Rethinking Gender Identity: Bridging Feminism and Cognitive Science

Much of what we now call "gender identity" has strayed from its original psychological and clinical roots. The popular notion—that gender is something one possesses, chosen from an ever-expanding menu of identities like "cake gender"—has little basis in scientific understanding. Let's be honest: this conceptualization is unmoored from evidence and rife with confusion.

The term gender identity was, in fact, poorly named. It originated in the context of clinical research on individuals with Disorders of Sex Development (DSDs)—those born with atypical sex characteristics or genetic differences. In some cases, such individuals were raised as the opposite sex, as with those who have Complete Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (CAIS), a condition in which genetically male individuals (XY) cannot respond to androgens like testosterone and thus develop a female phenotype. These rare, medically complex cases gave psychologists an opportunity to study how people come to understand which sex they are. This internal self-awareness was termed “gender identity,” with gender then used as a rough synonym for sex.

While the treatment of individuals with DSDs by clinicians and researchers has often been ethically fraught, the studies nonetheless yielded valuable insights into the cognitive processes involved in self-categorization as male or female. Psychoanalyst Robert Stoller identified three key factors that shape a person's sense of their sex:

1. One's body – primary and secondary sex characteristics

2. Social environment – messages received about what being male or female means

3. Biological variation – such as DSDs, which may lead to atypical development

   
   

Disruptions in accurately perceiving or adapting to one’s own sex can result from complications in any of these three areas. Today, this kind of disruption might be classified as early-onset gender dysphoria, which is often associated with childhood gender nonconformity and, in rare cases, biological atypicalities.

Second-wave and radical feminists developed an understanding of "gender" that maps closely onto Stoller's model. From this perspective, gender is not something innate or personal; it is imposed through cultural norms, roles, and stereotypes associated with one's sex. Stoller’s second factor—social messaging—is key here: how a society interprets and enforces meanings around sex directly influences an individual’s perception of themselves.

Radical feminism views gender as a mechanism of power that serves the interests of a patriarchal system, structured around heterosexual norms—especially male dominance. Lesbian feminists like Monique Wittig pushed this critique further. Wittig famously argued that "lesbians aren’t women," not because lesbians aren’t female, but because “woman” is not just a biological category—it’s a social role constructed around heterosexuality. Lesbians, not oriented toward men, fall outside the traditional framework of what “woman” is expected to mean. Wittig saw this as a kind of liberation: a freedom from gender as a system of oppression.

Yet this raises a deeper issue: what does it mean to exist outside of any cultural framework of meaning about sex? Stoller’s model, combined with feminist theory, offers a compelling view of early-onset gender dysphoria as a profound disruption in a fundamental cognitive process—how one categorizes their own sex. For some individuals—whether due to biological atypicalities or gender nonconformity, particularly in same-sex attracted youth—this disruption may be exacerbated by rigid, binary cultural norms about what it means to be male or female.

The radical feminist project—dismantling gender roles and stereotypes—aims to make room for the full range of expression within each sex. In doing so, it could plausibly reduce the incidence of gender identity disruption. If children were raised in an environment where gender expectations were not so tightly coupled to sex, the cognitive conflict at the heart of gender dysphoria might never fully develop. While this may not “cure” a fully consolidated gender identity once formed, early intervention in the form of feminist education and broader cultural change could be preventive. Girls, especially, need to be reached with radical feminist ideas early on.

There is potential for meaningful common ground between radical feminists and those experiencing gender identity issues. Both can acknowledge:

1. That gender-based stereotypes are harmful, especially for homosexuals and individuals with DSDs, and that they can contribute to real psychological distress and cognitive dissonance.

2. That eliminating rigid gender roles could prevent or ease that distress—possibly without the need for lifelong medical interventions.

   
   

Feminists can acknowledge that gender dysphoria is a real and persistent phenomenon, especially in a world where gender roles are still strongly enforced. Trans-identified individuals, in turn, might consider that a more equitable, flexible society—one that celebrates sex-based diversity without enforcing gender conformity—could offer relief without pathologizing their identities.

We live in a world where gender exists. But we can imagine—and work toward—a world where it doesn’t need to. In that future, feminists and trans-identified people alike might find liberation not in transition, but in transformation—of society itself.

And that’s a future worth shaking hands over.