive. When I was last in a studio, probably 15 years ago, the rate was $200 an hour — and that was for a no-name studio tucked away in the industrial district of a mid-sized city. Successful performers depend on the industry for resources, and if you’re a woman, it’s very possible you’ll be brushed aside regardless of your talent because you don’t have an ass and set of tits that could serve as a flotation device in the event of an emergency water landing.

All of this is personal to me. I don’t actually know how many instruments I play — it depends on how you count — and I have a young daughter who I hope will play at least some of them too. She’s taken to the djembe, and I’ve promised that if she practices, I’ll put a drum set in the guest bedroom. I want a future where my daughter has all the runway she needs to take flight.

We don’t get to pawn all this off on the industry. Marketing is the most brutal form of social science because the only thing they care about is results. They don’t care about what you virtue signal on social media. They know your eyeballs, clicks, and money want to see or hear a white cis male. So no, I don’t look forward to awards that reflect our society; I look forward to a society that reflects our values. I would defer to the words of Reverend William Watkinson from more than a century ago:

“Evil is not overcome by denunciation. It is surprising how much efficacy is supposed to go with denunciation. Real, constructive, aggressive good is of far greater significance than eloquent invective; such invective has its place, but it must be accompanied by active practical effort […] Denunciatory rhetoric is so much easier and cheaper than good works, and proves a popular temptation. Yet it is far better to light the candle than to curse the darkness.”

So take a second, grab a cup of tea, and contemplate the difference between “good” and aggressive good. Gendered awards aren’t a cause; they’re a symptom. Sacrificing half the population on the altar of inclusivity isn’t being inclusive at all; it only makes matters worse by denying recognition and harming careers. What truly needs fixing are the barriers that make it so much harder for women of all types to succeed in the entertainment industry in the first place.

We like to feel good about celebrating our Beyonces, Adeles, and Florence and the Machines, but within that is a tacit endorsement that they are the exception, like the person who finishes the race with prosthetic legs. Good on them. They overcame what we all recognize as adversity because of who they are. But when the films we watch and the music we listen to tell the entertainment business what we really want, the exclusion and sexism don’t start with the industry or the awards — it starts with all of us.

Published Mar 10, 2023
Updated Mar 12, 2023