critical
80 contexts.org
intersex and the social construction of sex by georgiann davis and sharon preves
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Contexts, Vol. 16, No. 1, p. 80. ISSN 1536-5042, electronic ISSN 1537-60521. © 2017 American Sociological Association. http://contexts.sagepub.com. DOI 10.1177/1536504217696082.
“What is it?” It’s the first question most new parents field, and
it’s safe to assume no one wonders if the child is human. Instead,
the question usually refers to the child’s sex, and it reveals the
fundamental social importance of anatomical sex. Its bluntness
also indicates that, without a neatly assigned sex, a child might
not fully be a person. Granted a physical sex label—female or
male—the newborn is immediately and forever “gendered”
through social interactions. Sociocultural scholars have explored
the social construction of gender as a performative, fluid, and
non-universal category for decades, but the notion that physical
sex is also socially constructed has acquired far less exploration.
Some babies are born intersex. Their bodies aren’t clearly
female or male. While there is no reliable estimate of intersex
people in the population, a commonly reported statistic is that
intersex genital variation occurs about once in every 1,500 to
2,000 American births.
While we tend to rely on genital appearance at birth (more
directly, the presence or absence of a phallus) as the basis of
our sex assignment, what constitutes the essential sign of sex
has varied over the years. Genital appearance, sex hormones,
sex chromosomes, and the brain have each been used to sex
categorize bodies at different points in time. Sex hasn’t always
been a simple binary divide, either: pathologist Theodore Klebs,
for instance, first classified anatomical sex into five categories
in 1876, using the presence of gonads (ovaries, testes, or a mix
of ovarian and testicular tissue) as his guide, and biologist and
gender scholar Anne Fausto-Sterling further described these divi-
sions in her influential 1993 piece, “The Five Sexes.”
More recently, hormonal levels have been used to categorize
sex, as is the case in sex testing conducted by the International
Olympic Committee (IOC) and the International Association
of Athletics Federations (IAAF). In 2009, South African runner
Caster Semenya won the 800-meter race at the Berlin World
Championships in Athletics. The media and several of Seme-
nya’s competitors seized on her appearance and performance
to pose stigmatizing questions about whether she was eligible
to compete as a female. Semenya was temporarily banned from
competition. In a purported effort to prevent another such fiasco,
in 2012, the IOC and IAAF issued sex-testing policies centered
on hyperandrogenism (a medical term describing ,in females,
higher than “normal” levels of androgen, including testosterone,
and often associated with intersex traits). The groups claimed
the guidelines were not about sex testing women athletes, but
about ensuring fairness in elite athletic competitions. After years
of scrutiny, Semenya (who has never self-identified as hyperan-
drogenic or intersex) was reinstated. She won silver at the 2012
Olympic Games. In the summer of 2015, the sex-testing policies
were suspended after Dutee Chand, an Indian 100-meter sprinter,
successfully appealed to the Court of Arbitration for Sport. Chand
didn’t advance to the semi-finals in the 2016 Olympic Games, but
Semenya won gold in the 800-meter race. Immediately following
her win, the IAAF made a statement that they would consider
the possibility of reinstating hyperadrogenism testing.
That one’s eligibility to compete as a female athlete is debat-
able and that the physical criteria used to judge femaleness have
changed over time are evidence that the categorization of sex is
a social, variable process.
Sex is far more diverse than we acknowledge when we ask
whether a baby is male or female. It cannot be neatly defined by
our genitalia, hormone levels, reproductive structures, or brain
structure. And as people with intersex traits make exceptionally
clear, even chromosomes are a poor guide. People with complete
androgen insensitivity syndrome, for instance, have XY chromo-
somes (typically associated with males) but an outward female
appearance, including breasts and a vagina and minimal, if any,
ability to develop male secondary sex characteristics, such as
prominent facial hair.
Perhaps, then, we ought to ask parents “Who is it?” rather
than “What is it?” when we meet a child. That way, the focus
might rest more holistically on the newborn as a human being,
rather than the predetermined product of a historically variable
and socially constructed sex and gender system. Maybe then we
can get to the root of why, as a society, we are so quick to cat-
egorize babies as “females” or “males” ascribed with “feminine”
or “masculine” personalities. Doing so would require wrestling
with, and perhaps unraveling, our widely held beliefs that both
sex and gender are binary, neatly correlated phenomena. Simply
changing the focus of the conversation seems a good place to
start acknowledging the diversity of sex development.
Georgiann Davis is in the sociology department at the University of Nevada, Las
Vegas. She is the author of Contesting Intersex: The Dubious Diagnosis. Sharon
Preves is in the sociology department at Hamline University. She is the author of
Intersex and Identity: the Contested Self.